This past weekend I dragged myself out of bed at 8 to drive my brother to football practice, quickly came home and threw on jeans and a t-shirt because me and Caitlin were off to volunteer at a local church that was making soup packets to benefit the Habitat For Humanity home. I felt a little off walking into the church because a few years ago I started questioning my religion and dropped out of my Catholic church; but instantly we were taken in and greeted by a group of older people who were extremely energetic and kind.
A group of sociology students put with an interesting couple and a group of older people made for an amazing and fun three hours. We were working in groups putting packets of noodles together, switching out old instructions for correct ones, re-sealing bags, putting together new bags, and having a great time on a rainy day.
I started with changing out instructions in some of the bags that had already been made. There were about 8 boxes with 16-20 bags each that needed to be re-opened and replaced with new instructions. For a while it seemed like we were getting no where, but once we got into a rhythm it went by really fast. Then I was asked to put baggies of noodles together to add to the soup packets. I worked with some of the older ladies, listening to their stories and talking to them until we ran short of noodles. Then one of them went out to buy at least 10 more boxes of noodles, while the rest of us put more soup packets together. We filled them with spices, dried vegetables, any noodle baggies we had, an instruction slip, and a Habitat For Humanity card. There were hundreds of packages that needed to be put together, but slowly and surely we got through all of them. Once we got more noodles, we quickly threw together more noodle baggies to fill the packages that needed them. After all of the filling, packaging, and counting the packets we had finally finished.
Somewhere along the way the older people ordered us all pizza, which was incredibly sweet. We all sat down and ate together and talked, which was a nice break after standing on your feet for almost three hours. Before we left the group of older people told us how grateful they were for helping them out and how much fun they had being with us. Before they left they shook our hand or gave us hugs and it was really amazing to see how much we helped them and how appreciative they were of our hard work. If we weren't there, I can't even begin to imagine how long it would have taken to do all of that.
Later that night Lee mass-texted all of us (she told us how she wants to be "hip" like us and go for texting over email). She thanked us once again for all of our work and how much fun she had with us that day, which made me smile (and her use of "u" for "you" made me laugh). I really had a great time helping them accomplish such a massive task while getting to listen and talk with all of them. It was definitely a great volunteering experience.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Sunday, October 17, 2010
My brother calls me defensive, but I like to think I'm opinionated.
When something bothers us, we should have the strength to say something back. Often no one says anything and things become silent, which is when problems start. So this is me saying something back to one of our sociology students: http://mrpanfil.blogspot.com/.
You left a comment on some one's blog the other night: i fell the same way about being taught to be obedient,neat,and polite as kid. I fell that society has turned its back on parents/ or other adults being able to hit kids around. It was good fro kids it taught them a lesson and taught them to be tuff. Now we got a bunch of sissies and weenies running around. Bro.
Parenting your child by hitting them is not okay. It's as simple as that.
For a few years a family of three has lived next to mine. Their son, Jack, is the one of the cutest kids I've ever met. Ever since he was born, I've babysat him and seen him grow. Jack is surrounded by different authoritative figures throughout the week. His parents work full time, he has an incredible nanny who takes care of him daily, his teachers at the daycare that he attends five days a week, and me. Over the years we've all noticed how he has behavioral problems beyond that of an average kid his age.
After spending countless hours there over the summer, I can't describe how difficult it was to handle him. Half the time I wanted to pull my hair out or cry or sit in a corner and pretend I wasn't there. Despite how badly I wanted him to behave, I never wanted to hit him. However, I know Jack's parents have conflicting feelings on how to discipline him. His mom tries handling it rationally, even though it takes insane amounts of patience and understanding. Then there is his father who willingly threatens him and has been tempted to hit him. (on a side note: a few months ago, Jack's dad was informed at work that you can punish your child by putting vinegar on a napkin and putting it on your child's tongue, which he actually now uses).
Don't get me wrong, I know Jack's parents love him even if they're probably struggling everyday with raising him. But over the past year I sometimes worry about Jack. It's an understatement to say his dad's beliefs and temper bother me. But more importantly than me being bothered, I know Jack is scared. After spending so much time with him, you can see through his eyes and reactions how much he fears his own dad.
