Monday, March 21, 2011
From Adam
We grew attached to many of the students at the school. When I wasn't tutoring I drew many pictures for the students there, a few students even drew some back. This picture was made for me by a third grader named Amy.
From Andy W.
I had a different experience at the boarding school than the others in our group. While many of them were working with younger children who stayed with them the whole day, I was working with the older grades (6-8), who had 6 periods and rotated between classes. I was working with Mr. Q, a music teacher from the Hopi nation. Right off the bat I noticed a huge difference in the music curriculum in Tuba City and in Arlington. In Arlington we were analyzing folk songs and learning about Beethoven and other classical masterminds while in Tuba City the students were learning how to play guitar. I thought that this was great because they were having fun and actually learning how to play a useful musical instrument. Learning to play an instrument is great because you can use it to connect to other people from serenading a group to jamming with fellow musicians who may not even speak your language. Mr. Q told the class that you can communicate using the language of music. I really enjoyed my time in the class because I got to demonstrate what a saxophone sounded like. I was able to improvise for them and show them what they could accomplish if they pursued music. Mr. Q had high energy and handled his classes well. He taught each of them slightly differently based on their difficulties, and was able to incorporate me into his lessons which was a blast. It was a win-win situation because i got to play my sax, and they got exposed to Jazz, a form of music that they probably hadn't heard much of.
From Erik W
Our week with the Navajo people was an incredible experience for me, one of the highlights of my life so far.
There was this one kid I will always remember at the Tuba City Boarding School. His name was Justin, and he had been somewhat put down by the teacher. He hadn’t been putting much effort into the class, it seemed, because he would always get the answer wrong. I sat down with him, and explained, as best as I could, the concepts which she had neglected to get him to understand - interpreting the data, (fun fun fun), but the thing which got to him was that I was spending the time on him. That day, and after, he resumed his work with a slight bit more vigor, eventually volunteering to answer questions in our class’s jeopardy game.
There was a wonderful man we met named James Bilagody (a Navajo storyteller who came to tell us many things about the Navajo). He said that he was a migrant worker as a child. He saw some of the misery and oppression that society could offer. But sometimes, a group of kids like us would come and talk to him, and he said that this, the kindness and humanity shown him by these kids, greatly changed his life. I hope we have had this kind of effect on the kids we worked with.
James Bilagody’s stories made me think of the beautiful world around us, and it seemed to me that there were some stories about the Navajo people in the land itself.
The harsh, almost alien landscape, made every turn in the road a new sight. But it’s not just the odd beauty of looking out into the eternal openness that moved me; it is the things that seem to spring out of nothing, It’s the blot of cloud on the canvas sky that gives it life. The saguaros grew from strong, tree-like trunks, sprouting tumorous growths at odd angles. The tumbleweeds bit desperately at everything they came in contact with, using their nasty little thorns that got stuck everywhere. The sagebrush throughout the area was clearly undernourished. And everything weaker was killed by the freezing snows that came in like a horde from the mountains.
Yet the sage and the saguaro survive. Somehow, they find the strength to pull through both the freezing cold and intense heat , dust and clay, and lack of water. Just think what they could do with a little less hostile environment and a little more water.
As I thought about this, it seemed that the Navajo are, in a way, like the sagebrush– hardy and tough and surviving and beautiful, but struggling to thrive with quite a bit of adversity. Sagebrush can reach with its roots to enough water to survive, but struggles hard in order to grow. Weeds, invasive species, heat and cold choke out the sagebrush’s efforts to reach water and sunlight, keeping it from growing bigger. Like the sagebrush, the Navajo have learned to pull through even the toughest of times. They endured a near extinction, took back their land, became the largest tribe in our country, and are developing into the modern age. But they, like the sagebrush, are struggling with adversities that include poverty, diabetes and alcoholism, and loss of their young people to easier living off the reservation…
During our time with the Navajo people at Tuba City, we had the opportunity to see their incredible strength and learn about their endurance and love for their land and culture.
If the Navajo are like the sagebrush, I hope that we were perhaps like a thin reed, added to the end of the Navajo roots, pulling up a bit more nourishment for them, like water for the sagebrush. By doing so, the reed also becomes nourished.
We have taken draughts of knowledge about their culture, experience, and friendship, and we are better for it. We hope we added a bit of enrichment to the lives of the individuals we encountered as well.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Profile of Mrs. Stevens
From Elias & Annie
The moment Mrs. Stevens started teaching our whole youth group how to do “head, shoulders, knees, and toes” in Navajo, I was both baffled by her immediate confidence in us and wowed by her obvious pride in her culture and love of teaching. I think all of the still-adapting youth and adults from First Parish felt her energy and wondered: What would it be like to be present in her class? Annie and I would later find ourselves to be the fortunate souls to be aides in her class. Before we left that Tuesday morning – a day without teaching because the school had closed due to a burst pipe – Mrs. Stevens emphasized her idea of our purpose, our usefulness as agents of community service and cultural exchange. She told us that we needed to “be ambassadors.” This was a title I knowingly attempted to carry and a role I tried to fulfill throughout the week.
Mrs. Stevens is quite a character. To be completely honest, Elias and I were pretty skeptical of her on our first day. As soon as we showed up, she left us in a computer lab to help the kids make family trees in the Navajo language while she finished entering grades that were due at 12:00 pm that day. She seemed flustered and a bit disorganized, but she always had a huge smile on her face and never let us forget, even for a moment, how much it meant to her that we had come.
She hardly ever managed to pronounce my name right – or Annie’s preferred pronunciation for that matter— on her first try, but I think it lightened the mood between us all the more. Her second and third efforts (usually successful) were only symbolic of how intent she was on getting to know me a little bit as she showed off her two tall, white teacher’s aides to the class. At first that’s all we were: another pair of white volunteers who stay around the perimeter of the classroom, nameless to most of the Navajo eighth graders. That was until she called on us to present ourselves to one of her morning classes; the routine quickly proved itself an important lecture for her and certainly for us.
