Here it is...what you've been waiting for...
The WINGS Creed
I soar with WINGS. Let me tell you why.
I learn lots of skills that help me reach the sky.
I love and accept who I am on the inside
and know my emotions are nothing to hide
Life’s full of surprises that make me feel different ways.
If I can control myself, I will have much better days.
I understand the choices I make should be what’s best for me to do,
and what happens is on me and not any of you.
I understand others are unique. I want to learn more about everyone I meet.
I want to step into their shoes and see what they are going through.
I am a friend. I support and trust. Working together is a must.
Kind and caring I will be. I listen to you. You listen to me.
I soar with WINGS. I just told you why.
All of these things are why I fly high.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
I Soared...
The other day, I had the most amazing experience. I attended a kind of after-school program for…not just “at risk” kids, but for the most “disadvantaged” kids -- kids who had the lowest grades, the worst behavior problems in one of the poorest schools in Charleston, SC. It’s not just another “after school” program: the purpose of this program is to teach social and emotional intelligence skills to these children.
The program is called WINGS for Kids and is the brainchild of a very creative woman named Ginny Deerin. Last Wednesday she took me to see one of her WINGS programs, up front and personal. (See www.wingsforkids.org)
Here’s what happened: we arrived at the school and were treated like very special guests. One of the leaders, Brendon, came over and gave us a HUGE hug. I felt more than physically embraced. Two “ambassadors” from the program came to welcome us as special guests. When I asked them how they happened to be chosen ambassadors, one said: “Because they trust us.”
There are about 150 kids in the program, ranging from kindergarteners to fifth graders. (I don’t really know what to call them because children makes them sound too young and participants too impersonal.) The program is every day from 2:30 – 5:30 in the afternoon, and every kid gets a hot meal at the end of the day.
The children, the kids, are organized into groups of about 10, called “nests”, each of which is headed by a “wing leader.” These wing leaders are college students who have committed to participating in the program. There is a very specific design to the program, including a snacktime “meet and greet” where the kids get to talk and dance in their respective groups and express the pent up energy of being in school all day. Then, there is a community segment where everyone comes together to do a learning activity. There are elective segments where the kids can choose how and where to spend their time.
I loved it.
That week the learning segment was about dealing with “conflict.” The program director asked the room full of kids whether they could tell her what was important when handling conflict. Lots of hands went up with the “oooooh, oooooooh, call on me” enthusiasm. When asked, one kid said: “You’re not supposed to yell at people.” Another replied: “Everyone has to give a little.” It was pretty impressive and so exciting to feel the positive energy in the room.
At the end of the segment, and before going to their community service work outside, everyone said The WINGS Creed. You’ll have to come back tomorrow to read the creed, but if I were you, I wouldn’t miss it. You might want to adapt it as your own daily creed.
Finally, before I go, I want to give a special shout out to the Wings leaders. The program wouldn’t be successful without them. They were patient, but firm, acting as positive role models for the kids. I was impressed with their dedication. Remember Brendon? He was going to be a computer specialist, but as a result of his experience with WINGS, he has decided to become a teacher and work with kids.
Years ago, a Wings leader was on track to become a law student. During his experience with WINGS, he also decided to change his major to education and this year, he became the principal of the very same school where he had participated in the WINGS program.
So, is WINGS effective? It is changing lives. More tomorrow…
The program is called WINGS for Kids and is the brainchild of a very creative woman named Ginny Deerin. Last Wednesday she took me to see one of her WINGS programs, up front and personal. (See www.wingsforkids.org)
Here’s what happened: we arrived at the school and were treated like very special guests. One of the leaders, Brendon, came over and gave us a HUGE hug. I felt more than physically embraced. Two “ambassadors” from the program came to welcome us as special guests. When I asked them how they happened to be chosen ambassadors, one said: “Because they trust us.”
There are about 150 kids in the program, ranging from kindergarteners to fifth graders. (I don’t really know what to call them because children makes them sound too young and participants too impersonal.) The program is every day from 2:30 – 5:30 in the afternoon, and every kid gets a hot meal at the end of the day.
The children, the kids, are organized into groups of about 10, called “nests”, each of which is headed by a “wing leader.” These wing leaders are college students who have committed to participating in the program. There is a very specific design to the program, including a snacktime “meet and greet” where the kids get to talk and dance in their respective groups and express the pent up energy of being in school all day. Then, there is a community segment where everyone comes together to do a learning activity. There are elective segments where the kids can choose how and where to spend their time.
I loved it.