Lessons taught through pain aren't effective and aren't going to build your child a strong character. They're going to remember the pain more than the lesson. According to the National Association of Social Workers, physical punishment leads to: "physical injury, increased aggression, antisocial behavior, poorer adult adjustment, and greater tolerance of violence" along with, "a risk to the safety and development of children". Building a strong character is done by supporting your children, letting them follow what the believe in, and instilling confidence in them. Harming them in any way for any reason will get them no where.
I realize there are so many factors that impact how a parent raises their child, but physically punishing them shouldn't be one of them. I loathe in the greatest way how history and society continues to lead parents in using this kind of discipline. And if you're parents raised you that way or someone told you that hitting a child is alright, I'm indescribably sorry.
So bro, I hope you realize there are a bunch of kids around you who never had a hand laid upon them and aren't "sissies" or "weenies", but incredibly strong individuals. And bro, these people are unquestionably tough. I'm sure if you weren't so ignorant and put some research into what you said, you'd understand how wrong you are, bro. There is enough all of us have been through in life that's makes us strong and tough without being hit, thanks so much bro.
When something bothers us, we should have the strength to say something back. Often no one says anything and things become silent, which is when problems start. So this is me saying something back to one of our sociology students: http://mrpanfil.blogspot.com/.
You left a comment on some one's blog the other night: i fell the same way about being taught to be obedient,neat,and polite as kid. I fell that society has turned its back on parents/ or other adults being able to hit kids around. It was good fro kids it taught them a lesson and taught them to be tuff. Now we got a bunch of sissies and weenies running around. Bro.
Parenting your child by hitting them is not okay. It's as simple as that.
For a few years a family of three has lived next to mine. Their son, Jack, is the one of the cutest kids I've ever met. Ever since he was born, I've babysat him and seen him grow. Jack is surrounded by different authoritative figures throughout the week. His parents work full time, he has an incredible nanny who takes care of him daily, his teachers at the daycare that he attends five days a week, and me. Over the years we've all noticed how he has behavioral problems beyond that of an average kid his age.
After spending countless hours there over the summer, I can't describe how difficult it was to handle him. Half the time I wanted to pull my hair out or cry or sit in a corner and pretend I wasn't there. Despite how badly I wanted him to behave, I never wanted to hit him. However, I know Jack's parents have conflicting feelings on how to discipline him. His mom tries handling it rationally, even though it takes insane amounts of patience and understanding. Then there is his father who willingly threatens him and has been tempted to hit him. (on a side note: a few months ago, Jack's dad was informed at work that you can punish your child by putting vinegar on a napkin and putting it on your child's tongue, which he actually now uses).
Don't get me wrong, I know Jack's parents love him even if they're probably struggling everyday with raising him. But over the past year I sometimes worry about Jack. It's an understatement to say his dad's beliefs and temper bother me. But more importantly than me being bothered, I know Jack is scared. After spending so much time with him, you can see through his eyes and reactions how much he fears his own dad.
Lessons taught through pain aren't effective and aren't going to build your child a strong character. They're going to remember the pain more than the lesson. According to the National Association of Social Workers, physical punishment leads to: "physical injury, increased aggression, antisocial behavior, poorer adult adjustment, and greater tolerance of violence" along with, "a risk to the safety and development of children". Building a strong character is done by supporting your children, letting them follow what the believe in, and instilling confidence in them. Harming them in any way for any reason will get them no where.
I realize there are so many factors that impact how a parent raises their child, but physically punishing them shouldn't be one of them. I loathe in the greatest way how history and society continues to lead parents in using this kind of discipline. And if you're parents raised you that way or someone told you that hitting a child is alright, I'm indescribably sorry.
