115 Days

115 days.  That’s how long my summer was.  115 days of not really having to wake up too early.  115 days of home and travel goodness alike.  Of course I’m not subtracting summer school from those 115 days because that wasn’t really like work anyway.  115 glorious days of living simply, soaking in the sun and spending time with some really wonderful people.   Upon reflection, it was exactly what it was supposed to be—a chance for me to appreciate where I come from in preparation for moving to Egypt.  It. Was. The. Best.

Thanks to some of the best friends a girl could ask for, I was able to {pretty much} complete everything on my Colorado bucket list.  I got to see and do some uniquely Colorado things that I love or have never done.  I left with a renewed love for my city and state, which reminds me that no matter how long I am abroad, Denver will always be home.  Some highlights include rafting the Arkansas River beneath the Royal Gorge, standing at the top of Mount Evans, riding my bike like an Egyptian through Palisade, City Park Jazz with my favorites and catching a kickball, naturally. 

After summer school, Maren and I jetted off to Thailand.  Although maybe “jetted” isn’t quite the verb I should use because it takes a long time to get to Thailand.  We stretched our legs in Seoul for a day and then spent July touring Wats (Thai word for Buddhist temples), swimming with fish and Dana and feeding elephants.  I spent most of my time at Seed, a migrant resource center for Shan people (an ethnic group from Shan State, Burma) ran by Partner’s Relief and Development and Shan Youth Power.  I was teaching beginning English to some of the hardest working students I have ever had.  After working or going to school all day or night, they would come to Seed for three hours everyday to learn English.  What good is English in Thailand?  Besides the prospect of having the ability to speak to farangs (foreigners) hence getting a better job, most students were attending classes at Seed because they previously never had an opportunity to receive an education.  Some students fled Shan State or other parts of Burma in fear of being forced to become child soldiers, others left simply because there is no work and no school.  Similar to the plight that many undocumented workers coming from Mexico to the US face, Shan migrant workers are second-class citizens in Thailand.  They work low-paying, labor-intensive jobs and are frequently discriminated against simply because they are Shan.  Add in the fact that they are coming from a warzone that has been occupied by the Burmese military for the last 25 years which has displaced 2 million people and forced 150,000 kids to become child soldiers, not to mention Thailand does not recognize them as refugees, I was so grateful to get to know some of these warm and humble people.  I spent my mornings and nights teaching English that they could use with the next farang they see, hopefully at the vegetable stand they worked at in the market.  I was also learning a fair bit of Shan that I was able to practice with one of my Project Worthmore families once I returned home.  My students at Seed, most around the age of 20, are diligent and motivated.  They made me laugh, they taught me Shan and they welcomed me into their culture with open arms.  My most favorite day in Thailand was my last day at Seed.  After our morning class, one of my students, Kham Mon, took me to lunch and then shopping.  On the way back to Seed, she stopped at a market I had never been to.  I wasn’t quite sure why we were stopping, mostly because her English was only what I had taught her in the past two weeks—simple pleasantries and shopping vocabulary.  We walked through the produce section of the market, stopping in front of one where she greeted those working.  She looked at me smiling and asked if I wanted to go shopping.  I laughed as I realized that this is the vegetable stand where she works.  She slipped on an apron and stepped behind the table and asked, “How may I help you?”  I have never been prouder than that moment when I realized how much she had learned in just two short weeks.

After a few quick, but wonderful weeks back in Denver, I left for my new home, Egypt.  I had come to terms with the fact that summer was over, but upon starting new staff orientation in a country that is currently in a state of emergency (translation: 7 o’clock curfew), I was surprised to find out that my summer had been magically extended.  The school year would be delayed two weeks because many students travel very far each day to get to school and wouldn’t be able to with the current curfew in place.  And the Egyptian Ministry of Education said so.  Some might be stressed out that their new country may be a bit unstable, but I saw it as an opportunity to see another part of the country while picking up my Open Water scuba certification.  Luckily, there was already an Open Water class planned with our sister campus, AIS West. (I work at the main campus, but prefer to call it the East campus.)  So then I spent 6 glorious days in the Southern Sinai in a wonderful little beach town, Dahab.  I made my first good friends (albeit they work and live very far from where I work and live in Cairo) and learned how to breathe under water.  While the course was EXTREMELY difficult (who wants to purposely fill their mask with water 10 meters under the sea and then get the water out while still under water), in the end, it was totally worth it.  

So now, as I sit mentally preparing myself for the actual first day with students tomorrow, I can’t help but already miss my sweet summer.  But I am certainly ready for a routine.

Back where I belong.

