Maintenance Work

I've discovered 2 types of workers on my team:

1. The Perfectionist - These personality types focus very heavily on the little things, taking the utmost care in each and every task. The most important part of a job is to get it right and have it looking it's best. They take pride in their work, generally beaming upon their final product contentedly. Oftentimes, these types lose track of the task at hand, focus too heavily on what's in front of the, and are inefficient with their time. Painting style: Carefully trim the edges, rag in opposite hand. Clean, dainty strokes.

2. The Road Runner - Slowwww downnnnnn speed demon! These workers fly around the joint, getting done what's necessary in as little time as possible. Although effective, their work tends to be shoddy, at least compared to The Perfectionist's. It feels like they either care little about their work or are continually late to the ball (Cinderella reference, I know.) Painting style: Slop-it-on-Polly. Put as much paint on as humanly possible before wiping off what you can, if you remember.

I make generalizations. I like to enumerate. I know. But if there is no personal investment in a task, both parties eventually expose their true worker-type characteristics.

Sob Stories

In each of the three locations I've settled into (Sacramento, Alpaugh, Vaughn), there has been consistent complaing amongst local residents. Actually, I have experienced excessive amounts of whining since Americorps started. Now that I think about it, whining is the culture within Americorps. Everyone has something to lament about. 5 thoughts on this matter:

1. America has actually become a nation of compulsive complainers who can comprehend when they are being slighted but not when they are being benefited. Complaints help us fit in, to feel connected with others. Whining about all our problems is a great way to feel better about ourselves, to convince us that it's not our laziness or incompentence causing the problem, but another faction. We're all screwed.

2. My team, more than most, is compelled to complain about the program, supervisors, living arrangements, etc., skewing my judgment on complainers.

3. The regions we have sojourned to are particularly barren. Residents are thus justified in complaining, because no matter their actions no changes to their towns or statuses are made.

4. The west coast is filled with a bunch of pansy asses.

5. I may complain more than anyone else, and am not helping my cause by writing a blog complaining about how other people complain too much.


I guess my point is this: Everyone complains. It's become part of our culture, but I don't think it has to be. If we stopped looking at everything from a purely selfish viewpoint, I think we'd see how many of our complaints are simply structural, a part of living in a society with so many intricacies and different personalities. Sometimes it helps to just grin when that urge to inform others of your mistreatment takes over. Trust me, they usually don't care anyways.

But seriously, today I tried to use the printer, and guess what? The camp director said no! She is such a...

Camper Weekend #2

Friday Night

7:32 PM - Camper Ben soils himself. 20 minute clean up ensues. I've never wiped a single butt that many times.

8:21 PM - Me, to Camper Jay: Jay, would you like a S'more?
Jay: YEAAA!
Me: Would you like one of those (pointing at a S'more)?
Jay: ...No...

1:15 AM - Camper Devin's alarm goes off. I get up to escort him to the restroom (he's blind).

3:30 AM - Camper Neil: Dan... I have to go to the bathroom

Neil has cerebral palsy and a rod in his back, rendering him unable to walk. I carry him the 20 feet to the bathroom, plop him down, pull down his pants, wait, put on his pants, carry him back to bed.

4:15 AM - Jay's incessant snoring/grunting wakes up Camper Mark and Camper John. Both are unhappy, but only mutter under their breaths.

6:00 AM - Camper Devin's alarm goes off. I get up to escort him back to the restroom.

Saturday Morning

7:04 AM - Camper Aaron stirs, wakes up, and assumes it's time to get up, but breakfast is at 8:30. He asks me twice in the span of two minutes if he can turn on the lights. I cave in on the second attempt.

7:05 AM - I walk to the bathroom to find half a sloppy turd in the toilet, the other half on the toilet seat. I clean up the hardened mess.


7:10 AM to 8:00 AM - We end wake up with 3 wetted beds and 1 pair of soiled underwear.

11:15 AM - Team Leader John dresses Camper Kenny in Counselor Dennis' clothes on accident after swimming. Chaos ensues as Dennis is showering campers and we can't figure out why there are extra clothes in the locker room.

2:15 PM - Camper Aaron, a chronic thumb-wrestler who turns every high-five into a thumb-locked battle, defeats Camper Jay in a thumb wrestle. The competition lasts 4 seconds, since Jay is not fully functional, and rarely has any idea what's going on.

