Orienting

         

     Greetings all!  Sorry it's been a while since my last post, but as I mentioned in my first post, blogging gives me anxiety.  Anywho, I've been reflecting a lot lately on my YAV orientation thus far, which has consisted of two stages: the first was a week in Stony Point, New York with all 68 of the Young Adult Volunteers serving this year, as well as with YAV Alums and national church office staff.  The second is currently taking place in and around the city of New Orleans.  Though our city orientation technically ended two weeks ago when we began work at our site placements, I’m still getting my feet under me, and while I love and value being oriented, it is exhausting, and it’s particularly difficult because I feel hyper cognizant of my age.

            Though one can serve as a YAV if they are anywhere between the ages of 19 and 30, after which I guess you’re no longer considered “young” and only “adult”, no one in the upper end of this age spectrum seems to serve.  Case in point: perhaps 8 of the 68 YAVs this year were past the age of 25.  I assume, perhaps incorrectly, that this is due to the fact that by the time most folks hit 30, they have somehow managed to figure their lives out, at least to the extent that they don’t need to spend a year living with other people that they don’t really know doing community service work.  Folks near 30 are supposed to be in grad school, getting married, having babies, or holding down jobs that pay them a salary whilst providing health care and ensuring eventual financial stability.  Near 30 year olds are “productive”, not inquisitive!  I’ve always assumed that by the time I was cresting 30 this would be my reality too.  I honestly thought that just approaching that magic number would make my life fall into place; it would somehow settle me.

            In case you haven’t figured it out yet, this has not happened, and I must say, being an almost not “Young” Adult Volunteer is intimidating.  My time at Stony Point really hit this home for me.  Here I was, surrounded by folks fresh out of college, who stared at me with a confused awe.  “What the hell is this old person doing here?” I imagined them wondering, and then subsequently tweeting/texting/ or Facebook messaging to all of their friends. 

            For me, this second year of YAV means embracing ambiguity and acknowledging that I don’t have my shit together in a profound and jarringly vulnerable way.  It also means redefining adulthood and honoring the fact that life is gloriously messy.  Relationships don’t always work out, jobs aren’t always fulfilling, achieving the “American Dream” can be a slippery business, and no matter how many times you had to read Death of a Salesman in high school, it’s still hard to acknowledge that dream as impossible to maintain, and frequently overrated.

            This year is definitely going to continue to be uncomfortable for me, but ultimately, I’m having a good time, and folks, YAV and otherwise, are meeting me where I am and respecting and even celebrating it.  I only hope that I can do the same for the people I live with, work with, and encounter through this program, and that I can continue to do so well into my “adulthood”—whatever that eventually comes to mean for me.  

 

Some pics from Stony Point...

My wonderful small group!

from left--Catherine, Clarissa, Bennett, Me, Tony, Libby, and Kelsey

The YAVs I got commissioned with at First Presbyterian Church of Englewood enjoying Korean BBQ!

Clockwise from left--Kelsey, Suyeon, Me, and Ian