I decided that as much as I knew I would miss Gulu this year, I couldn't spend another year thinking about and wishing that I was in Gulu.  I could no longer afford to count the days until I might one day return and as much as I want to not lose my Acholi-ness, I knew that I needed to move on.  Not that I'm done because that's impossible.  Acholiland is my pride.  Gulu is engrained in my heart.  It's funny though, what happens after being back after a month or so.  I find myself itching for culture, language and a simple life.  I crave building authentic-compassionate-intentional-yes-I-really-do-care-about-you relationships.  I seem to have a pattern when returning to the US after a life-changing experience and that seems to be investing myself in a {refugee} culture.  After Argentina, it was my Karenni refugee family.  Last year, I tried oh-so-hard to balance my need to be in Gulu, while being present, learning more about my Karen and Bhutanese Nepali students.  But what I have learned this year is knowing that I can't balance these things.  I have to be intentionally present while bringing things that make me Acholi into my everyday life.  Because those things I can do here.  Always.

Soon after I returned, I decided that I was going to fully invest myself into the refugee community.  This sounds daunting, but it turned out to be easy.  This year I get to teach ELD 1 and ELD 2 (English Language Development).  This means that all of my students are beginners or early intermediate English language learners.  Most are newcomers to the country and most of those students are refugees.  The second half of my job is to support these students (and teachers) in their B/EI literacy classes.  Many of these students have very limited schooling, literacy and language.  So needless to say, I know a lot of refugees.  And they like me.  I teach them English.  I learn how to say their names correctly.  I attempt to learn their languages and cultural dances.  And I LOVE them!  They make me laugh.  They make me cry.  They make me work harder than I have ever worked before.  They make me remember who I am.  They make me be present.

So things started to really fall into place when my good friend, Jenn, asked me if I wanted to 

(a) run a 5K (obvi the answer was no until I found out that it supported both Burmese refugees in the Denver metro area and on the Thailand/Burma border)

(b) mentor a refugee family with Project WorthMore

Naturally, I said yes.

Photo cred: Frank Anello, Project Worthmore

This afternoon I got to meet my [TWO!] families.  The first family we went to visit is a Chin family that has been in Aurora for 1 month.  Chin State is in Western Burma. When we got there, I was immediately introduced to the father, mother and the one-and-a-half year old boy asleep on the floor.  They were so kind and grateful that we were there.  After some checking in the refrigerator, Frank realized that they had no food.  When he asked why they had no food, they said their food stamps weren't working.  Fantastic.  Welcome to America.  As Frank tried to problem solve, the three kids that we hadn't met came through the kitchen door.  And then my heart danced with excitement.  In walked one of my newly enrolled 7th graders! When he saw me, he immediately smiled and walked over to shake my hand.  After trying to explain to him why I was there (without a translator), I told him he has to call me Ms. Millen at school, but can call me Jessica at home.  I am sure it would be so much easier if I just went by all three of my names.

After figuring out as much as we could about their lack of food (to be continued), we left to drive the 3 blocks to the other family.  The other family is a Shan family from Shan State in Eastern Burma.  I met the mother, father and their three-year-old daughter.  We talked for a while about how they were adjusting and what they needed.  When I was introduced I asked how long they had been here.  I was surprised to find out that they had only been in the country for 8 days.  There are so many things that they needed, but they were off to a great start.  I was sitting in possibly the smallest apartment that I had ever been in, yet it looked nothing like one would expect a refugee apt. to look like.  I am so excited to get to work with this family.  

Photo cred: Frank Anello, Project Worthmore

After we left, we went to Frank's house to get tons of veggies from his garden and then to King Soopers for a 4 day supply of meat, fruit and fish oil for a family of six.  We went back to the Chin family's apt and delivered an entire kitchen table's worth of groceries.  As we left, we saw through the kitchen window a family gathered around food, so happy that they were going to be able to eat.  

This is me officially invested.

Photo Update (Photo creeds: Frank Anello, Project Worthmore)

        

 

My life has changed dramatically--I teach middle school now!