That week the learning segment was about dealing with “conflict.” The program director asked the room full of kids whether they could tell her what was important when handling conflict. Lots of hands went up with the “oooooh, oooooooh, call on me” enthusiasm. When asked, one kid said: “You’re not supposed to yell at people.” Another replied: “Everyone has to give a little.” It was pretty impressive and so exciting to feel the positive energy in the room.
At the end of the segment, and before going to their community service work outside, everyone said The WINGS Creed. You’ll have to come back tomorrow to read the creed, but if I were you, I wouldn’t miss it. You might want to adapt it as your own daily creed.
Finally, before I go, I want to give a special shout out to the Wings leaders. The program wouldn’t be successful without them. They were patient, but firm, acting as positive role models for the kids. I was impressed with their dedication. Remember Brendon? He was going to be a computer specialist, but as a result of his experience with WINGS, he has decided to become a teacher and work with kids.
Years ago, a Wings leader was on track to become a law student. During his experience with WINGS, he also decided to change his major to education and this year, he became the principal of the very same school where he had participated in the WINGS program.
So, is WINGS effective? It is changing lives. More tomorrow…
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Kayaking and A Pistol
FLASHBACK: Sometimes I will have written a post, but not entered it on the blog. Since we are on the gun theme, I thought I would include this one...
The moon is full, which means the tide is high and that translates into terrific kayaking through the marsh grasses out back. 12 noon is high tide so I went to the back room to change into my kayaking gear, only to come out to find Landon…packing a pistol. Toto, I’m not in Kansas anymore…apparently I’m not in New York either. Why take a pistol to kayak? Because of the possibilities of alligators, of course.
Landon explained it this way: “I take the pistol so that when we see an alligator, I shoot you. That way the alligator has something to eat.” Very funny, that Southern humor.
What are the chances of seeing an alligator? Well…half-way into the trip, guess what we see? That’s right, an alligator about 50 feet away. Landon dismissed the danger with a “Oh, he’s just a small one. About 6 feet.” To which I replied, “Sweetie, please take out your gun.” Not only did he pull it out of its holster, he cocked the trigger! Maybe I can learn to like guns after all. We didn’t have to shoot, but when we came back his way, we did see his back glistening right under the water and his eyes poked up. I paddled faster. Pretty exciting day for a city girl like me…
The moon is full, which means the tide is high and that translates into terrific kayaking through the marsh grasses out back. 12 noon is high tide so I went to the back room to change into my kayaking gear, only to come out to find Landon…packing a pistol. Toto, I’m not in Kansas anymore…apparently I’m not in New York either. Why take a pistol to kayak? Because of the possibilities of alligators, of course.
Landon explained it this way: “I take the pistol so that when we see an alligator, I shoot you. That way the alligator has something to eat.” Very funny, that Southern humor.
What are the chances of seeing an alligator? Well…half-way into the trip, guess what we see? That’s right, an alligator about 50 feet away. Landon dismissed the danger with a “Oh, he’s just a small one. About 6 feet.” To which I replied, “Sweetie, please take out your gun.” Not only did he pull it out of its holster, he cocked the trigger! Maybe I can learn to like guns after all. We didn’t have to shoot, but when we came back his way, we did see his back glistening right under the water and his eyes poked up. I paddled faster. Pretty exciting day for a city girl like me…
Monday, April 20, 2009
The Glock is My Best Friend
Today it happened...
I held a pistol for the first time.
My husband and I wanted to take a walk and you know that situation with the "wild dogs" next to us so we needed to arm ourselves, to protect ourselves.
Funny how guns can seem to be so strange and I still have judgments about people who have them until I realize how important they can be in giving me a sense of security in this wild land called "the country."
Who knows? Maybe I'll actually learn how to shoot one some day. More experiences like the "wild dogs" and I'll learn pretty quickly!
I held a pistol for the first time.
My husband and I wanted to take a walk and you know that situation with the "wild dogs" next to us so we needed to arm ourselves, to protect ourselves.
Funny how guns can seem to be so strange and I still have judgments about people who have them until I realize how important they can be in giving me a sense of security in this wild land called "the country."
Who knows? Maybe I'll actually learn how to shoot one some day. More experiences like the "wild dogs" and I'll learn pretty quickly!
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Wild Dogs
OK, first I had to get used to the alligators down here. Then it was the snakes (rattlesnakes, copperheads). And, now it's...wild dogs?!
Tonight I got home from my trip up north. My husband hadn't come home yet and I was unpacking some things, thinking of taking the dogs for a walk in the field, when I received a call from a neighbor.