On the second and third day Mrs. Stevens asked Elias and I to spend time at the beginning of each of her seven classes to introduce ourselves in the Navajo way, stating our full names, our parents names, where they come from, what we do for fun, and what our goals are for the future. She then asked us to open up to a question and answer session with the kids so that we could help the kids understand what life is like outside of the reservation. We found this to be an extremely enjoyable experience and had great time telling the kids about Boston and the subways and buildings and all the restaurants. One of the funnest things to try to explain was bubble tea.
As for the eighth graders of the numerous classes, the responses to our presentations were extremely varied. For some of the students, many with stoic faces, our blabbering about a seemingly foreign culture was either to abstract to imagine or merely entertainment that didn’t particularly trigger an expressed emotional reaction. [this was also one of the difficulties of teaching older kids; only few students let us break the surface of their background, their home/Reservation experience] On the other hand, we had one two particular classes – one the infamously rowdy 7th Hour class – that absolutely loved that we were sharing ideas from the real world, referencing ubiquitous American cultural icons like fast food restaurants as well as rock and hip-hop music. Annie, Lizzy (a featured guest), and I spent the whole 45 minute period painting a picture of almost every aspect of our life. Mrs. Stevens had even requested that I introduce myself in English, German, and Spanish, after discovered By the end they had both run out of questions – except for “what is your love life like?”; a question we abstained from answering – and we had run out of material to explain.
One of the most rewarding things for me was answering the question "what did you notice as the biggest difference when you got to Tuba City?" To answer this question Elias and I went into elaborate descriptions of the awe that we felt when being able to turn around in all directions and not see one building on the horizon. We thought it was the most amazingly beautiful thing in the world and the kids just laughed because that is all they have ever known. We then told them about how excited we were about the nights sky and how in Boston we can only see a handful of stars at most. Elias then pointed out that we even have this place called a planetarium, where people actually pay to sit in seats and look up at a fake sky because ours is so pathetic. The kids found that hilarious. As we spoke about our first impressions of Tuba City, Mrs. Stevens just smiled from ear to ear with almost a look of amazement in her eyes as she said to her students, "See what you take for granted guys!"
She certainly did her best to integrate us into her class lesson, after our first presentation proved a hit – even if it was she was most clearly fascinated by the cultural and societal comparisons we made. She cherished the three days spent Annie and I spent in her classroom, and on Friday presented us each with a beautiful necklace with a turquoise stone – a completely unexpected gift. [Annie has a buffalo stone and I have a fish stone] To be embraced with such compassion and gratitude while at the school was truly humbling. One of the strongest take-away’s I have is Mrs. Stevens’ approach to motivating and inspiring her students. From what I saw and heard, she pressed the students to understand the full weight of the background and history of Native American peoples, often describing how “we were oppressed and forced to move…the Navajo Code-Talkers redeemed our sense of pride.” Coming from a bi-cultural family and heritage myself, I was able to connect to her important lessons about the preservation of Navajo culture in the new generation.
Mrs. Stevens seems to hold within her the true spirit of Tuba City Boarding School. She teaches the Navajo culture class which includes learning the Navajo language, learning Navajo history, and encouraging the students to explore and celebrate their heritage. She herself had attended the boarding school years ago and she has committed her life to helping keep Navajo culture alive through educating the younger generations.
The moment Mrs. Stevens started teaching our whole youth group how to do “head, shoulders, knees, and toes” in Navajo, I was both baffled by her immediate confidence in us and wowed by her obvious pride in her culture and love of teaching. I think all of the still-adapting youth and adults from First Parish felt her energy and wondered: What would it be like to be present in her class? Annie and I would later find ourselves to be the fortunate souls to be aides in her class. Before we left that Tuesday morning – a day without teaching because the school had closed due to a burst pipe – Mrs. Stevens emphasized her idea of our purpose, our usefulness as agents of community service and cultural exchange. She told us that we needed to “be ambassadors.” This was a title I knowingly attempted to carry and a role I tried to fulfill throughout the week.
Mrs. Stevens is quite a character. To be completely honest, Elias and I were pretty skeptical of her on our first day. As soon as we showed up, she left us in a computer lab to help the kids make family trees in the Navajo language while she finished entering grades that were due at 12:00 pm that day. She seemed flustered and a bit disorganized, but she always had a huge smile on her face and never let us forget, even for a moment, how much it meant to her that we had come.
She hardly ever managed to pronounce my name right – or Annie’s preferred pronunciation for that matter— on her first try, but I think it lightened the mood between us all the more. Her second and third efforts (usually successful) were only symbolic of how intent she was on getting to know me a little bit as she showed off her two tall, white teacher’s aides to the class. At first that’s all we were: another pair of white volunteers who stay around the perimeter of the classroom, nameless to most of the Navajo eighth graders. That was until she called on us to present ourselves to one of her morning classes; the routine quickly proved itself an important lecture for her and certainly for us.
On the second and third day Mrs. Stevens asked Elias and I to spend time at the beginning of each of her seven classes to introduce ourselves in the Navajo way, stating our full names, our parents names, where they come from, what we do for fun, and what our goals are for the future. She then asked us to open up to a question and answer session with the kids so that we could help the kids understand what life is like outside of the reservation. We found this to be an extremely enjoyable experience and had great time telling the kids about Boston and the subways and buildings and all the restaurants. One of the funnest things to try to explain was bubble tea.
As for the eighth graders of the numerous classes, the responses to our presentations were extremely varied. For some of the students, many with stoic faces, our blabbering about a seemingly foreign culture was either to abstract to imagine or merely entertainment that didn’t particularly trigger an expressed emotional reaction. [this was also one of the difficulties of teaching older kids; only few students let us break the surface of their background, their home/Reservation experience] On the other hand, we had one two particular classes – one the infamously rowdy 7th Hour class – that absolutely loved that we were sharing ideas from the real world, referencing ubiquitous American cultural icons like fast food restaurants as well as rock and hip-hop music. Annie, Lizzy (a featured guest), and I spent the whole 45 minute period painting a picture of almost every aspect of our life. Mrs. Stevens had even requested that I introduce myself in English, German, and Spanish, after discovered By the end they had both run out of questions – except for “what is your love life like?”; a question we abstained from answering – and we had run out of material to explain.
