Ursula's Angels, Part I

Sitting here in Fairhope, Alabama, I’m comfy and cozy in the art-studio-turned-Outward Bound-base, listening to the ends of hurricane-turned-tropical-storm Ida whip through the trees outside. It finally feels like fall. I celebrated by cooking steaming veggie soup yesterday (and learned that one does not have to purchase vegetable broth – one simply needs to boil lots of vegetables…) and by taking a bike ride to the pier before the storm hit. It was a soggy one, and the locals I met did not seem concerned about the storm. Today, still rainy, I helped the instructional team and course director from a FINS course prepare to get back out on the river (all of their kids were sent home for a day because of the hurricane). Tomorrow, I will paddle with them and the course director, Adam, for two days on the Kenechta River. I will be observing and helping out where I can, following the progress of their course, which started about a week ago.

As we were packing our food for the river this afternoon, Adam asked me: “So, how was your first course?”

“Well, what would you like to know?” I said, not knowing how to summarize. The details are still recent and vivid, and the ‘overall’ statements still very general – to avoid falling into story after story – perhaps in a few months I will look back and strike a happy medium.

Overall, it was an experience that left me wanting to come back for more. Not because it was easy, but because it was hard. I saw holes in my own instructing that need filling and received the encouragement to help fill them. I also remember moments when I was able to shine, laughter with students and the other instructors, good debriefs, crazy stories, and connecting the wilderness trip with our students’ real lives as we visited their homes and schools during follow-up. I didn’t realize I would be getting so involved with Social Work, but – here I am! I dealt with a lot of cranky teenagers with a lot of issues in their lives, who did not want to be in the wilderness for twenty days, and who often didn’t really like me. I got hit and kicked once, called names and swear words multiple times, got enough dirty looks to plant a garden. I also played games, sang at the top of my lungs, painted nails, paddled by the light of the moon and stars – and was given the privilege of looking into and being a part of the lives of seven incredible young women for four weeks.

One day, when I was getting frustrated about spending time with girls who were most certainly pissed at me for some reason or another, Kim, my lead instructor, gave me the best advice I received all course: “You just have to keep on loving them unconditionally.” No matter how many times they cuss you out or kick the bucket or roll their eyes, simply deal with the behavior, and then keep loving them and caring for them. They will notice. Or, maybe they won’t. But keep loving them. It’s the only way to stay sane.

Below, I have written some basic information about our course. Then, for each day of wilderness expedition, I have typed out what was written in our Course Log. Some of this is pretty shorthand and may not make sense if you are not familiar with OB lingo and routines. However, below each course log entry, I have typed out a more detailed explanation of the day, especially during the first couple of days, explaining our routines, our students, and commenting on significant events. All from my biased perspective, of course…but that’s what this blog is all about, so I’m allowed. ;)

Base: Scottsmoor, FL (about an hour east of Orlando)
Course Number: F-371. FINS. An all-girls course.
Lead Instructor: Kim
Assistant Instructor: Alex aka Lexi
Intern: Jennica
Wilderness dates: 10/9/09-10/28/09
Follow-up dates: 10/29/09-11/6/09

*Some of the names of students may have been changed.