2:34 PM - Camper Matthew gets hit straight on in the head with a high-arcing basketball while staring up at the rim (he does this for 20 minutes at a time.) Instead of reacting like a normal child, he just stares blankly straight ahead for a couple of seconds before returning to his trance.


4:30 PM - Camper Jay, not totally grasping the game, continues to run around the circle while chasing his goose. He circles it 4 times total before realizing what to do.

6:32 PM - Camper Roarke attempts to eat his excrement after first wipe.

Sunday Morning

9:01 AM - Camper Matthew #2 repeats "tractor", followed by jibberish while staring 6 inches from my face. I continue to feed him as he repeats this for 10 minutes.

12:30 AM - Camper Neil's shoes are nowhere to be found. After a 30 minute camp search, we find them on Camper Matthew #2's feet.

Teammates Update #3

This is getting easier as I lose teammates...

Team Leader from Connecticut: The most interesting human I've encountered. I would shadow him for a day if I could (I'd have to be invisible of course), just to witness his strange interactions with the rest of humanity. He's 1/4 asshole, 1/4 computer nerd, 1/4 gym rat, and 1/4 lost soul. Every 2 weeks or so I feel really sorry for the man, like there's a really happy, knowledgable, friendly guy trapped below a facade of pretentious, egotistical, perfidious man. He's so helpless in some situations, but ensures you that he's got a firm grasp on everything. Overall he's gone way up in my book from the first 2 projects, hopefully he's maturing from this program.

Last Boy Left from Vermont: Again, everything feels normal about him on the exterior. Like's sports, drugs and rap. Simple 19 year-old happy about the simplest things. But there's something about him that irks me, that gives me visions during the day of me Mortal Kombat-style uppercutting him 10 feet into the air. He has a girlfriend in Vermont that he talks to about 75% of the time he is off of work, and who he texts throughout the workday. I'm not exaggerating. It's weird to me his dependency. He also has no idea how brash his voice sounds whenever he speaks. I'm sure he doesn't mean it, but 50% of his words come out aggressive and demeaning. Yet he is compelled to lament about how mean everyone is to him for no reason. He plays the victim in every situation, not realizing how he brings most altercations upon himself. How do you tell somebody that their personality is quarrelsome and annoying?

1st Girl from Boston: Can't say anything about her, she now has access to this blog. And farts a lot.

2nd Girl from Springfieldish, Illinois: I've misjudged her before and feel guilty about only focusing on her bad character traits. She's actually an extremely friendly woman, very positive. She and Boston are the only teammates that get along with everyone, feeling their way through the delicate situations that arise. She's also reliable, a great trait for a teammate. She's loquacious, upbeat and a stubbornly good motivator. I've mentioned before that she has demons deep inside, but I would like to retract that statement. She sometimes says the funniest things on accident, like knows what to say in her brain but somewhere on it's route to the mouth the words get jumbled up, resulting in hilarious sentences.

3rd Girl from Denver via Long Beach, CA: The youngest one, still naive. Also rarely gets angry and listens very well when you have her attention. It's getting her attention that is the problem. You have to sort of snap your fingers in her face, then she'll refocus her eyes on you. She's bubbly and smiley. Deadlines are not her thing, as she is always scrambling to be on time or get an assignment in. But she has grown on me, also, I look forward to keeping in touch with her. She is going to Davidson this fall.

4th Girl from Orlando: She has medicine that calms her down, but their's still this serious edginess and attitude that exudes from her. We are friends, but I always feel like she's waiting for me to say something so she can pounce on it. Predictably unpredictably.

5th Girl from Cincinnati: She's really fun, spunky, a lot of good charisma. But she's also lazy, smokes religiously, and gets downtrodden when required to participate in an organized activity. It's like she would rather be doing anything but what she's doing right then. Always looking for something better. But she has a good heart and good intentions. She's vegan, too.

Dan's Fireside Chats

I've struggled with the name Camp Stand-By-Me for a while now. Half of me thinks it's corny and Free Willyish, while the other half scolds me for being inconsiderate towards children with disabilities. So, since the kids have disabilities, the camp name must be extra sappy? What about The Camp at Vaughn Bay OR, if the namer has a sense of humor and full job security, Camp Pee Your Pants. It also forces my inner conscience to hum that song, "I'll stand by you. I'll staaaaaand by you. Blubber blibber blabber. I'll stand by YOU", a horrific daily occurrence.