I have officially completed my first week teaching middle school at Aurora West College Preparatory Academy.  I also technically teach two freshman in high school, too.  I am teaching ELD (English Language Development) to 6th, 7th, 8th, and 9th graders.  I am definitely having more fun than I was the past three years.  I think it might be a) switching classes after 65 minutes and b) seeing all of my wonderful kids from Crawford.  There have been a few signs that I have come across that have helped me to feel like I am where I am supposed to be.  I will share the most impacting (names are not mentioned to protect ids of students :-)

#1 was one of my most challenging kids last year. He was challenging because he is pretty amazing but succumbs well to peer pressure. He wants to be good but would come in the morning and say, "I'm going to be bad today."  He is also the kid who will work hard for weeks for the poster sized Cougar ROAR I made for him.  So on my first day at West, I was in the auditorium for the 6th grade assembly.  As students are sitting quietly, I hear, "MS. MILLEN! MS. MILLEN!"  I look across the auditorium and standing up, waving, among everyone else sitting, is #1.  Yep, I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

#2 has been my most challenging student by far for just about the last three years.  I have had many laughs with him but also have shed many tears at his expense.  He's not necessarily my most challenging student, but rather my biggest challenge in teaching.  I have had to change my teaching style in numerous ways to support #2 in a positive way.  People ask me why I would want to have him again in my class, and as much as it would be easy to have a year off, I know that the relationship I have built with him will be so beneficial to a successful start to middle school (and high school) for him.  Plus, I do it for my students--all of them.  So Thursday after school, I was walking back to my classroom and I saw #2 in the hallway.  School had been out for 20 minutes and all that were left were stragglers.  #2 was walking confidently back into the school.  When I asked where he was going, he said to open his locker that he couldn't open yet.  I asked if he wanted help--"Yah."  So I watched him open it once.  Showed him how to turn it the right way, gave him some pointers and voila! He got it!  He tried it a few more times and said to me proudly, "Ms. Millen, I know it now."  As we were walking away, he said, "Let me just try it one more time by myself.  But can you wait over there just in case I need you?"  So I watched, thinking about how far he (we) had (have) come.  After he tried it by himself a couple more times, we went in opposite directions.  As I turned the corner back to my room, I glanced back and looked at him one more time.  At that moment, he turned away from the front door, headed back to his locker with a big smile on his face--dimples and all.

#3 is a student I knew in a much different capacity.  When her family moved to the US from Thailand as Karenni refugees two years ago, Meaghan, Adam, Kirsten and I were the family's mentors.  For background, here is a part of my Invisible T/EX application that shows what I learned first from #3:

Please discuss an experience that did not have the outcome that you expected or hoped for, and expound on it as a learning opportunity.
Last fall, I and three of my close friends became mentors for a Karenni refugee family from Burma.  After setting up their apartment and making sure we were prepared to cook their first meal, we went to pick them up at the airport.  I had expected people that I would eventually build a lifelong relationship with after getting to know them and supporting them in their new country.  Several things got in the way of this aspiration.  The first was cultural barriers.  We were never sure how to plan an outing or meeting with the family.  Although they did have a cell phone (which we helped them buy), we couldn’t call them because with our language barriers, the messages were always unclear.  We felt it was rude to just show up unannounced, but this seemed to be our only way to spend time with them.  When we did just show up, we would make a plan with them for the next time we would come over.  Sometimes, after planning that we were coming, they wouldn’t be home.  We also realized that the family was becoming busy and had less free time.  They had begun to build their own support system through other Karenni refugees in the community.  We would try to plan something, and our family was unable to attend due to other plans.  

What I had hoped to be a rewarding experience became disappointing as communication began to dwindle.  We eventually lost touch with the family completely.  It got to the point of being so long, that it seemed strange and awkward to do anything about it.  These were people that we had all intended to become close with, but we all knew we had failed.  I recently saw the father and youngest daughter as he was enrolling her at my school.  Despite us, they have acclimated to American society without losing their Karenni heritage.  Seeing the two again a year later makes me wish I could start over with them.  Looking back, I would have done the whole experience in a different way.  I would have been more independent and not so reliant on my friends.  I learned that I shouldn’t rely on others to change things.  If I want to see change, I need to be the advocate.  

So imagine my surprise when I see #3's name on my roster. On the second day of school, I asked her if she remembered me and she shook her head. I told her, "When your family came to the United States, I helped you. I helped you go to school and I went with you to East [Middle School]." Her reply was, "Jessica?" with a smile..."Yes, but now you have to call me Ms. Millen."

So the second thing I learned from #3 is that I never know the impact I make on my students. Even if it feels like I have failed in some way, I will never truly know. When she said my name, I had goose bumps. What seemed like a lack of support to me, had impacted her enough to remember my name.