So bro, I hope you realize there are a bunch of kids around you who never had a hand laid upon them and aren't "sissies" or "weenies", but incredibly strong individuals. And bro, these people are unquestionably tough. I'm sure if you weren't so ignorant and put some research into what you said, you'd understand how wrong you are, bro. There is enough all of us have been through in life that's makes us strong and tough without being hit, thanks so much bro.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Run Forest Run
Normally I stay up late every night, being a night owl is a part of who I am. Since I can't sleep in during the week anymore, I've come to adore sleeping in on weekends. This past Saturday I gave up hours of sleep and hesitantly got out of bed at 5:00 am to volunteer at the Prarie State Marathon, which took place at Independence Grove in Libertyville. I dragged myself out of bed, threw myself in the shower to wake up, quickly got ready, grabbed a thermos full of coffee, and slowly headed out. I drove to my best friend, Taylor's, house so we could share the hours and experience together. While we were driving it was still dark out, which made the whole waking up process way harder. Partying out to music in the car and discussing how pathetic boys can be woke us up a bit though.
We got to the forest preserve, which was beautiful especially with the sun rising, and got out of the car. Stepping out of the car was a bit of a shock because it was definitely a chilly morning. We had no idea where were supposed to go so we followed the mass of early bird runners who had gotten there hours before the race was scheduled to start. Everything was already chaotic and I knew that day was going to be an unorganized mess. Unorganized messes don't bode well with control freaks like myself.
Quickly, Taylor and I were sent off to two different things. Tay was at registration and I was assigned to passing out electronic anklets that matched each runner's number. The anklets tracked their starting and stopping times, and 600 runners needed to be individually handed one so numbers wouldn't be mistakenly taken by the wrong person. There were 7 boards with 100 numbered anklets on each. For a while it was me and an older man giving the anxious runners their anklets, and slowly more people were allocated to help us. Two girls from Mundelein High School were there along two people from Vernon Hills High School who I coincidentally knew through my ex-boyfriend. Each of us haphazardly ran to the boards as bunches of runners approached us, and our process was disorderly. One of the kids tried taking on all of the runners, despite other volunteers assisting them and he would yell at you if you didn't move fast enough. If there is one thing I am confident in, it's my leader skills. After I got increasingly annoyed, I suggested each of us take care of a board so we could be more efficient. Everyone went for it and everything became easier.
Immediately after we got through the runners, the race started and everyone was cheering for them as passed by to start their 13 mile half-marathon or 26 mile full marathon. The guy who led the marathon didn't entirely know where to put us originally, and that didn't change after the race started. A lot of us lifted boxes of food off of a truck to a table for the end of the race. I have never seen so many bananas in my entire life. There were hundreds and every single one needed to be separated, which became our new task. Between the smell of bananas and the irritating bees, I was more than ready to do something else. So I was asked to help set up the sign at the finish line, which was easy and quick.
After that me and Taylor got bunched together to record finish times through the computer they had set up. I read of the numbers of the runners who came in while Taylor typed their numbers into the computer which somehow also corresponded to their anklets. Being recorders was stressful and more complicated than I imagined. The numbers weren't always easy to catch, groups of runners came in at one time, and just reading the correct number seemed difficult when you were under pressure. Around 11:30 most of the half-marathon runners had crossed the finish line and two new girls took over our position.
Despite waking up before anyone in my house at 5:00, it was actually a lot of fun. Everything was faced paced and there is something about working under pressure that I like, which also made it fun. A lot of the runners thanked us because they appreciated our help and how organized we were. But we were only a small part of the work that was involved in making a marathon work. From what me and Taylor were told by one of the moms running it, Peter and his friends go for three or four days without sleep in order to make everything work. I felt good knowing I helped tackle a few of the hundred tasks those people take on every time.
The marathon also reminded me how much I missed running and how I would really love to be a part of a half-marathon one day. So after going off of almost 5 hours of sleep and 6 hours of volunteering, I still decided to go to the Y and run a few miles on the treadmill. Reconnecting with running felt great, but what was even a greater feeling was helping out the hundreds of people at the marathon that morning.
We got to the forest preserve, which was beautiful especially with the sun rising, and got out of the car. Stepping out of the car was a bit of a shock because it was definitely a chilly morning. We had no idea where were supposed to go so we followed the mass of early bird runners who had gotten there hours before the race was scheduled to start. Everything was already chaotic and I knew that day was going to be an unorganized mess. Unorganized messes don't bode well with control freaks like myself.
