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Tag: training

Stories & Evals from Belize

It took me forever to be able to post this stuff, because I had to get permission from kids, parents, supervisors, etc… identifying information has been changed, details have been switched around, but you’ll get the idea.

Most of the kids we worked with were survivors of some kind of violent crime, usually within the household. Beginning in the second month, I spent half my time training shelter staff, teachers, and my supervisor how to facilitate coping exercises with these kids, and the other half of my time doing actual clinical work with them.

Like mentioned in previous posts, my supervisor was welcoming and eager to learn from me as much as I was hoping to learn from her. We were able to trade knowledge and skills—she taught me about family therapy and cultural differences in Belize, autism, schizophrenia and behavioral issues, and I taught her everything I knew about PTSD and short-term grief and trauma programming.

About a month ago, the kids really started to open up and grasp the skills we were trying to teach them, and it was encouraging to see them progress. But at the same time it was sad to know that termination (for me, at least) was just around the corner, and that A would take over from there. We worked hard at making the transition to A seamless and positive, so I’m sure the kids will continue to grow, and A is happy to implement this specific model. A has had a hard time, though, convincing the Ministry of Ed that it’s important to address the trauma as a precursor to fixing the behavior issues. (Duh, Ministry.)

There are about 50 unbelievable stories I could tell, but they involve things like stabbings and decapitations and really sad kids. So I’ll just give you one really positive one. There were two little boys I was seeing separately, but they were in the same class. Both had been through the program about a year apart, but didn’t know it. They were in trouble for fighting in class. What I didn’t know was that they were fighting with each other, and worse—for talking about each other’s mothers! When the teacher told me this, I asked the boys if they wanted to have a session together (which wasn’t unusual—sometimes I saw the kids in groups—and they agreed). When we started playing the thoughts and feelings game, they found out they had a lot in common. Every time one of the kids answered a questions, the other would say: Hey, I’m the oldest too… I have sisters too… my dad was like that too… me too! Me too! Me too! Playing dumb, I said, “Wow. You guys seem like you could be really good friends! You really have a lot in common…” Throughout the session, they physically got closer and closer together, and by the end of the group, they had their arms around each other. Before they left, I said, “I really want you two to look out for each other. If you see someone trying to fight with your friend, stand up for him—okay?” They nodded and walked off side-by-side. Every week thereafter they asked if they could have their sessions together, and the teacher told me they have been inseparable every since. I asked if I could share their picture as new friends, and they happily agreed:

Teacher workshop in Santa Elena

Just to keep things real, when I was trying to write this last post, I’d already left the village (I’m in Dallas now, after spending a week in San Pedro with my Dad & Kathy), and I just felt like I had nothing to report. I had read everyone’s international posts and felt like my cultural experiences, organizational challenges, work-related activities, new skills and lessons learned were just less impactful and shiny as everyone else’s. I actually said, the other night, when Jeff asked what was wrong: “Kim’s cooler”.

He asked if it was because of her gold medal, but I told him it was because she was doing AIDS stuff in Kenya, and Karen was interviewing child heads of households in Rwanda, and everyone’s work was just so international, really important and meaningful in the big picture. My niche was small, and the impact was limited to this little village in this tiny country. (But I actually re-read Karen’s post and caught the part about her feeling lackluster and tedius…)

I think I’m just emotional about leaving and evaluating. Its hard when things end, even if good things are coming.

At the very least, I finally developed a macro interest when I realized you can address issues forever at the individual level or you could go after the origin on a community level. I think I’ve walked away with a new (renewed) interest in public health and development, which I came to Tulane with but hadn’t really understood. We’ll see what happens.

For more pics on life and work in San Ignacio, click here

For pics of goodbye parties & time in San Pedro, click here

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Posted on November 23, 2009July 23, 2013Categories BelizeTags coping, domestic violence, grad school, grief and trauma, international social work, kids, resilience, social work, training, violence2 Comments on Stories & Evals from Belize

Being a tourist in my own city…

So. Things have been kind of busy and spectacular lately. Last last week, Dr. G came from the States to meet my supervisor and do a site visit. She was able to sit down with A and the Mary Open Doors founders, a couple of volunteers, Antonia and the fam, and visit both Faith Nazarene and Santa Familia schools. She also went to PG for a day to find out about possible internship possibilities in the south. Everything went really well, and I think both sides (Tulane & Belize) are excited about the potential internship placements here in the future, which I will henceforth refer to as My Legacy.

We also finally managed to pull off my first training with the staff and volunteers at Mary Open Doors last Tuesday. We’ve been trying to arrange this for 5 weeks, and even though it was an hour late, it happened. Even a client from Mary Open doors sat in on the training and asked if she could come back next week to participate in the therapeutic activities, which I had just thrown in for good measure. I was trying to demonstrate how the program feels to the kids, but everyone accidentally got a lot out of it.

