Listen

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Sometimes we only realize how easy we have it when we get to know the misfortune of others. This makes us sad, upset, even angry when we encounter it. We anticipate depression and awkward feelings in our future, but no feeling as awkward as the ones you feel when immediately confronted by the person or situation.

When my work asked if I would take on a special project, instructing a cooking class for foster, homeless, and at-trouble youth, I happily said yes. It was a chance to combine my love of teaching (yes, this is what all this MA hullabaloo is about the past few years) and cooking. Furthermore, it would give me a chance to better interact with the kids my company works with.

I've been shadowing the current teachers, a delightful retired couple who after five years are ready to hang up their apron strings, in order to learn about their process, see what works and what doesn't, and let the kids get to know me a bit better and me them. They've invaluable and hilarious and make the process all the better. I listen and learn the things I need to know (how to fix the tripped breakers), want to know (what dishes you should avoid teaching, like making pasta from scratch), and don't want to know (what kids have cutting problems).

Now, rounding up thirty-plus twelve to eighteen year olds (some with kids of their own) and trying to accurately instruct them on how to use a knife safely, use a skillet without burning the chicken, or seed chilies is a unique sort of chaos. You only let it reign so much in certain ways. It cannot ever be fully quelled. Rather, you find little problems and offer little solutions which give you and the child a sense of accomplishment. Total control and having them all listen is, I've learned, an impossibility, but some do listen and in that you find joy when one of them comes up to you the next week and excitedly tells you she made dinner for her new foster family and they couldn't have been happier. Then she thanks you, and you're glad you listened and realized how much those small things mean.

Yet, listening is my real problem. I hear too much. Things I'm not ready to hear because I cannot respond. Many of the kids attend the cooking class because it is simply a meal, and I turn a blind eye if they decide to make more than one mini-apple cake even though we're low on ingredients because they might not get to eat tomorrow. Something that terrifies me when I realize some of them aren't even old enough to drive. Or listening as one of them tells me how she slept in a tree the previous night to keep herself safe from drug dealers and other crazy people on the street. How she tied her shoelaces together around a branch as a means to keep herself from falling out and hurting herself. (It worked, surprisingly.) And all you can do is listen, because sometimes that's all they want at the moment, and, honestly, there's so little I can actually do except help her read the recipe and teach her to make an apple cake because someday, I hope, she'll have a kitchen to do this in and someone to make an apple cake for.

And all this listening makes me sad. One of the therapists on staff tell me not to worry, many programs, like the one I work for, do what they can. Many of these kids will be alright, and, at the same time, many won't. You do what you can and sometimes it works. When it does it keeps you going. It keeps the moral glitter of what you do shining.

The bad feelings only last so long. It makes me feel guilty or even ashamed to say that after an hour or so I soon feel overjoyed and thankful for just how bad I have it. I have school debt? I didn't get to the gym? I'm almost out of wine? Fuck my problems. I slept in a bed last night. Life is good and my problems aren't that epic. Comparison is at times one of the greatest lenses of perspective.

Next week I'll be there again. The class will work and stumble its way through making stir-fry and if we make it through without any injuries I'll call it a success. I'll teach one or two more how to properly use a knife and I'll listen to whoever wants to talk.

16 comments:

  1. That's so great. Please post more details on your teaching as it goes forward--I'm trying to get into such things here in NYC and it always helps to hear about how and what people are teaching to kids (and adults) and how classes respond to various cooking projects.

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  2. Thanks Garrett for reaffirming my belief that, as a counselor (my goal in life), my most valuable tool is my ability to listen. If there is one thing that I have learned throughout my journey it is this: most of us need someone to listen to us. Love your site...

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  3. Just a heads up, no pictures or names in this post because it would violate the privacy of the kids I work with. Sorry.

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  4. wow, i know the best counselors for kids like that, are never the counselors, church people or social workers, its guys like you. Teachers, nurses, random people they make brief encounters with can have the most effect in their lives.

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  5. G - This is such wonderful work. The key, as you know, will be finding a balance, so you can put everything you can into it and not get burned out.

    The speaker at my graduation this May was Brian Stevenson, a professor at NYU law and a fervent civil rights attorney. He said something that was very meaningful - this kind of public service work is heartwarming, but also physically and emotionally exhausting. But there are "small victories" that make the whole experience worth it and give you the fire to keep going. I imagine the girl telling you about making dinner for her foster family was one of those.

    Best of luck! Keep fighting the good fight.

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  6. Thanks for sharing these thoughts Garrett - I'm on the board of Operation Frontline Colorado and serve as a volunteer chef teaching healthy cooking on a limited budget to low income families in the Denver area. Most struggle to feed their families, most have limited transportation means, and all are so happy they can participate in our programs. I can totally relate to your feelings, and my work with the students does help me keep all of my "problems" in perspective. I too turn a blind eye when they take a little extra food home, knowing that perhaps they are trying to feed 8-10 people on the small bag of groceries I give them each week. OFL is part of Share our Strength - you might be interested in checking out their programs where you live.

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  7. God bless you for teaching this class to these children. My Husband is a science teacher and would rather teach in an inner city school where he meets many children like this than in a cushy suburbia school where the children have everything they could ever want. He feels more satisfied because he reaches more. I feel more satisfied because he feels his sense of purpose. It makes him happy so I am happy.

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  8. What a great story. Thanks so much for sharing. I can't get the image of a child sleeping in a tree with their shoelaces tied around a branch out of my head.

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  9. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts about this. I work in a service nonprofit as well, and it's frustrating and fulfilling and depressing and inspiring all at the same time. You put into words exactly why we do the work we do.

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  10. Impressed with your efforts - Listening (or hearing) and teaching is better help than most people can offer :-)

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  11. Oh Garrett, you made an old cynical social worker like me get verklempt. Bravo.

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  12. Thank you for that Garrett. Just... thank you.

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  13. I'm teary after reading this. I spent seven years working with kids just like this and you brought back so many memories. Thank you for awakening that part of my life again. I'm so glad you're doing this. To some of them, you will mean everything.

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  14. The adults in these kids’ lives have so much they are dealing with that listening to their children is just too much to ask. That simple act of listening may just change the trajectory of these young lives.

    Years ago I taught a group of adults in the welfare to work programs that swept across the US and knew I wasn’t going to succeed in teaching this group cooking but was showing them a path to another way of looking at the world and their place in it. Several of these people kept in touch with me, they had indeed obtained gainful employment in fields that piqued their interests, had moved into their own apartments, not funded by welfare, and were showing their kids how to maneuver in this world.

    Keep up this very draining but wonderful work Garrett. Your kitchen is your sanctuary; your classroom is your pulpit.

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  15. That is very cool that you are doing this! As a teacher, I know how skills like cooking, art, music, etc...are the things that kids connect with. It is also, obviously, a lifeskill (one that I am still working on!)
    Anyway, I think it is great that you are doing this and I hope I get to read about some of your experiences.

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  16. It's such a great thing to do. I do believe that we are touched by those people who needs to be listened. Congrats on such a great blog!

    I'll be coming back!

    M.
    www.absolutamenteposh.com

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Hey, you're leaving a comment! That's pretty darn cool, so thanks. If you have any questions or have found an error on the site or with a recipe, please e-mail me and I will reply as soon as possible.
~Garrett

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