Camp Stand-By-Me (BLAST THAT NAME!*^#!!!!) has nature trails off to the left side of it if you were facing up the hill from the bay. Because of it's hilly nature and campers' needs, the trails require boardwalk to traverse, giving it a bunch of switchbacks and wild bends in the road. The problem is that these boards are covered with what camp director Ellen dubbed "Northwest Slime", the most slippery substance known to mankind. I scoffed at this prospect at first (which I seem to be prone to do judging from previous posts, you think I'd learn something one of these days), but changed my tune quickly upon watching one of her dogs slide about 3 feet forward in an attempted stop. These boards are a menace to society.

Enter Americorps NCCC Green 6. Our daily routine: Ply up boards from the boardwalk with crowbars and hammer, pressure wash them, stain them, put a layer of sand on them for rough texture, apply 2 layers of sealant, nail those willies back in. The difficult part is managing drying time, keeping the process flowing smoothly, and the fact that everything bottlenecks at the pressure washer (because there's only 1.) When we are not working on the nature trails, we are disassembling bunk beds and reassembling new ones, moving truckloads of new furniture, or doing paperwork or other odd jobs.

Another problem is the Camp Director, Ellen. She is our first attrocious boss, a change of pace from the well-managed last 2 projects. She's like an oversized mother hen pecking at her chicks, but instead of using a beak she impugns us with passive aggresive clauses. Although not always around, we eat lunch at her apartment, which is above us. The tension in the room is palpable, sort of swirling around the room from person to person as she suggest dietary restrictions and healthy, sustainable living habits. Her austerity hurts. A little cloud of "smug" hangs over her head. She's one of those people that, as you see her coming your way, you can do nothing but groan and wish you were invisible so you don't have to go through this painful interaction and lecturing.

The maintenance guy, Jason, comes to camp 2 days a week. He is a baller. Funniest, most easygoing guy in the business. Sample conversation:

Jason: "What's up, mang."
Me: "Yo, Dawg."
Jason: "How's the wife and kids"
Me: "All 7 of them are doing well, thanks. And you?"
Jason: "Pregnant as all hell, but doing well."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ml_R9QisgRY

Easter Seals Camp Stand-By-Me

This past weekend inspired one sure thing in my search for a career field: I WILL NOT work with disabled children. Some stuff I say here may be politically incorrect, even offensive. I apologize if it goes too far. I know some people relish the opportunity to handle kids' disabilities, to use every ounce of patience and persuasion available to them so that the kids may enjoy themselves. These human saints will find happiness in their work. I am not one of them.

Camp Stand-By-Me has the best intentions: Give parents of children with disabilities weekends to get some rest in their chaotic lives. In the summer, they can drop their kids off for weeks at a time. It certainly isn't too much to ask of us as Americorps volunteers to handle disabled children for one weekend. Many of my teammates found the work rewarding and, to add a touch of Hollywood, inspiring. I did not chime in to this sentiment. I found it to be an uncomfortable mix of exhausting, depressing, and boring. Exhausting because there's a constant pressure to straddle the line between letting them enjoy their time here and making sure they follow the rules. Depressing because there was no way to communicate with them, to find common ground, and no way to get them to listen to you. Boring because every activity takes 2 to 3 times longer to complete. Let me detail.

I slept in the "older boys" cabin, with 7 campers and 1 other counselor hired by Camp Stand-By-Me. They boys were older than the average, if you hadn't guessed from their cabin name. 1 of them was blind and mute, he needed a wheelchair to get around and required 2 depends at night accompanied with a special absorbent sheet for when he wet the bed. Another spoke only 2 words: Wa-Wa and Beer! (or Beard!? I couldn't tell). He needed someone to hold on to going up and down the hill that makes up Camp Stand-By-Me, something due to his legs not functioning properly. He also would automatically wet the bed, and sometimes deficate in it. Another young man was severely autistic, speaking back to you only what you said to him. He would masturbate in his bed throughout the night. One camper had cerebral palsy, and when needing to pee in the night would have to notify a counselor of his predicament and we would carry him to the toilet. 2 more kids with down syndrome were unrelentingly stubborn, rendering it useless to even try to get them out of bed without physically lifting them up, which required a couple counselors. Sleep was limited to a 6 hours, way better than the 3-4 hours for those posted to the "younger boys" cabin. But the sleep was restless wondering when the next camper would need help in the middle of the night.