"Oh, you're home!, she exclaimed, "I thought I heard a car." And, then she proceeded to tell me that I couldn't go out for a walk because there had been an attack of wild dogs, feral dogs who apparently were living in the woods next to our house. They had killed a deer there. And then...
On Wednesday of last week, two ladies on horseback were crossing the field near our house when suddenly a pack of dogs came running out of the woods and started attacking the horses. Can you imagine? These dogs were between 35 - 50 pounds, attacking horses that weigh 1,100 lbs. Now, that's aggressive!
My other neighbor, John, was driving down the road and saw it all happen before his eyes. He told me he was happy that he happened to have a rifle in the back seat of his car. (That's one of the things that I still can't get used to -- everyone seems to have, and to carry, a gun with them. Bizarre to a city girl when seeing a gun usually meant your life was in danger. Now my life is endangered when I don't have a gun. People use them to shoot the alligators, the snakes and other threatening creatures...)
Back to the attack: John told me that when he arrived at the scene, the dogs were attacking the horses and the ladies were trying to dismount because they were worried that their horses would spook and then buck them off. John didn't want to shoot because he was concerned that the shot would spook the horses. At that point, a member of the hunt department showed up and with all of this commotion, the dogs ran back into the woods. The guy from the hunt department tried to chase them down. He caught up with them in the woods, but his gun didn't work and they started attacking him so that he had to use the butt of his gun to fend them off while he ran back to the truck to get another rifle. Apparently he was able to shoot one of the dogs. There were 6, now there are 5. Part pitbull.
We have been warned NOT to take a walk, not to travel alone. Everyone I know who likes to walk their dogs has been "packing heat," carrying pistols and shotguns and rifles. We are well armed here.
I don't know which alarms me more -- the fact that there are a pack of wild dogs living in the woods next door to my house or that all of my neighbors walk around heavily armed, and think nothing of it! I'm still getting used to this culture...slowly...
Tonight I got home from my trip up north. My husband hadn't come home yet and I was unpacking some things, thinking of taking the dogs for a walk in the field, when I received a call from a neighbor.
"Oh, you're home!, she exclaimed, "I thought I heard a car." And, then she proceeded to tell me that I couldn't go out for a walk because there had been an attack of wild dogs, feral dogs who apparently were living in the woods next to our house. They had killed a deer there. And then...
On Wednesday of last week, two ladies on horseback were crossing the field near our house when suddenly a pack of dogs came running out of the woods and started attacking the horses. Can you imagine? These dogs were between 35 - 50 pounds, attacking horses that weigh 1,100 lbs. Now, that's aggressive!
My other neighbor, John, was driving down the road and saw it all happen before his eyes. He told me he was happy that he happened to have a rifle in the back seat of his car. (That's one of the things that I still can't get used to -- everyone seems to have, and to carry, a gun with them. Bizarre to a city girl when seeing a gun usually meant your life was in danger. Now my life is endangered when I don't have a gun. People use them to shoot the alligators, the snakes and other threatening creatures...)
Back to the attack: John told me that when he arrived at the scene, the dogs were attacking the horses and the ladies were trying to dismount because they were worried that their horses would spook and then buck them off. John didn't want to shoot because he was concerned that the shot would spook the horses. At that point, a member of the hunt department showed up and with all of this commotion, the dogs ran back into the woods. The guy from the hunt department tried to chase them down. He caught up with them in the woods, but his gun didn't work and they started attacking him so that he had to use the butt of his gun to fend them off while he ran back to the truck to get another rifle. Apparently he was able to shoot one of the dogs. There were 6, now there are 5. Part pitbull.
We have been warned NOT to take a walk, not to travel alone. Everyone I know who likes to walk their dogs has been "packing heat," carrying pistols and shotguns and rifles. We are well armed here.
I don't know which alarms me more -- the fact that there are a pack of wild dogs living in the woods next door to my house or that all of my neighbors walk around heavily armed, and think nothing of it! I'm still getting used to this culture...slowly...
Saturday, April 18, 2009
The Darien Boat Club
We had the moving company come today to give my parents an estimate on what it would cost to move their things to Chicago.
I know that I should be feeling really emotional about the breaking up of our home, about losing a footprint in coastal Connecticut, which has always been home to me, about the passage of a chapter in my life. But, right now, I don't.
I don't have time. There is too much to do.