One of the most rewarding things for me was answering the question "what did you notice as the biggest difference when you got to Tuba City?" To answer this question Elias and I went into elaborate descriptions of the awe that we felt when being able to turn around in all directions and not see one building on the horizon. We thought it was the most amazingly beautiful thing in the world and the kids just laughed because that is all they have ever known. We then told them about how excited we were about the nights sky and how in Boston we can only see a handful of stars at most. Elias then pointed out that we even have this place called a planetarium, where people actually pay to sit in seats and look up at a fake sky because ours is so pathetic. The kids found that hilarious. As we spoke about our first impressions of Tuba City, Mrs. Stevens just smiled from ear to ear with almost a look of amazement in her eyes as she said to her students, "See what you take for granted guys!"
She certainly did her best to integrate us into her class lesson, after our first presentation proved a hit – even if it was she was most clearly fascinated by the cultural and societal comparisons we made. She cherished the three days spent Annie and I spent in her classroom, and on Friday presented us each with a beautiful necklace with a turquoise stone – a completely unexpected gift. [Annie has a buffalo stone and I have a fish stone] To be embraced with such compassion and gratitude while at the school was truly humbling. One of the strongest take-away’s I have is Mrs. Stevens’ approach to motivating and inspiring her students. From what I saw and heard, she pressed the students to understand the full weight of the background and history of Native American peoples, often describing how “we were oppressed and forced to move…the Navajo Code-Talkers redeemed our sense of pride.” Coming from a bi-cultural family and heritage myself, I was able to connect to her important lessons about the preservation of Navajo culture in the new generation.
Mrs. Stevens seems to hold within her the true spirit of Tuba City Boarding School. She teaches the Navajo culture class which includes learning the Navajo language, learning Navajo history, and encouraging the students to explore and celebrate their heritage. She herself had attended the boarding school years ago and she has committed her life to helping keep Navajo culture alive through educating the younger generations.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
From Patrick
The Grand Canyon
The Grand Canyon looks 10 times as big as it seems in photos, and it is 10 times as big as it looks. After >45 minutes of walking downhill at a steady pace of 2.5 mph, we were barely more than half way to the snow line, which was less than a quarter of the way down the canyon. The walk down to the bottom and back up to the top of the canyon does take most of a day. There were cliffs large enough so a small rock falling from the top would kill you if it hit. There were places where you could see the wreckage of old rockslides. When you are walking down you think you have covered a lot of distance until you look up, and realize just how small the distance you have covered really is.
The Grand Canyon looks 10 times as big as it seems in photos, and it is 10 times as big as it looks. After >45 minutes of walking downhill at a steady pace of 2.5 mph, we were barely more than half way to the snow line, which was less than a quarter of the way down the canyon. The walk down to the bottom and back up to the top of the canyon does take most of a day. There were cliffs large enough so a small rock falling from the top would kill you if it hit. There were places where you could see the wreckage of old rockslides. When you are walking down you think you have covered a lot of distance until you look up, and realize just how small the distance you have covered really is.
Monday, March 14, 2011
From Kay
In the Tuba City Boarding School, there is a sign near the middle grade bathroom that has a picture of the Vulcan Salute, and the caption ‘Wash your hands, it’s only logical’. A girl in my class came in one day with a glittering necklace that spelled ‘I ♥ Justin Bieber’.
With the familiar pop culture around me it was easy to beat off feelings of homesickness, until I stepped outside. For miles, not a single tree. Not even a tall scrub. As a New Englander, that’s what shocked me the most. I expressed this shock to one of my peers, who patiently suggested that was maybe because we were nearly on the other side of the country.
If you drove you would see a scrub or two, a couple of tumble weed, a lot of mountains, and an occasional cactus that looked straight out of some ‘South of the Border’ T-shirt. We spent a lot of time driving to many a far away state park, and even to places only a few steps away. That was another thing-- we rarely walked, and nobody else seemed to either. I was used to being stopped by a J walker every couple feet, but not in Tuba City.
Instead, at a certain time of the school day, my whole class went outside and ran around the schoolyard. The ‘sick’ kids got to walk. Once we came back to our starting point, the whole class was heaving, including me. Their teacher, Mrs. Henderson, had made me their leader after seriously misjudging me as ‘the running type’. But she did make a few good calls, such as making me tutor her students in some of their fifth grade vocabulary words. Given some study prompters, I actually managed to coax some discussion out of them, although only a few really got into it. The same thing happened with Georgia O’Keeffe. Their answers to the questions I peppered throughout the story were usually short and filled with awkward silences, but they always reached a good point.
Once and a while, I’d get a few seconds to look around the room. There were a few posters telling them to ‘THINK!!’. A long number chart hung above the whiteboard, stamped at the end with the classic worm in the apple that has unnerved many a generation of students.
Even with no J walking, even with no trees, even with the far reaching effects of Justin Bieber, I felt comfortable here...almost at home
With the familiar pop culture around me it was easy to beat off feelings of homesickness, until I stepped outside. For miles, not a single tree. Not even a tall scrub. As a New Englander, that’s what shocked me the most. I expressed this shock to one of my peers, who patiently suggested that was maybe because we were nearly on the other side of the country.
If you drove you would see a scrub or two, a couple of tumble weed, a lot of mountains, and an occasional cactus that looked straight out of some ‘South of the Border’ T-shirt. We spent a lot of time driving to many a far away state park, and even to places only a few steps away. That was another thing-- we rarely walked, and nobody else seemed to either. I was used to being stopped by a J walker every couple feet, but not in Tuba City.
Instead, at a certain time of the school day, my whole class went outside and ran around the schoolyard. The ‘sick’ kids got to walk. Once we came back to our starting point, the whole class was heaving, including me. Their teacher, Mrs. Henderson, had made me their leader after seriously misjudging me as ‘the running type’. But she did make a few good calls, such as making me tutor her students in some of their fifth grade vocabulary words. Given some study prompters, I actually managed to coax some discussion out of them, although only a few really got into it. The same thing happened with Georgia O’Keeffe. Their answers to the questions I peppered throughout the story were usually short and filled with awkward silences, but they always reached a good point.
Once and a while, I’d get a few seconds to look around the room. There were a few posters telling them to ‘THINK!!’. A long number chart hung above the whiteboard, stamped at the end with the classic worm in the apple that has unnerved many a generation of students.