Little things like cleaning up their private areas after a bowel movement or urination, feeding them as they drooled and half the food fell to the ground, and persuading them to stay in my sight made the experience unpleasant. The most frustrating part was not being able to understand what they wanted. Many times I had to guess at their intentions and motivations. It's weird to finally be getting a grasp of human nature and social intelligence, only to be put in this situation and feel so useless. I hated the feeling. This was where it got boring. I gave up trying and so had only myself to "hang out" with. I don't blame myself for giving up. I'm not suited for this type of misery. I don't look forward to the next 2 weekends with the campers, early and late May. Then again I'll be positive and it will eventually end. Just hopefully this time I won't be the one fishing turds out of the pool with a pool net.

The Great Northwest

What's better than a fresh start? Not much. I ended transition in Sacramento with a vague uneasiness of the days to come. Green 6 (my team) is down to 8 members, 5 girls, 2 seven-year-old boys, and me. Before my Central Virginia God-loving sports enthusiast left to pursue other interests, the burden of trustworthy maledom was split between us. Now it falls on me. The other two don't have the girls' trust, and refuse to take on any responsibility (even though one of them is the "Team Leader"). So it's me who's left to quell the storms as they approach. Beyond that, it is imperative that I stay even-keeled, not blow up, and, in turn, lose my respectability. This will be the hard part if you know my past. I also can't retreat to a mental hole if things start to turn sour because there's nobody left to step in and mediate the disparaging remarks being thrown around. I'm uneasy about my transition to manhood. Is it worth spending so much effort on people I don't necessarily like?

Monday rolls around, next stop: Washington. Not exactly. First we go to iHop for breakfast. Anyone been to that place recently? I left feeling like I had just been suckered into an internet money scam. I've never thought poorly of iHop before; I usually sling myself onto that bandwagon if the opportunity arises. This morning was no different. I couldn't wait to devour some savory pancakes with a carafe of fresh orange juice. Our budget was 9 dollars. Since my bladder was filled above it's tolerable capacity, I got back to the table with less than a minute to spare before the waitress would politely require my order. I ditched the pancakes. Two eggs, 2 bacon strips, home fries, toast. Yum. For 8.99. What I got was worth between $2.12 and $2.14. The eggs came from mini-land, the hashbrowns looked more like the dish that someone brings to a potluck that nobody touches, and the bacon seemed to be the meat from a mouse, or another small rodent. It was a good meal for pinocchio. For 8.99. Tricked by that blue roofing. Never again. There's this mystique about iHop, but I don't know where it comes from. Insanely overpriced, average portion sizes, annoying blue roofs. They just have a bright-colored menu with all sorts of great deals and specials! YA!!! (just don't look at the pricetag.) damn you capitalism and good advertising. All you can eat pancakes? NOBODY CAN PHYSICALLY EAT MORE THAN 2 OF YOUR FLUFFY ASS PANCAKES! And they make my mouth dry. iHop? iStop.

We stayed the night in Portland after about 8 hours of driving and a couple stops. I met up with some Hamilton alums who had moved out after graduation (Lars, Jesse and Steve Rowe for those who care.) They showed us a cross-section of Portland, and I liked what I saw. We arrived at what looked like a residential neighborhood on the north side of the city on Monday at 11 pm. I wasn't sure what the plan was, but Lars said he had some places in mind. We walked about 2 blocks before we reached a mini main street that had everything you could ask of a neighborhood. Italian, Mexican, Bars, Strange shops, normal shops, even light bulb store. And the bar we walked into was occupied by people, an astonishing fact considering the time and place. I got a great vibe from Portland, Oregon.

We arrived in Key Corner, Washington the next day around 2 PM and met with our bosses, Ellen and Jason. Ellen runs the camp, and acts like a camp director should in my mind: Smart, tough, omniscient of her camp. She rubbed people the wrong way because it was obvious she would be demanding, but thats alright by me. Rather have that than a wishy washy complainer for a boss. Reduces my responsibility I hope. Jason is the man. He approached us wearing a US Soccer jersey from Champion that I think was size Xtra Small. It just barely covered his belly button, a sweet shirt by just about any standard. He is the maintenace guy for the camp and he constantly cracks jokes and grins like a ninja turtle or Tiki Barber (they are one and the same). He'll be our day to day boss as we revamp the nature trails. I look forward to his leadership style and overall nature.

This weekend about 25 campers are staying at Easter Seals Camp Stand By Me (where we are). Their disabilities range from Autism to Down Syndrome to Epilepsy. The training they have given us has only made me more apprehensive, as they outline only teh worst case scenarios. I'll get back to you on how it turns out... if you stick around after these messages from your local station.