Project K 2008: Hearts for Heartland
On Tuesday, November 11th, I returned to California after spending 6 days in Illinois. I had traveled to Chicago to visit The International Children's Center (ICC), a residential home for young victims of forced immigration. I took with me the 100 quilts that children from Butte County, CA had helped Spirit Quilts sew, during Project K 2008: Hearts for Heartland...
My cousin, Alicia, and my best friend, Marianne, and I arrived at the ICC at 3 in the afternoon on November 7th. Alicia's car was packed to the brim with quilts. We struggled getting the boxes full of quilts inside the Center, and once inside, set about organizing and separating the quilts -- boy quilts vs. girl quilts vs. unisex. Quilts that definitely needed to go to a young child; quilts that teenagers might like. I was so excited to meet the children, but first we met with the Executive Director and the Director of the Center. It was then that we collectively decided to deliver the quilts to the children in their rooms upstairs while they were having "free time." This way each child could pick out his or her own quilt.
We visited the girls' wing first. Many of the girls we met spoke Spanish, and so Marianne, Alicia, and I practiced the few words we knew. Things like, "Hola! Como estas?" and "Como te llama?" and "Cuantos anos tienes?" I remember being extremely nervous walking into the first room. Things raced through my head... things like, "I hope they like me." "I hope they like the quilts." "I hope they are happy we are here." I remember feeling really small... I mean, small as in, what could I possibly offer these children? I haven't been through anything close to what they've experienced. Am I the right person for this job? I hoped the children knew what an honor it was to be there, visiting their home, however temporary it was.
In the last room on the girls' wing, we visited a group of girls from China, and one girl from Pakistan. The young girl from Pakistan spoke perfect English, and I immediately struck up a conversation with her. We talked about her country, and then India (where my family is from). We talked about Islam (which fascinated me, as I am a Religious Studies minor), and we talked about her language, Urdu. I asked her which way Mecca was, and if she had a prayer mat. I asked her to teach me to pray as a Muslim, but she politely declined, saying she was too shy. I wish I could have photographed her face. She was a beautiful young woman, with her hijab revealing the darkest, deepest eyes that had so many questions I wanted to answer.
In that same room, a group of young Chinese women sang to us in their language. When they sang the same song in English, Marianne, Alicia, and I began to cry. The words: "You and me, from one world - we are family." I was reminded of a favorite poem, written by Maya Angelou. It is entitled, "Human Family," and the last few lines repeat this simple truth: "We are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike."
I asked these same girls what they do to stay happy everyday, and their responses were as follows:
"Laugh."
"Eat a lot."
"Singing."
"Sleep."
"Talk to friends."
Now, visiting the boys' wing was chaotic... don't get me wrong, it was fun, but crazy! All of the boys were between the ages of 12 and 17. And they were typical teenage boys. They kept saying how beautiful we were... one boy even asked me for my number. It was so sweet, how could I refuse? (I didn't actually give him my number, if you're wondering; that is against policy). Almost every boy wrote a personal message in a journal I brought to the ICC with me. And one artist gave me an amazing drawing he had made of the Mother of Guadalupe... it is an absolutely stunning drawing, done on a huge piece of poster board with a simple, ordinary pencil.
At 6 pm, we enjoyed dinner with the children. We were shuffled into a large cafeteria and we all found seats at the several tables that filled the room. Right before we were allowed to go up and receive our food, the lights were shut off for a moment of silence, or prayer. Then, we were served a delicious eggplant stir fry with rice, a green salad, green beans, and pecan pie (yup, we got dessert too)... oh yea, and homemade rolls straight out of the oven! One boy who sat with me at my table refused to eat. I asked him what was wrong, and he shared with Alicia and me that he was leaving the following day. The reunification team had done their job -- they had found his family. But Daniel had found a family at the ICC, and was not happy to leave. I met another girl at the ICC - a girl just about to have her quinceanera - who had been at the ICC for 18 months, and like Daniel, did not want to leave.
After dinner, Marianne, Alicia, and I organized some games to play with the kids. I have never heard so much laughter! And I'd never felt more like a kid since the time I packed my bags on Christmas Eve to move to the North Pole with Santa Claus! I had so much fun, mostly because I enjoyed watching the kids have fun. It was then that I was struck by how absolutely resilient these children are. I'd like to think that I touched their lives in some small way, but the truth is, they've touched mine.