And these testimonials are why I made the switch. Best. Decision. Ever.

what draws me to uganda

http://www.active.com/donate/teacherexchange2011/texJMillen
I have always supported Invisible Children and its cause.  Since the moment I discovered the teacher exchange program about 4 years ago, I immediately knew it was for me.  I had recently taken an interest in Africa but unsure of what my role could be.  It surprised me to learn that so many children were being abducted and forced to commute to remain safe.  I began to read memoirs written by writers who had grown up in East Africa.  I was heartbroken but at the same time inspired to do something.  I couldn’t fathom the idea of what it meant to be an internally displaced person.  I knew about refugees, but the idea of being forced to remain in your country but away from your home and still not be safe was something so foreign to me.  In college, I had studied Ethnic Minority Studies and had focused much of my learning around Latin America.  I had strong understandings of dictatorships and the need for a country and its people to have a fair and just government.  After learning about Invisible Children, I was able to really start to understand the true conflicts that cover Africa.  Each region’s conflict is different, but is ultimately the same.  I remember the feeling I had when I first stumbled upon the teacher exchange program.  I felt excited with and immediate rush of adrenaline that soon turned to fear.  I knew I was not ready.  I had just graduated college and was looking for a teaching job.  I was unsure of where my future would lead me, but was convinced that this opportunity would go beyond my capacity.  Who was I to think that I could change something so grave?  Well, in time and with experience, now I wonder, “Who am I not to think I can change something so grave?”

            I have had many experiences since that day that have led me to where I am now.  Only a few months later, I found my perfect job.  I would teach half time in a classroom and the other half of my day would be working with second language learners.  It seemed perfect and has thus far been both my greatest achievement and biggest learning experience.  Working at Crawford, where approximately 80% of students are second language learners and 90% of students receive free and reduced lunch, I am challenged everyday with outside factors out of my control that students must overcome in order to be successful.  I would have never imagined these obstacles that my students face in my own school experience. 

            Our school community has had a recent influx of refugees.  The first to come was a Somali family who had lived in Kakuma in Kenya.  My first year of teaching, I met Mohamed.  Mohamed, who didn’t know any English or how to write his name, spent his days sobbing.  He was bullied and thought everyone was against him.  I got to know Mohamed about three months into his enrollment because he was in my beginning English Language Development class.  Still hardly knowing any English, he was timid and trusted no one.  Eventually, Mohamed began to feel safe and started to acquire English.  With time, he began to smile, make friends and enjoy school.  My second year, I had Mohamed in my 4^th grade literacy class.  At the same time, our refugee population began to expand.  My classroom had drastically changed since the year before.  Instead of just having Spanish and English speaking students, I had Mohamed who spoke Kiswahili, Bhutanese refugees who spoke Nepali and Burmese refugees both from the Karen and Karenni groups.  Although these newcomers have challenged my thinking both professionally and personally, they have become my passion.  I realized just how impacted these students were after having a conference with Mohamed’s dad the second semester of Mohamed’s 4^th grade year.  He told me that Mohamed was born in Kakuma and had never lived anywhere else.  He had never been to school.  This was surprising to me because even though I knew Mohamed was a refugee, he had always said he used to live in a big house in Nairobi.  The next day, I told Mohamed that his dad had told my about Kakuma and that I hoped he would tell me about it sometime.  Suddenly, he was writing and talking about Kakuma all the time.  I knew he finally felt safe.

 I currently teach 5^th grade math, science and social studies.  I continue to work with second language learners as an English Language Acquisition Teacher Leader.  In my current classroom, nine out of twenty-five students are refugees, including Mohamed (who happens to be one of my highest students).  Most of these students are newcomers and have very limited English.  I am grateful for the opportunity to work with these students because I know they have tremendous stories.  They also have hope and perseverance.  They are able to come to school every day, smile, laugh, learn and know peace.  They are the lucky ones that have been afforded a new life outside of their conflict zones.  Through these experiences, I have learned to always have hope to change something.  Just the other day, one of my refugee students was wearing a shirt that said, “Out of Chaos, Hope”.  It was an inspiring reminder that regardless of where or what someone comes from, there is always a possibility to better one’s life.

I want to go to Uganda because I believe that every child should have an equal right to a quality education no matter where or what they have come from.  I have realized my passion lies in not only teaching, but helping those who have known conflict find peace.  Students cannot learn if they do not feel safe and education is the only way to make a systematic change.  Now, without any doubts, I know I am ready for this challenging opportunity.

I expect this trip to be challenging and trying.  I expect to learn about myself as a person and as an educator.  I expect to learn about Ugandan and Acholi culture.  I expect it to be unforgettable.  Everything else will surprise me.

http://www.active.com/donate/teacherexchange2011/texJMillen

A subtle reminder

I was reminded of my aspirations by a six year old Burmese refugee's shirt, "Poverty shows us who are our friends and who are our enemies." If only she knew and could understand what her shirt said. I realized then that we were doing exactly what we were supposed to be doing at that moment with what we had to work with. So often, I think about how I can escape and I plan things years in advance. Ironically, I can do what I want to do here with a small mix of things I don't want to do. Which will have to work for the meantime until I am willing to accept my own poverty.