Even with no J walking, even with no trees, even with the far reaching effects of Justin Bieber, I felt comfortable here...almost at home
From Grace
Thoughts
It took a while for the thought of going to Arizona to sink in. Maybe it was the
snow that came when we came, and came again when we left. I thought looking out the
window of the plane would help, but I was too distracted by the landscape to even think.
I told myself again and again in my head, “I’m in Arizona. In the desert. In Tuba City,”
but I don’t think it ever worked. Even though the service trip was the farthest from home
I have ever been, the separation wasn’t jarring, so I was still really comfortable in my
environment. I’m sure that being with the youth community softened the blow of being
so far away from Arlington. To be honest, I was really nervous to go, even though I
heard that these trips were life-changing, and that you’ll bond with so many people. I had
no doubt that it would be life-changing, but I wasn’t so sure how I would deal with
homesickness. In the end, I was surprised by how wrong I was. Even through all the
unplanned hotel stays, I really did have the time of my life.
It took a while for the thought of going to Arizona to sink in. Maybe it was the
snow that came when we came, and came again when we left. I thought looking out the
window of the plane would help, but I was too distracted by the landscape to even think.
I told myself again and again in my head, “I’m in Arizona. In the desert. In Tuba City,”
but I don’t think it ever worked. Even though the service trip was the farthest from home
I have ever been, the separation wasn’t jarring, so I was still really comfortable in my
environment. I’m sure that being with the youth community softened the blow of being
so far away from Arlington. To be honest, I was really nervous to go, even though I
heard that these trips were life-changing, and that you’ll bond with so many people. I had
no doubt that it would be life-changing, but I wasn’t so sure how I would deal with
homesickness. In the end, I was surprised by how wrong I was. Even through all the
unplanned hotel stays, I really did have the time of my life.
From Dan
Our trip to Tuba City really was an eye opener for me. All of the
places we visited seemed to dramatically contrast the land we live in.
Open land and red dust seemed so alien to me. Despite all the
differences in landscape, the Navajo were really just like us. The
entire time we were being exposed to new and very different things,
and we felt very much at home with our group and the Navajo.
places we visited seemed to dramatically contrast the land we live in.
Open land and red dust seemed so alien to me. Despite all the
differences in landscape, the Navajo were really just like us. The
entire time we were being exposed to new and very different things,
and we felt very much at home with our group and the Navajo.
From Chloe
I walked into the long building, not knowing what to expect. I was worried that people wouldn't like me, that there wouldn't be a place for me, that I wouldn't be able to help properly. Luckily, I automatically got placed in a wonderful class and was put to work. The teacher I was working with was amazing and she made me feel very welcome at Tuba City Boarding School. She told me about her life and some of the ways that the students lived while I helped her organize and work. She told of the experiences available to the kids and it amazed me how different life was from here in Massachusetts. Many times leading the trip, I heard about the culture and how everything was set up in Tuba City, but being there surpassed all of my expectations. Everything in Tuba City was very different than anything I expected and the stories I heard, the information I found, and especially the experiences I had were completely foreign in such a wonderful way. This type of service opened my eyes to a new culture as well as just being an incredibly rewarding trip.
From Laura
The different colored layers of rock, the soft, rich dirt, and the deep blue sky with clouds that echoed the shapes in the rocks made it, in my opinion, the most breathtaking place we saw. I guess I’m glad to be home to my own bed and hot showers, but I really miss it there. Waking up surrounded by friends, the bonfires, that amazing red dirt, are all things that I miss and will forever remember about our trip to Tuba City.
From Chris G
Even though there were many significant experiences at the Tuba City Navajo Reservation, one sticks out in my mind as the time where we felt like we were accepted at the boarding school. One day during the students lunch period, two other trip participants and myself walked outside of the cafeteria during their recess time. As we walked around more and more students walked up to us and started chatting and asking us questions. This was great! I finally felt welcomed instead of feeling kind of awkward. Right after we started playing a big game of hackysack which made the situation way more enjoyable. During the classroom time it seemed like I was a little out of place and like I was being stared at a lot. This time during lunch was very important because this made me feel way more comfortable around the students and made it way easier to talk and relate to them. This experience was amazing and I hope I can do something like it again.
From Jacob
Before I embarked on the service trip, of all the different activities planned, the one which I most looked forward to was teaching at the school. I couldn’t wait to meet the kids and help them to learn. However, on the first day when I actually entered the fifth grade classroom, I found that I was more nervous that I had expected. I felt as though I had forgotten what it had been like to be in fifth grade myself. I couldn’t tell whether or not the kids liked me, and at times, whether they were laughing with me or at me. When I was teaching, I worried that they weren’t paying attention or didn’t understand. In any case, I kept on with the reading and math activities given to me by the teacher. Even with my nerves, I was still glad to be there.
After the first class, I went to lunch with the class, and found that as we talked and laughed together, we all became more relaxed. They asked lots of questions about me and where I came from, and seemed genuinely interested in my answers. By the end of this first lunch, I felt much more at ease.
On the following two days, I was asked to teach math lessons to the entire class. They were working on geometry, and I explained how to find the area of a triangle. I still continued to wonder if they really understood my explanations. I felt most valuable when I was able to work one-on-one with a student. It was in these situations that I realized that many of them did understand the concepts, even if they hadn’t at first. However, even more than helping the kids to learn, I felt that my presence, as someone new and different from far away, mattered. The tutoring was interesting, but perhaps most of all it was just the time I spent getting to know the class that meant the most to me and them.
Though there were many parts of the trip I loved – visiting beautiful places, spending time with friends, learning about the culture – it was the people I met that I will remember most.
After the first class, I went to lunch with the class, and found that as we talked and laughed together, we all became more relaxed. They asked lots of questions about me and where I came from, and seemed genuinely interested in my answers. By the end of this first lunch, I felt much more at ease.
On the following two days, I was asked to teach math lessons to the entire class. They were working on geometry, and I explained how to find the area of a triangle. I still continued to wonder if they really understood my explanations. I felt most valuable when I was able to work one-on-one with a student. It was in these situations that I realized that many of them did understand the concepts, even if they hadn’t at first. However, even more than helping the kids to learn, I felt that my presence, as someone new and different from far away, mattered. The tutoring was interesting, but perhaps most of all it was just the time I spent getting to know the class that meant the most to me and them.