My cousin, Alicia, and my best friend, Marianne, and I arrived at the ICC at 3 in the afternoon on November 7th. Alicia's car was packed to the brim with quilts. We struggled getting the boxes full of quilts inside the Center, and once inside, set about organizing and separating the quilts -- boy quilts vs. girl quilts vs. unisex. Quilts that definitely needed to go to a young child; quilts that teenagers might like. I was so excited to meet the children, but first we met with the Executive Director and the Director of the Center. It was then that we collectively decided to deliver the quilts to the children in their rooms upstairs while they were having "free time." This way each child could pick out his or her own quilt.
We visited the girls' wing first. Many of the girls we met spoke Spanish, and so Marianne, Alicia, and I practiced the few words we knew. Things like, "Hola! Como estas?" and "Como te llama?" and "Cuantos anos tienes?" I remember being extremely nervous walking into the first room. Things raced through my head... things like, "I hope they like me." "I hope they like the quilts." "I hope they are happy we are here." I remember feeling really small... I mean, small as in, what could I possibly offer these children? I haven't been through anything close to what they've experienced. Am I the right person for this job? I hoped the children knew what an honor it was to be there, visiting their home, however temporary it was.
In the last room on the girls' wing, we visited a group of girls from China, and one girl from Pakistan. The young girl from Pakistan spoke perfect English, and I immediately struck up a conversation with her. We talked about her country, and then India (where my family is from). We talked about Islam (which fascinated me, as I am a Religious Studies minor), and we talked about her language, Urdu. I asked her which way Mecca was, and if she had a prayer mat. I asked her to teach me to pray as a Muslim, but she politely declined, saying she was too shy. I wish I could have photographed her face. She was a beautiful young woman, with her hijab revealing the darkest, deepest eyes that had so many questions I wanted to answer.
In that same room, a group of young Chinese women sang to us in their language. When they sang the same song in English, Marianne, Alicia, and I began to cry. The words: "You and me, from one world - we are family." I was reminded of a favorite poem, written by Maya Angelou. It is entitled, "Human Family," and the last few lines repeat this simple truth: "We are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike."
I asked these same girls what they do to stay happy everyday, and their responses were as follows:
"Laugh."
"Eat a lot."
"Singing."
"Sleep."
"Talk to friends."
Now, visiting the boys' wing was chaotic... don't get me wrong, it was fun, but crazy! All of the boys were between the ages of 12 and 17. And they were typical teenage boys. They kept saying how beautiful we were... one boy even asked me for my number. It was so sweet, how could I refuse? (I didn't actually give him my number, if you're wondering; that is against policy). Almost every boy wrote a personal message in a journal I brought to the ICC with me. And one artist gave me an amazing drawing he had made of the Mother of Guadalupe... it is an absolutely stunning drawing, done on a huge piece of poster board with a simple, ordinary pencil.
At 6 pm, we enjoyed dinner with the children. We were shuffled into a large cafeteria and we all found seats at the several tables that filled the room. Right before we were allowed to go up and receive our food, the lights were shut off for a moment of silence, or prayer. Then, we were served a delicious eggplant stir fry with rice, a green salad, green beans, and pecan pie (yup, we got dessert too)... oh yea, and homemade rolls straight out of the oven! One boy who sat with me at my table refused to eat. I asked him what was wrong, and he shared with Alicia and me that he was leaving the following day. The reunification team had done their job -- they had found his family. But Daniel had found a family at the ICC, and was not happy to leave. I met another girl at the ICC - a girl just about to have her quinceanera - who had been at the ICC for 18 months, and like Daniel, did not want to leave.
After dinner, Marianne, Alicia, and I organized some games to play with the kids. I have never heard so much laughter! And I'd never felt more like a kid since the time I packed my bags on Christmas Eve to move to the North Pole with Santa Claus! I had so much fun, mostly because I enjoyed watching the kids have fun. It was then that I was struck by how absolutely resilient these children are. I'd like to think that I touched their lives in some small way, but the truth is, they've touched mine.
posted by JayaMae Gregory
2 Comments:
Great post! Keep them coming.
Thanks for inviting me to the site. Really informative.
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