Quickly, Taylor and I were sent off to two different things. Tay was at registration and I was assigned to passing out electronic anklets that matched each runner's number. The anklets tracked their starting and stopping times, and 600 runners needed to be individually handed one so numbers wouldn't be mistakenly taken by the wrong person. There were 7 boards with 100 numbered anklets on each. For a while it was me and an older man giving the anxious runners their anklets, and slowly more people were allocated to help us. Two girls from Mundelein High School were there along two people from Vernon Hills High School who I coincidentally knew through my ex-boyfriend. Each of us haphazardly ran to the boards as bunches of runners approached us, and our process was disorderly. One of the kids tried taking on all of the runners, despite other volunteers assisting them and he would yell at you if you didn't move fast enough. If there is one thing I am confident in, it's my leader skills. After I got increasingly annoyed, I suggested each of us take care of a board so we could be more efficient. Everyone went for it and everything became easier.
Immediately after we got through the runners, the race started and everyone was cheering for them as passed by to start their 13 mile half-marathon or 26 mile full marathon. The guy who led the marathon didn't entirely know where to put us originally, and that didn't change after the race started. A lot of us lifted boxes of food off of a truck to a table for the end of the race. I have never seen so many bananas in my entire life. There were hundreds and every single one needed to be separated, which became our new task. Between the smell of bananas and the irritating bees, I was more than ready to do something else. So I was asked to help set up the sign at the finish line, which was easy and quick.
After that me and Taylor got bunched together to record finish times through the computer they had set up. I read of the numbers of the runners who came in while Taylor typed their numbers into the computer which somehow also corresponded to their anklets. Being recorders was stressful and more complicated than I imagined. The numbers weren't always easy to catch, groups of runners came in at one time, and just reading the correct number seemed difficult when you were under pressure. Around 11:30 most of the half-marathon runners had crossed the finish line and two new girls took over our position.
Despite waking up before anyone in my house at 5:00, it was actually a lot of fun. Everything was faced paced and there is something about working under pressure that I like, which also made it fun. A lot of the runners thanked us because they appreciated our help and how organized we were. But we were only a small part of the work that was involved in making a marathon work. From what me and Taylor were told by one of the moms running it, Peter and his friends go for three or four days without sleep in order to make everything work. I felt good knowing I helped tackle a few of the hundred tasks those people take on every time.
The marathon also reminded me how much I missed running and how I would really love to be a part of a half-marathon one day. So after going off of almost 5 hours of sleep and 6 hours of volunteering, I still decided to go to the Y and run a few miles on the treadmill. Reconnecting with running felt great, but what was even a greater feeling was helping out the hundreds of people at the marathon that morning.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Becoming Awkward or a Sannyasin?
American society values youth and devotion to the workplace where you are constantly going somewhere or doing something, even if you're 60 years old. William Hamilton of the New York Times recently dug at the negative connotation that is becoming increasingly associated with the word "retirement' in our culture (to read the article, click here: Whatever You Do, Call It Work ).
According to the AARP in 2005, 69% of people between 45 and 74 years old who were employed or trying to find employment planned to continue working while retired. Today, it is becoming popular for America's older generation to feel socially unaccepted and awkward when they're not employed. People question what they are doing with so much free time. With these conflicting feelings, older Americans continue to work just on a smaller scale. They are feeling a constant pressure to take up anything, as long as it's something.
When concluding his article, Hamilton mentioned India's Hindu culture. There they approach retirement entirely differently. Hindus embrace the idea of becoming a wanderer, or a sannyasin, who is starting down an unknown path with goals to accomplish.
Our culture obsesses and revolves around stress and work. If you're noting feeling the pressure, you're not working hard enough; no matter if you're hitting 25 or 65. Sometimes it feels like we work ourselves to our death without ever giving ourselves the chance to enjoy life or notice the world around us.
We need to start looking at how are values are really impacting us. American society needs to adopt the belief of relaxation, and beyond adopting we need to accept it. It is okay to breathe and to have fun otherwise you'll hit insanity easily. Life goes by fast enough, we all need to learn to enjoy it some more.
Even in high school, students really need to know it is okay to give yourself a break; going through Stevenson without one will break you.