This week we have accomplished a lot. We got my dad back on his feet and into some personal training, or physical therapy, where he can work on building strength and gaining more flexibility. That was Tuesday.
Wednesday I measured out the size of the rooms in their new home and put string markings on the floor so that mom, dad and I could create furniture arrangements for the rooms in my parent's new home. I moved a lot of furniture. It was so much fun to see what pieces they can take with them and how it will look. We even took pictures. It just felt good to make decisions about what pieces to take and which ones to leave behind.
Thursday we had an Estate Sale Specialist come to the house, someone who has a great reputation in the area. I walked her through the house, showing her furniture, art and collectibles. She is interested in having a sale to help us dispose of our things. Boy, that would be great if she could.
Friday we needed to get out of the house because the buyers needed to bring in a building inspector into the house. So, we all went down to the local beach.
And, that's when it hit me. It happened as I walked from the car to the Boat Club. I stood on the pavement, looking at the boat slips below, remembering how much fun it was to have a boat when I was little, how much I enjoyed having a boat and how disappointed I was when my father decided to sell ours and not replace it. All of the joys and disappointments and hopes and celebrations and family moments were captured in that moment at the Boat Club. My childhood. Our family. My relationship to my family. Growing up in Darien, with all that that meant. We were closing a chapter -- the best of times, the worst of times, mostly good times. My eyes welled up and I walked on. Keep moving forward, I told myself, and don't look back.
I know that I should be feeling really emotional about the breaking up of our home, about losing a footprint in coastal Connecticut, which has always been home to me, about the passage of a chapter in my life. But, right now, I don't.
I don't have time. There is too much to do.
This week we have accomplished a lot. We got my dad back on his feet and into some personal training, or physical therapy, where he can work on building strength and gaining more flexibility. That was Tuesday.
Wednesday I measured out the size of the rooms in their new home and put string markings on the floor so that mom, dad and I could create furniture arrangements for the rooms in my parent's new home. I moved a lot of furniture. It was so much fun to see what pieces they can take with them and how it will look. We even took pictures. It just felt good to make decisions about what pieces to take and which ones to leave behind.
Thursday we had an Estate Sale Specialist come to the house, someone who has a great reputation in the area. I walked her through the house, showing her furniture, art and collectibles. She is interested in having a sale to help us dispose of our things. Boy, that would be great if she could.
Friday we needed to get out of the house because the buyers needed to bring in a building inspector into the house. So, we all went down to the local beach.
And, that's when it hit me. It happened as I walked from the car to the Boat Club. I stood on the pavement, looking at the boat slips below, remembering how much fun it was to have a boat when I was little, how much I enjoyed having a boat and how disappointed I was when my father decided to sell ours and not replace it. All of the joys and disappointments and hopes and celebrations and family moments were captured in that moment at the Boat Club. My childhood. Our family. My relationship to my family. Growing up in Darien, with all that that meant. We were closing a chapter -- the best of times, the worst of times, mostly good times. My eyes welled up and I walked on. Keep moving forward, I told myself, and don't look back.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
New York State of Mind
I'm flying up to New York to spend Easter with my parents -- and to help them with their upcoming move.
As we fly over the city, I feel a familiar sense, not quite like I'm coming home, but that everything feels familiar; the houses in Queens, the city in the distance, the web of street lights below. It was comforting, and at the same time, I realized it's not my life any more. I wondered, "If I were still living here, what would I do this evening?" I couldn't really imagine what I would do -- and that's when I knew that my life has changed and my center had really shifted.
It's a strange feeling, really. When I'm in South Carolina, I feel that I'm home because that's where my heart is, that's where my love is, and still, the environment feels very strange to me. All around me, the air, the smells, the strange creatures, all of it feels so unfamiliar and I feel discombobulated when I feel at home in a place that feels so alien to me.
I'm home, but it's not home. Do you know what I mean?
As we fly over the city, I feel a familiar sense, not quite like I'm coming home, but that everything feels familiar; the houses in Queens, the city in the distance, the web of street lights below. It was comforting, and at the same time, I realized it's not my life any more. I wondered, "If I were still living here, what would I do this evening?" I couldn't really imagine what I would do -- and that's when I knew that my life has changed and my center had really shifted.
It's a strange feeling, really. When I'm in South Carolina, I feel that I'm home because that's where my heart is, that's where my love is, and still, the environment feels very strange to me. All around me, the air, the smells, the strange creatures, all of it feels so unfamiliar and I feel discombobulated when I feel at home in a place that feels so alien to me.
I'm home, but it's not home. Do you know what I mean?
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