Day 1
Course start, transition circle with parents, staff, students, and instructors, Duffle shuffle in the a.m., nothing found. Swim check at 3pm. All students except Aja passed swim check – mind made up that she is going home when talks to Dan about conversation with her family. Transport to Hatsbill campsite. Locals brought airboat on land after camp set-up but turned around to leave when they saw camp se tup. Aja on two hour tstep back/separation, contracted for 100% participation for the rest of the evening. Failed her contract. Students bug stress bad but get through evening routine; can opener broke; some students did not eat dinner._______________________________________________________________________________
Even with all of our preparation of gear and plans and consistancies during our three-day brief, course seemed to begin in a rush, with last-minute everything going on at base before heading to the local park to meet with families at 8:30am. At the park, we met seven girls who said goodbye to their parents – all mothers – in an appreciation circle run by our Course Director, Dan. As typical of many oB course starts, it seems, the staff introduced each other in a chain of appreciations. Then each mother/daughter pair was instructed to introduce each other with an positive comment. This caused tension to seep into the rope we held in the circle, as many were here due to broken down relationships with their parents, and most did not want to be present at all. I sat on the edge of my seat and Ciara’s turn approached. Previously, as we had sat together on picnic tables with each girl and her mother to establish one goal in each of three areas – educational, social, and family – Ciara and her mother had so much tension between them that they refused to speak to each other, make eye contact, or even sit on the same side of the table. Later known to us as Cece, Ciara came up with “my mom’s got on a pretty brown shirt today,” which Dan tried to push to something more sincere, with little success. Other girls came up with more meaningful statements and the moment passed, but not unnoticed.
Back at base, Duffle Shuffle went on quietly. I was surprised at how compliant the girls were Because of the “at risk” population, there are very specific requirements about what students can and cannot bring on course. Students sit on one side of the room, on old desks in the screened-in building, while one instructor calls out the needed items: “three t-shirts…two pairs of long pants…” while others retrieve the items from the girls and place them across the room on blue dry-bags: the only personal space they will have for the next 20 days. Each item is patted and shaken to check for cigarette and other contraband. Finally, the girls are told to stand and shake out t-shirts and shorts. Perhaps they are so quiet because they are in shock.
Snack is served – cheap PB-filled cheese crackers. Most girls throw away at least half of their packet of crackers, something that will become a great joke later as they devour these same crackers on the river, learning to be less picky under the stress of paddling and camping.
We move into our first initiatives: traffic circle and a “jobs scramble”, where we challenge the students to group together tasks such as preparing dinner and collecting firewood into seven different rotatable jobs, each named after a strong, famous woman. This whole job scramble thing was my idea, and I’m a little nervous as to whether it will work or not, but luckily Kim knows the traditional jobs so well that during her debrief she makes sure that no one is double-booked with daily tasks. Normally, jobs come pre-designed by instructors. The job normally known as crew chief is named Sharron Osborn – she is responsible for keeping everyone on task and motivated, as well as doing some of the group’s “dirty work” such as digging and filling in the team’s “100 hole,” or, more eloquently put, the “field toilet.” The Navigator becomes Sacajawea, the cook is Rachael Ray, and the assistant chef and tubby-scrubby (dish washer) is named Whitney Huston. Our Water Medic is called Ariel, the journalist is Bella (from Twilight), and Smokey, the lady in charge of the fire, is called Lava Girl (from the classic motion picture “The Adventures of Shark Boy and Lava Girl”).
After loading our canoe trailer, we introduce van expectations (knuckles-up to the ceiling for buckle-up check, and two minutes of silence for safety and driver sanity upon take-off) before heading to swim-check at the KOA and then to Hatsbill, our first campsite. All the girls pass the swim check except Aja, who insists that she is going home and refuses to get into the pool.
At Hatsbill, the ants are furious. They swarm our feet as if our toes were made of sugar, and they bite hard. I mean, HARD. With each bite comes a fluid-filled pimple that itches like crazy and doesn’t go away for at least a week.
The first four days of course involve so much teaching and learning that it is almost overwhelming – in addition to getting to know the kids’ personalities, strengths, and issues. This night they learn hard skills such as setting up tents and tarps, how to set up and use our field kitchen, how to perform all of the jobs we assigned that morning, how to carry a canoe, how to properly close a gear-bag, and if it weren’t for the close proximity of a port-o-potty at this particular spot, we would have taught them all about pooping in the woods. As it was, that lesson came two days hence – our first night on the river with 100 holes – and just to see their reaction and make sure they were all paying attention, Kim, Alex and I prepared this lesson first: addressing the group in a very serious manner, we explained that to poop in the 100 hole, we would be using the “buddy” system. One needed two buddies to perform the task property, we said. The trios were to link arms back-to-back – we demonstrated – then squat down together over the hole, and go. We got some funny looks before we explained to them the real way this task is accomplished – well, never with a buddy.
…………..to be continued…………..