According to the AARP in 2005, 69% of people between 45 and 74 years old who were employed or trying to find employment planned to continue working while retired. Today, it is becoming popular for America's older generation to feel socially unaccepted and awkward when they're not employed. People question what they are doing with so much free time. With these conflicting feelings, older Americans continue to work just on a smaller scale. They are feeling a constant pressure to take up anything, as long as it's something.
When concluding his article, Hamilton mentioned India's Hindu culture. There they approach retirement entirely differently. Hindus embrace the idea of becoming a wanderer, or a sannyasin, who is starting down an unknown path with goals to accomplish.
Our culture obsesses and revolves around stress and work. If you're noting feeling the pressure, you're not working hard enough; no matter if you're hitting 25 or 65. Sometimes it feels like we work ourselves to our death without ever giving ourselves the chance to enjoy life or notice the world around us.
Even in high school, students really need to know it is okay to give yourself a break; going through Stevenson without one will break you.
Friday, October 1, 2010
"Values Americans Live By": According to Megan
I really don't think any of us are aware how impacted we are by the values our culture instills. Values unknowingly become apart of us.
1. I can be ridiculously controlling, but that makes me a good leader. At the same time I adore surprises, but only the good ones like birthday presents.
2. Change is a touchy subject. Tradition means a lot to me, like cutting down the Christmas tree as a family every year. But if I'm trying to improve at something, I'm usually all for change.
3. Sticky notes cover my assignment notebook and my nightstand; they dictate what needs to get done and when. That could just be me being an organizational freak.
4. "All men are created equal". Give me a break. Equality is a never ending argument and is constantly evolving in our country. Opportunity for all took a while to achieve, even though it was something we were all apparently given. It's apparent equality and opportunity still need work, but I'm thankful for not being stuck at one place in society.
5. There's a good chance that I'm told I'm "different" on a daily basis, but I love that. I live for having a quirky personality; and I adore all the other things that make me who I am because that sets me apart from everyone else. If a day ever comes when I start blending in and become fake, I hope someone snaps me out of it. Independence is something I embrace; same with having time to myself because there's a good chance I'd hit insanity without it.
6. Pride and accomplishments are so important to have. I like taking credit and being proud of getting somewhere. That can mean finally picking up all my clothes or placing in a horseback riding competition or writing this blog at 2:30 am when I'd rather be sleeping. I know I'm always working hard to do what I want to do and get where I need to be.
8. Do better, be better. I go to school and constantly try to do better so I can get higher grades, which will get me into a better university, which will land me a better job, which will establish a better for life me. Basically, it's that repetitive cycle of life that's currently being crazily stressed upon us.
9. There's this need to have fun, but also a guilt that comes with it. I have to go to the barn and see my friends to get through each week and not be constantly stressed, but I know how to balance it with studying and school. Being a student and hard worker is a part of me, but I still know I need to chill out a few times a week so I can continue to be those things.
10. Comfy clothes at school help me get by each week; always looking dressed up freaks me out because I slowly start feeling uncomfortably uptight. Informal and casual lifestyles let me be more myself and more laid back, instead of being particularly proper and poised.
11. Maybe it's my slight impatience, but when something is important I need everything to be to the point and open. I'm borderline procrastinator and borderline assertive, it all depends. But it's nearly impossible for me to be direct with someone because I feel unsympathetic and harsh towards them.
12. REP! Realistic, efficient, and practical. I try to be efficient as possible, but sometimes it's just not practical. I guess that's my realistic side there, as much as I hate admitting it.
13. "I want this, this, and this, along with this, this, and this" was, still sometimes is, a good representation of my brother once winter hits. It's always about wanting, getting, and having and people get too caught up in it. Materialistic things are easy to get caught up in, but I try to keep my material and non-material things at an equilibrium, which is easier said than done.
I knew these things where something I valued, but I rarely ever seriously thought about it, nonetheless thought other people were enrooted with the same beliefs. Also, it's somewhat shocking that cultures outside of ours disagree with everything we follow and live by. Traveling and exploring the world should be some sort of global requirement because you never really know how other people live until you experience it.
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