Though there were many parts of the trip I loved – visiting beautiful places, spending time with friends, learning about the culture – it was the people I met that I will remember most.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
From Dylan
When I first went to the classroom was unsure of myself. None of the kids seemed mean or evil, but I wasn't quite sure they'd be in the mood to listen to me either. I felt like our teacher, Mrs. Saganitso was the only thing standing between them and chaos in the room, and there wasn't much I could do to help her in that task. Why would they listen to me when I was only 7 to 8 years older than them, and had no real authority, power, or certainty of what to do when troubles came up?
There were a few instances when these fears came true. On the second day, I had an uphill battle with a student who didn't care one way or the other about school, and just wanted to sit still, doing nothing, moody. Another time I had to lead an activity getting the second graders to fill out a worksheet and trying to get them to avoid using the answer key. This was hard, as it was printed directly on the back of the sheet, and I occasionally felt helpless as I tried to monitor the whole group at once.
Most of the time, though, the students seemed willing to give me a chance to help. On the first day, when I still knew virtually no students names, they called me over to help them rewrite and edit creative writing pieces. As the teacher sometimes had trouble teaching the entire class, me and Peggy were welcomed by both teacher and student to assist. I encountered no unfriendliness from the usually sweet, bouncy second graders, and especially at lunch they let me in on their second grader jokes, as well as constantly asking me where I was from, if I liked Justin Bieber, and whether i had a girlfriend.
The school was well-equipped in many ways, with large buildings and classrooms, smartboards, and posters galore. The biggest problem, I think, was the teacher to student ratio, at least in my class. The teacher sometimes was overworked and unable to deal with all the students at once. I feel like for at least for the time we were there, I was able to help with that. And I realized this sounds cliche, but I think the youth group made a difference at the school, however small.
There were a few instances when these fears came true. On the second day, I had an uphill battle with a student who didn't care one way or the other about school, and just wanted to sit still, doing nothing, moody. Another time I had to lead an activity getting the second graders to fill out a worksheet and trying to get them to avoid using the answer key. This was hard, as it was printed directly on the back of the sheet, and I occasionally felt helpless as I tried to monitor the whole group at once.
Most of the time, though, the students seemed willing to give me a chance to help. On the first day, when I still knew virtually no students names, they called me over to help them rewrite and edit creative writing pieces. As the teacher sometimes had trouble teaching the entire class, me and Peggy were welcomed by both teacher and student to assist. I encountered no unfriendliness from the usually sweet, bouncy second graders, and especially at lunch they let me in on their second grader jokes, as well as constantly asking me where I was from, if I liked Justin Bieber, and whether i had a girlfriend.
The school was well-equipped in many ways, with large buildings and classrooms, smartboards, and posters galore. The biggest problem, I think, was the teacher to student ratio, at least in my class. The teacher sometimes was overworked and unable to deal with all the students at once. I feel like for at least for the time we were there, I was able to help with that. And I realized this sounds cliche, but I think the youth group made a difference at the school, however small.
From Owen
i remember the first day i spent teaching at the boarding school. i spent most of the day organizing, but when i got to teach the kids, none of them talked to me. i had been so afraid of this happening, that i was almost terrified at the idea of going back to the school. but the next day, when we were teaching, George and i got to lead a lesson and play games with the kids. it was then when i learned how amazing it felt to spend time teaching and interacting with the kids. i finally got to know them and actually learn about their lives. it was also amazing to grade their papers and find that a bunch of them got what we had taught. the teacher said that they had trouble learning about it so i felt extremely proud about what i had done.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Eric Kee
One of our hosts while we were in Tuba City was Eric Kee. He is an original native of Tuba City and when he was young he attended the boarding school where we worked. In addition to working for Amizade, our host organization, he is an artist and a craftsman. He displayed some of his works for us one evening after dinner. You can also see samples of his work at his website (click here).
“Eric and Tracy have been working with Amizade since fall of 2007. Eric is full Navajo and born in raised in Tuba City, AZ. Tracy is from Tennessee and has lived in Florida, Alabama, and Arkansas. Eric and Tracy both attended Harding University. While studying at Harding, they were both drawn to Florence, Italy, where they met and worked from 2002-2007.
Eric and Tracy both share a serious passion for cross cultural exchange and learning through service, thus making them fitting site directors. When not working with Amizade service groups, they own and operate a an art gallery in the Verde Valley that hosts many works of Native American art by Eric. They are proud parents to their little boy and love exploring the beautiful Northern Arizona region.”
The last sentence is not completely correct as while he was with us in Arizona, Tracy was in their new home in Arkansas, nine months pregnant. Two days after he returned home from hosting our trip they became the proud parents of two little boys. Eric is an example of one of the kind and truly decent people we met among the Navajo.
Tuba CIty Impressions
The following are some of my impressions after attending a second grade class, in Tuba City Boarding school. I chose the class because my granddaughter is in second grade. Much of the focus was on reading and I believe that all the second grades were using the same reading curriculum. They spent most of the morning on reading and spelling and each week the children were tested on comprehension, spelling and other reading related skills. The children used a beautiful library with lots of computers. While I was there, the children used the computers to test themselves on library books that they had recently read.
When I think about my experience in the Tuba City Boarding School, I am reminded of the overwhelming obstacles that the teachers have to deal with beyond their jobs as teachers. Their students come from families where incomes can be as low as $7,000 a year. Parents know little about budgeting money for family needs or basic parenting information. It takes all day to take your child to a simple dental cleaning. Few parents have time or the inclination to come to parent/teacher conferences.
The second grade teacher, in whose class we participated, worked tirelessly to teach her students to read, to participate in science projects, and to have an opportunity to have a better life. She was there early in the morning and there late in the afternoon doing all she could. Her students are blessed by her faith in them and her tireless energy.
I went to the cafeteria and saw what the children had for meals. The food was part of the National School Lunch Program. There were lots of carbohydrates but little fresh fruit and vegetables. I asked myself who is the beneficiary of this food. Certainly the large agricultural farms benefit more that the children.