Also, I had a beautiful moment with an 8 year old who hadn’t wanted to participate in the program at all to begin with—she has been very depressed and withdrawn—but she agreed to one session, which I disguised as “art activities” and “games” and “little stories”. At the end of the session, she said she would come to one more session, but no more. At the end of that session, she agreed to one more session, but that’s all. At some point, she started asking which day I was coming back, and would I bring play-dough next time, and can she use the orange pencil case next time instead of the pink one, and can she bring a picture of her dad to show me how their teeth are alike, and could I bring gummy bears instead of chips, and do I want to come to her cousin’s party this weekend? It’s been fun to watch her grow and smile and play and open up a little, and I already feel anxious about starting the termination process. Lucky for all of us, my supervisor A has been involved in these cases from the beginning and will be taking them over after I leave. She’s incredibly competent and caring and I trust that the kids are in good hands entirely. Con permission:

kids

Also… smile… J came to visit. Inez gave up her room for a couple of nights, Antonia and Ricardo and Antonia’s parents welcomed him and then grilled him do death for incriminating information about me, the Chinchilla family took him canoeing and then drove us all to Spanish Lookout in the back of the pick-up truck for ice cream. We also walked up to Mr. Neil’s house, the tallest hill in the village, and Mr. Neil invited us in for a coke on his deck, which has the most spectacular views of San Ignacio.

After a weekend in the village we went to Cahal Pech (a village resort in San Ignacio) and spent a couple of days in town, and also lots of time on the cabana hammock. I introduced him to one of the founders at Mary Open Doors and went on a little walking tour of my day-to-day routine between the office and the school and the Ministry and the French Bakery and the juice guy and the bus stop, and all the other little places I like to eat and shop and check e-mail and sit. We also got to join a trip to Tikal, this old Mayan city outside of Flores, Guatemala. It has over 4,000 structures, including the tallest one in the Mayan world, and more are still being excavated. We saw howler monkeys (which sound like a horrifying combination of chainsaws and dinosaurs) and spider monkeys and toucans and one snake, all in the wild. We had our own private tour of the grounds by a really interesting guide, and I’m still not sure how that happened, but it was great. Mayan Ruins aren’t even my most exciting to-do list items, but I’ve always wanted to see Tikal, and the views and history were amazing.

After a few days in Cayo, we headed to Caye Caulker and, thanks to Hugo, got a free stop at the zoo and lunch at Old Belize. The important thing to know here is we saw jaguars and ate Pirate nachos.

We arrived at Caye Caulker via water taxi just in time for a panoramic view of the island at sunset, from the very top of our discounted low-season gorgeous hotel/condo, which was still being renovated since it just opened in July and tourist season doesn’t start until November. In all the times I’ve been to Belize, I’ve never gone on vacation. But THIS was one of the most spectacular places I’ve ever stayed, and we found it on accident! Two days before we arrived! And it was cheaper than the cheapest Holiday Inn Express! We had the building to ourselves, a sea-facing balcony with a hammock at sunrise, a sunset-facing bedroom over the other side of the island, and a rooftop Jacuzzi with a panoramic view of everything. Also, because it’s still slow season, the island was quiet and calm and sleepy and peaceful. Only a handful of places were open for business and the only sound we heard was an occasional golf cart, water lapping and some island music. It was a perfect recharge. With perfect company. And good food. (Except the cereal we bought from 2007. That was gross).

hammock roofswimming

This week I’m back to the real world. Trying to finish papers, find a job, counsel kids, train volunteers, and begin the process of leaving… one month and I’m home to graduate. Weird.

More pics of San Ignacio: here

More pics of Caye Caulker: here

More pics of Tikal: here

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Posted on October 26, 2009July 23, 2013Categories BelizeTags caye caulker, cayo, guatemala, international social work, internship, island, kids, social work, sunset, tikal, training, zooLeave a comment on Being a tourist in my own city…
Snacks Facilitate Anything and Everything

Snacks Facilitate Anything and Everything

I’m kind of embarrassed to admit this, but I guess its part of the process, so I’ll disclose. Honesty and growth, make way. I’m coming.

I spent all morning looking at my classmates’ pictures from India feeling jealous and regretful. There are mountains there, and silk, and friends. Now most of them are back in New Orleans finishing out an easy last semester at places like The Rue and Superior Grill, which sound like heaven to me right now… and I’m still here. In Belize. Again. Still. (I know, I know—Belize? You feel real sorry for me. You know I’m not on the coast, right? I’m in the jungle.)

While familiarity makes things easy and comfortable here, it also takes the new and exciting back to ordinary and routine. The exotic fruits aren’t so exotic—although, coincidentally, I did just eat a guava for the first time today. Rice and beans are just rice and beans, not: Rice and Beans! Cattle stop and stare at me when I hang my laundry. I walk past iguanas and step over roosters and make tortillas and wait for electricity and stockpile water, and never ever wash my underwear with my socks, and brush ants off my bed and eat mangoes and catch parasites and hail bus drivers and sit on stoops and walk up and down giant hills from school to school for work like its nothing. Like those things are normal. If you know me, this isn’t me! My specialty is finding extraordinary things in every day life—unless you’re that crazy life-changing story lady. If you’re her, then, no, you’re right, I suck.

