Here's an exercise in imagination. Picture this as an Alternative Spring Break: sunny Jacksonville, located just south of the Georgia-Florida border. Unadulterated fun, clubbing every night, waking up for a late lunch and an even later dinner, with a half-hearted attempt at actual community service.
That's the "fun in the sun" impression of ASBs that some people have. Well, you heard it here first: that is a pathetic and grossly inaccurate perception, and a totally insensitive one for all those people who participated in the program this past spring break.
I was part of a group of 10 that made our way down to Jacksonville, Fla. to work at the IM Sulzbacher Center for the Homeless. Although we focused on programming events for the children at the center (it was their spring break too), there were also ample opportunities to interact with the other people at the shelter, both workers and residents. During the week, we worked throughout the day, taking breaks for lunch and dinner and returning at night to hold activities such as games and movie nights for the kids.
Simply put, it was a physically and emotionally draining experience. I personally thought that it was frustrating seeing all the potential in the children at the center and seeing it slip away due to either bad role models or their situation. We encountered a spectrum of children; some of them had obvious problems that manifested themselves clearly -- severe mood swings, a tendency to threaten violence, a clear lack of respect for authority and so on. Others were quieter, lost in their own thoughts, only occasionally offering some comments or questions, which we did our best to answer.
But despite all these differences, what was uniformly evident was the joy on all of their faces during the various programs we held for them; these ranged from an educational afternoon at the Jacksonville Zoo to a relaxed cookout at a local park or even a simple movie. Seeing their faces light up made it all worthwhile, although the programming required an immense amount of planning in both the logistical preparation and the actual execution of the event itself.
Cooking lunch for the people at the center was an experience that stood out. I was on the food line, doling out food to families and children. Seeing all the 150 males that lived in bunk conditions in an airport hangar type of room come out and line up for food was a humbling experience; it made me think of my own habits of wasting food at Food Court.
Even when I thought that I had a clear view of the big picture, the small details humbled -- a comment by one of the shelter's residents still stands out in my mind: "It's hard to be vegetarian when you're homeless." Looking down at the menu for the day, I saw a ham casserole main course, coleslaw (which ran out very fast) and some canned apricots. One could argue that homeless people should not be picky, but on the flip side, one could also assert that they have the right to pursue what they believe. I don't know if that particular resident's preference had religious roots, but to me, that particular incident drove home the relative disparity in equity.
Personally, a lot of the trip centered on relative perspectives. Being in the army, I thought of myself as exposed to the different classes of society, and the unique, all-too-real problems that men face as soldiers and as individuals trying to support themselves and their families.
But this ASB opened up a whole new world for me. The children, in some senses, were mere victims of circumstance -- for example, studying in a crowded standard dorm-sized room that holds two whole families is probably not the most conducive environment for intellectual inquiry. It sounds clichd, but why not me in their situation -- why them?
One can only imagine the opportunities that would open up for them if they were provided with the right environment to grow up and live in. It made me treasure the seemingly-mundane things in my life, from my small dorm room on campus to even the opportunity to step into a classroom and listen and learn from some of the best professors in the nation.
I suppose what I got out of my ASB was a greater appreciation of the relative differences between my own problems and those issues that are more pressing around me in both scope and magnitude. Sounds deceptively simple, but it was a hard one to learn.
I started out writing this column extremely clear on what I wanted to say. Now that I'm finished, I'm not so sure. My experience really touched something deep inside me, and it went beyond the clichs and the penning of thoughts onto paper -- that is probably the best way that I can put it. If you really want to understand and empathize, going on an ASB next year would probably suffice.