The children were participating in an exercise class as obesity and diabetes are huge problems in the Navajo nation. But if all people can afford in inexpensive fast food and all the kids get in school in high carbohydrates, how can you expect to have anything but these problems. Furthermore, there were no jump ropes or balls on the playgrounds.
Peggy Gardiner
Advisor
When I think about my experience in the Tuba City Boarding School, I am reminded of the overwhelming obstacles that the teachers have to deal with beyond their jobs as teachers. Their students come from families where incomes can be as low as $7,000 a year. Parents know little about budgeting money for family needs or basic parenting information. It takes all day to take your child to a simple dental cleaning. Few parents have time or the inclination to come to parent/teacher conferences.
The second grade teacher, in whose class we participated, worked tirelessly to teach her students to read, to participate in science projects, and to have an opportunity to have a better life. She was there early in the morning and there late in the afternoon doing all she could. Her students are blessed by her faith in them and her tireless energy.
I went to the cafeteria and saw what the children had for meals. The food was part of the National School Lunch Program. There were lots of carbohydrates but little fresh fruit and vegetables. I asked myself who is the beneficiary of this food. Certainly the large agricultural farms benefit more that the children.
The children were participating in an exercise class as obesity and diabetes are huge problems in the Navajo nation. But if all people can afford in inexpensive fast food and all the kids get in school in high carbohydrates, how can you expect to have anything but these problems. Furthermore, there were no jump ropes or balls on the playgrounds.
Peggy Gardiner
Advisor
Thursday, March 10, 2011
From Marcie
A few moments from our service trip to Tuba City that were significant and meaningful, for me:
- Standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon, gazing into snow-speckled reddish-purple peaks and valleys for as far as the eye can see.
- Meeting Ms. Tso, 6th grade teacher in the Tuba City Boarding School for over 20 years, and being welcomed into her classroom with open arms.
- Sitting at lunch with “my” 6th grade class, and having one of the girls turn to me and say “So do you know about the Long Walk?”, and feeling grateful that I could at least say “a little” because of things we had been told on the previous day, but also feeling deeply embarrassed that previous to the trip, my answer would have been “No.” No, I don’t know about the atrocities that my own country committed against your people only 4 generations ago.
- Observing the class go over their vocabulary words, standard for any 6th grade class in the USA, but realizing that all of Ms. Tso’s examples would make little sense to a 6th grader in Boston or Arlington. (ie, You have to be VIGILANT when you are changing a horse shoe, right?)
- Sitting in “culture class”, and having 6th grader Lakeisha ask me if I knew what the Navajo call people like me. Saying no. Having her tell me a word – I can’t even remember it now – and then saying “But please don’t be mad, because it is racist.” James Bilagody told us that night that the term translated to “white person,” “hand-killer,” or “killer with the hands.”
- Watching with pride as two youth group members, Danny and Lizzy, made up an algebra lesson on the spot to teach the 6th graders, including PEMDAS (the order with which you solve algebraic equations.)
- Being thanked by Ms. Tso’s class on our last day, and having 6th grader Damian raise his hand and say “Daniel, it was really nice of you to teach us PEMDAS.”
- Watching Lizzy, Danny, and Eric answer questions from the 6th graders about life in Boston. The first question asked was “Do you have sand there?”
- Being given advice by Ms. Tso on our last day in her classroom. After telling the youth group members to be sure to go to college and continue their education, she told us that we now had an obligation to act as ambassadors for her culture: “When you see someone going like this [tapping her hand over her mouth the way “Indians” do in the movies], you can say ‘No, I know Navajos, and they don’t do that!’”
- Sitting in the darkness of the sweat lodge, huddled next to other youth group members; feeling the hot steam on my face, my arms, my legs; seeing the red flicker of the hot rocks; listening to the rumbling of sounds and words as our voices joined together in our individual, simultaneously-spoken prayers.
- Emerging from the sweat lodge into total darkness, the Milky Way across the night sky.
- Huddling together around the fire at the hogans, warmed by laughter as much as by fire.
- Sitting in the back of the sanctuary of the Tuba City Church of Christ, dead tired, listening to a chorus of voices singing Wagon Wheel in the front of the room, and being completely happy.
- Watching the landscape change drastically from red rock desert to snow-covered pine trees to Saguaro-cactus-strewn hillsides on our way back to Phoenix.
- Late at night, coloring paper plates in the kitchen to spell out “Today Elias is 18.”
- Being filled with gratitude that it is my job to spend time with such a fabulous group of high school youth.
- Holding hands in a darkened sanctuary, 2500 miles away from First Parish UU Church of Arlington, saying the First Parish benediction: May faith in the spirit of life, hope for the community of earth, and love of the sacred in one another, be ours now and in all the days to come.
Marcie Griffith, Youth Group Advisor
- Standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon, gazing into snow-speckled reddish-purple peaks and valleys for as far as the eye can see.
- Meeting Ms. Tso, 6th grade teacher in the Tuba City Boarding School for over 20 years, and being welcomed into her classroom with open arms.
- Sitting at lunch with “my” 6th grade class, and having one of the girls turn to me and say “So do you know about the Long Walk?”, and feeling grateful that I could at least say “a little” because of things we had been told on the previous day, but also feeling deeply embarrassed that previous to the trip, my answer would have been “No.” No, I don’t know about the atrocities that my own country committed against your people only 4 generations ago.
- Observing the class go over their vocabulary words, standard for any 6th grade class in the USA, but realizing that all of Ms. Tso’s examples would make little sense to a 6th grader in Boston or Arlington. (ie, You have to be VIGILANT when you are changing a horse shoe, right?)
- Sitting in “culture class”, and having 6th grader Lakeisha ask me if I knew what the Navajo call people like me. Saying no. Having her tell me a word – I can’t even remember it now – and then saying “But please don’t be mad, because it is racist.” James Bilagody told us that night that the term translated to “white person,” “hand-killer,” or “killer with the hands.”
- Watching with pride as two youth group members, Danny and Lizzy, made up an algebra lesson on the spot to teach the 6th graders, including PEMDAS (the order with which you solve algebraic equations.)