Anyway. India would have been new and exciting. And besides that, I don’t think I was ready to be done with New Orleans yet. When I return, graduation will happen and this part of my life will be over. Why did I decide to spend the last half of it in another country? The work I was doing in New Orleans was good and meaningful, and Belize is always gonna be Belize. Here my work seems like a drop in the bucket. Then I started wondering: why did I think these kids deserved this program more than the kids in New Orleans in the first place? Is it just because they live here and not there? Kids are kids. Need is need. Was I being selfish in wanting to do this? I could have stayed in New Orleans, gone to India for a month, learned a bunch of new things about a new culture, and then continued to help kids in the exact same way I had been, right there. Did I waste this whole semester on something I’ve already done, that doesn’t even really matter in the big picture, when my heart really was in New Orleans all along?

I don’t know. But because I am a social worker, I have been knocked over the head with a variety of coping skills. I told myself there has to be a reason I’m here, and that I just have to trust God is doing something, somewhere, outside my view—that I may never even get to see. Maybe it’s the family I’m paying $100 per week to stay with. Maybe they were having a desperate time with finances, and I was their secret answer to prayer or something. Or maybe there is one specific kid who really needed something this program offers, and for that one kid, all of this will be worth it. Maybe Mary Open Doors or my supervisor were overwhelmed and overworked and kind of just wanted a person to have a Sprite with at lunch to recharge. Who knows, but I decided to be okay with everything because a bad attitude would be like poison, and deciding that there is still purpose for me here even if there’s not makes me feel better. Plus, there was that really undeniable string of events that happened in November… Everyone said: write this down, Brooke. There will be a time in Belize when you say: What am I doing here? and this story will be your proof. Hmm.

BUT.

Then I met the actual kids. Real-life little kids, shy and hyper and adorable and desperate: an 8-year-old whose dad committed suicide last year, four elementary kids whose dad tattooed his own birthmark on their faces, a 7-year-old who saw a knife fight between his mom and grandpa, a 15-year-old who dropped out of school after his friend committed suicide.

It’s like my heart recognized something my brain couldn’t catch up to. In New Orleans, there is a waiting list, a protocol, a budget and a set number of counselors. The same number of kids would have been seen with or without me in 3 months. But in Belize, there is only one school counselor. One school counselor for the entire country. The 7 kids I saw today and yesterday wouldn’t have even been on the radar had Mary Open Doors not said- Brooke, these kids really need help, and had I not said- A, these kids really need help, and had there not been this ready-made program for their exact need. The school system has to focus primarily on behavioral problems in the classroom. There’s no time or manpower to waste on things like grief or trauma—even though the result of those things is behavioral problems in the classroom… but social work isn’t even a legitimate field yet. There are no standards, no associations, no practices, no codes, nothing. My supervisor keeps records for the Ministry of Education only because she wants to and because that’s how she was trained in the States. She has to constantly fight for confidentiality. She makes however many appointments per day she thinks she can fit in, and transportation is always an issue. No one has cars. The Ministry does not reimburse. She covers a hundred square miles, and we walk or take the bus or taxi on our dime. I see kids at 3 schools, and spend half my day walking up and down hills to get there. If she does home visits, she stays for a couple of hours because she knows it could be a couple of weeks before she gets there again. Her caseload is about 50 students. Every time she goes to a new school, she gets another list of 10-15 students she knows she may not even be able to see. Sigh. And yet she gives her absolute best to each family I’ve seen her with…

One thing I feel good about in this realm is that we’ll use the coping skills program I brought to train a team of 6 teachers in Santa Elena to respond to their kids, in addition to training the shelter workers. Maybe those 6 can feed 5,000…

Anyway. Some funny similarities between the kids in NOLA and the kids here—

  • No kid wants to miss computer lab
  • Every kid asks for a quarter
  • Schools never have space, and finding space with privacy is next to impossible
  • The schedule changes every day
  • Other kids walk by, stop, and ask if they can come too
  • Snacks facilitate anything and everything

In short long: I still really want to go to India. And I still miss my friends. And I still miss my little apartment and margaritas in New Orleans. But I trust that something here is happening outside my control, and I’ll gladly pour as many drops as I can into this bucket in the tiny amount of time I have here. Thank you for contributing to this trip if you did, and for believing in the project. I spent all these months convincing you guys this was important and almost completely lost sight of it myself. It turns out grass is everywhere, greener than ever…

So there you have it. The good, the bad and the ugly.

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Posted on October 5, 2009July 23, 2013Categories BelizeTags coping, counseling, growth, honesty, international social work, internship, kids, social work, training12 Comments on Snacks Facilitate Anything and Everything
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