- Being thanked by Ms. Tso’s class on our last day, and having 6th grader Damian raise his hand and say “Daniel, it was really nice of you to teach us PEMDAS.”
- Watching Lizzy, Danny, and Eric answer questions from the 6th graders about life in Boston. The first question asked was “Do you have sand there?”
- Being given advice by Ms. Tso on our last day in her classroom. After telling the youth group members to be sure to go to college and continue their education, she told us that we now had an obligation to act as ambassadors for her culture: “When you see someone going like this [tapping her hand over her mouth the way “Indians” do in the movies], you can say ‘No, I know Navajos, and they don’t do that!’”
- Sitting in the darkness of the sweat lodge, huddled next to other youth group members; feeling the hot steam on my face, my arms, my legs; seeing the red flicker of the hot rocks; listening to the rumbling of sounds and words as our voices joined together in our individual, simultaneously-spoken prayers.
- Emerging from the sweat lodge into total darkness, the Milky Way across the night sky.
- Huddling together around the fire at the hogans, warmed by laughter as much as by fire.
- Sitting in the back of the sanctuary of the Tuba City Church of Christ, dead tired, listening to a chorus of voices singing Wagon Wheel in the front of the room, and being completely happy.
- Watching the landscape change drastically from red rock desert to snow-covered pine trees to Saguaro-cactus-strewn hillsides on our way back to Phoenix.
- Late at night, coloring paper plates in the kitchen to spell out “Today Elias is 18.”
- Being filled with gratitude that it is my job to spend time with such a fabulous group of high school youth.
- Holding hands in a darkened sanctuary, 2500 miles away from First Parish UU Church of Arlington, saying the First Parish benediction: May faith in the spirit of life, hope for the community of earth, and love of the sacred in one another, be ours now and in all the days to come.
Marcie Griffith, Youth Group Advisor
Thoughts on the Trip
The last night on the trip, back at the hotel where we stayed the first night due to snow, I remember being asked about something that struck me on this trip. Next to the beauty of the night sky, and learning about Navajo culture and history, what struck me the most were the teens on the trip. I was amazed at how well and how quickly they all adapted when there were changes in our plans, and there were many! I was amazed at how well they all worked together, were present with each other and how they took care of each other. Amazed at the growth I could see in them in just a few days spent together. I will be forever grateful for being able to share this experience with them.
Ronnie White, one of the adult advisors
Ronnie White, one of the adult advisors
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Presentation
If you are interested in hearing more about our cultural odyssey, please join us March 20th at FPUU of Arlington at 3PM. This program is supported in part by a grant from the Arlington Cultural Council
Monday, March 7, 2011
Photos from In and Around the Tuba City Boarding School
As travelers make them available, we will be posting pictures from our service trip... especially ones from in and around the school
Sunday, March 6, 2011
The Desert
We emerged finally
From the womb of the earth
Shaking
Shining
Standing naked and newborn
Upon the back of the huge carcass
Ancient beyond time
Bleached and dry
And all around the bones of its inhabitants
Splayed across the sand
Sweet smoke on the desert
Blurring the stars
And burning our eyes
As the last echoes of our prayers
Wailed in our ears
And the canyon gazed empty
Before the mountains of red rock,
Rock like the hard inward essence
Thrust up by the changeling Earth in all
Its young glory;
Remembrance of that cosmic exaltation
Long since brought to heavenly ruin
And here we stood reborn upon the aftermath,
Our fleeting feet upon the endless sands
Like the breath of an insect stirs the cosmos
We mortal journeymen are unnoticed by time
On the great, cracked face of this desert clock
Which remains heedless of regal orbitals
And sinks continuously into its own past
And so its future as well
Never caring whether the skeleton which decays upon it was once
Coyote
Man
Cactus
Or immovable stone
And only for the churning of the circular energy of life
And death
And the place on which
For the smallest of moments
We stood.
From the womb of the earth
Shaking
Shining
Standing naked and newborn
Upon the back of the huge carcass
Ancient beyond time
Bleached and dry
And all around the bones of its inhabitants
Splayed across the sand
Sweet smoke on the desert
Blurring the stars
And burning our eyes
As the last echoes of our prayers
Wailed in our ears
And the canyon gazed empty
Before the mountains of red rock,
Rock like the hard inward essence
Thrust up by the changeling Earth in all
Its young glory;
Remembrance of that cosmic exaltation
Long since brought to heavenly ruin
And here we stood reborn upon the aftermath,
Our fleeting feet upon the endless sands
Like the breath of an insect stirs the cosmos
We mortal journeymen are unnoticed by time
On the great, cracked face of this desert clock
Which remains heedless of regal orbitals
And sinks continuously into its own past
And so its future as well
Never caring whether the skeleton which decays upon it was once
Coyote
Man
Cactus
Or immovable stone
And only for the churning of the circular energy of life
And death
And the place on which
For the smallest of moments
We stood.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Thoughts on Our Presence at the School
At the Tuba City Boarding School I had two opposed sets of feelings. On the one hand I feared that we were being a burden to the teachers and the administration. On the other I felt that they all generally appreciative of our being there - especially the students. I had the pleasure of working in the middle school music classroom and not unlike the AHS band classes, the teacher understands that music should be fun. Like students all over, these kids are under a lot of stress to succeed. On top of that, outside of school, they live a life of what many of us would consider to be poverty. Yet in his classroom, Mr Q the music teacher has create a place where they have a little more freedom to be kids. Because of this there is a feeling of mutual respect between the teacher and students. I believe our presence there added to this environment of freedom and respect. The students were attentive when Andy and Misha played for them and they loved to show off their own skills on the guitar. I worked with a number of them and when the showed me they could play they e-string and b-string lesson if they day, I would give them a guitar pick. Later in the day a student came up to me at the beginning of a new class and said "I heard you were giving out picks" when I told him the condition he very quickly grabbed the guitar and mastered the six notes needed to earn his pick.
Mr Q and our host Eric Kee both indicated that these students would be remembering us forever. They won't remember our names our where we came from, but they will remember that we were there and we cared. I certainly hope this is true. I will certainly remember them.
Paul
Mr Q and our host Eric Kee both indicated that these students would be remembering us forever. They won't remember our names our where we came from, but they will remember that we were there and we cared. I certainly hope this is true. I will certainly remember them.
Paul
Closing
On our last night here together Elias and Gabby ran a workshop that had us in concentric circle pairs and in randomized small groups discussing and reflecting upon our experiences in Tuba City. They asked us the following prompt questions:
- Why do you choose to serve?
- Discuss the one thing on the trip that you expected to be one way but turned out to be another.
- What experience was most meaningful to you?
- Did you find diversity during your stay? If so in what ways? What was your reaction to those differences?
- What struck you? What surprised you about the environment, the culture, the students?
- Based on your experiences on the trip how would you define "service"? Is that definition different now compared to before you left?
- What about Navajo culture / lifestyle or life on the reservation has humbled or enlightened you?
- How can we become better people from this?
- How can you apply the knowledge gained on this trip to your faith?
Ultimately each of us must ask ourselves "What can I do with thy truths I have discovered here in the Navajo Nation?"
- Why do you choose to serve?
- Discuss the one thing on the trip that you expected to be one way but turned out to be another.
- What experience was most meaningful to you?
- Did you find diversity during your stay? If so in what ways? What was your reaction to those differences?
- What struck you? What surprised you about the environment, the culture, the students?
- Based on your experiences on the trip how would you define "service"? Is that definition different now compared to before you left?
- What about Navajo culture / lifestyle or life on the reservation has humbled or enlightened you?
- How can we become better people from this?
- How can you apply the knowledge gained on this trip to your faith?
Ultimately each of us must ask ourselves "What can I do with thy truths I have discovered here in the Navajo Nation?"
Location:Camp Verde, AZ
Saturday, February 26, 2011
What we did...
A while back we posted a tentative itinerary ... Here is how it really played out:
Sunday 2/20:
Overnight in Camp Verde, Arizona while we wait for the weather to clear on I17 to Flagstaff.
Monday 2/21:
Grand Canyon Field Trip with packed lunches
Dinner at Cameron Trading Post
Group Meeting
Arrive in Tuba City and settle in to the hogans
Tuesday 2/22:
7:00 - 7:30: Breakfast
8:00 - 3:00: Cleaning and Stacking Wood at the hogans instead of Tutoring at Tuba City Boarding School where there was a water main break.
3:30 – 5:00: Visit to Navajo Interactive Cultural Museum
6:00 - 8:00: Navajo Taco Dinner
8:00 - 10:00: Open for Group Discussion and Reflection
Wednesday 2/23:
7:00 - 7:30: Breakfast
8:00 - 1:00: Tutoring at Tuba City Boarding School
1:00 - 3:00 Relaxation at the hogans.
3:00 - 3:30 Early Dinner
4:00 - 9:00: Sweat Lodge Experience with Eric Kee
Thursday 2/24:
7:00 - 7:30: Breakfast
8:00 - 3:00: Tutoring at Tuba City Boarding School
4:15 – 5:15: Navajo Arts/Jewelry/Flute Demo by Eric Kee
5:30 – 6:45: Dinner
7:00 – 9:00: Songs/Stories/Dances by James Bilagody
9:00 - 10:00: Open for Group Discussion and Reflection
Friday 2/25:
7:00 - 7:30: Breakfast
8:00 - 12:00: Tutoring at Tuba City Boarding School
12:00 – 2:00: Visit Outdoor Navajo Market/Swap Meet
4:00 – 5:00: Visit Coal Mine Canyon
5:45 – 7:00 Barbecue dinner
8:00 – 9:00: Open for Group Discussion and Reflection
Saturday 2/26:
9:00 – 9:30: Breakfast Burritos and departure to get through Flagstaff before the snow comes through.
12:00 Bag lunch & hiking at Red Rocks Park
3:00 Shopping in Sedona
4:00 Montezuma's Castle
5:00 relaxing in Camp Verde
7:00 Pizza & salad dinner
Sunday 2/20:
Overnight in Camp Verde, Arizona while we wait for the weather to clear on I17 to Flagstaff.
Monday 2/21:
Grand Canyon Field Trip with packed lunches
Dinner at Cameron Trading Post
Group Meeting
Arrive in Tuba City and settle in to the hogans
Tuesday 2/22:
7:00 - 7:30: Breakfast
8:00 - 3:00: Cleaning and Stacking Wood at the hogans instead of Tutoring at Tuba City Boarding School where there was a water main break.
3:30 – 5:00: Visit to Navajo Interactive Cultural Museum
6:00 - 8:00: Navajo Taco Dinner
8:00 - 10:00: Open for Group Discussion and Reflection
Wednesday 2/23:
7:00 - 7:30: Breakfast
8:00 - 1:00: Tutoring at Tuba City Boarding School
1:00 - 3:00 Relaxation at the hogans.
3:00 - 3:30 Early Dinner
4:00 - 9:00: Sweat Lodge Experience with Eric Kee
Thursday 2/24:
7:00 - 7:30: Breakfast
8:00 - 3:00: Tutoring at Tuba City Boarding School
4:15 – 5:15: Navajo Arts/Jewelry/Flute Demo by Eric Kee
5:30 – 6:45: Dinner
7:00 – 9:00: Songs/Stories/Dances by James Bilagody
9:00 - 10:00: Open for Group Discussion and Reflection
Friday 2/25:
7:00 - 7:30: Breakfast
8:00 - 12:00: Tutoring at Tuba City Boarding School
12:00 – 2:00: Visit Outdoor Navajo Market/Swap Meet
4:00 – 5:00: Visit Coal Mine Canyon
5:45 – 7:00 Barbecue dinner
8:00 – 9:00: Open for Group Discussion and Reflection
Saturday 2/26:
9:00 – 9:30: Breakfast Burritos and departure to get through Flagstaff before the snow comes through.
12:00 Bag lunch & hiking at Red Rocks Park
3:00 Shopping in Sedona
4:00 Montezuma's Castle
5:00 relaxing in Camp Verde
7:00 Pizza & salad dinner
Almost back
After quick stops in Sedona and at the Montezuma's Castle National Monument we have arrived safely back at the Comfort Inn I'm Camp Verde.
Location:Camp Verde, AZ
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)