Americorps Assignment: "Great Stories"

The next leg of my adventure is unfolding as a year serving with AmeriCorps. I am now almost four months into my term serving at a community health center in Seattle, essentially telling little old Chinese women how to navigate the healthcare system. It's been extremely rewarding, extremely challenging, and extremely fun.

Part of my requirements as an AmeriCorps, Community HealthCorps member is to report a "Great Story" every month (I've only done one so far. oops), so the bigwigs in Washington who fund my program can look at the good work I've been done with more than just numbers (which I am also horrible at reporting. bleh.) I thought I would share with the general interwebs my latest (and only) "Great Story."

I spend a lot of my case management days calling hospital billing centers, so I was really looking forward to handling a case in which I needed to get a low-income single mother some baby and toddler supplies. Our clinic has a partnership with a local organization that distributes free supplies such as toys, diapers, clothes, etc. through providers, so I already knew I could get her some items for free. I also knew there were other programs out there that she could access herself, so I did some research ahead of time and scheduled her an appt. to talk to me. I was so eager to present to her all the resources that she could use, I stayed through my lunch break when she came in late due to car trouble. While I was talking to her, she told me about how she wanted to enrolled her rambunctious toddler into some active programs to give him an outlet for his energy, and I looked up various community centers and organizations that I knew had discounted or free programs. When I told her that she could go to the Salvation Army for help, she asked me, “What’s the Salvation Army?” It then struck me how privileged I have been to have known about so many programs that I could access if I needed help. Having access to the internet has exposed me to many different resources in my community, and it definitely felt great to share them with someone who could really use the help.

Where Did I Put Those Big Girl Pants?

This is about the time of year when people reflect on their life and look forward to the future, right?

I tend to purge out my thoughts via interwebs when I feel like I need to put something out there, and usually, it's been something negative or confusing that I need to work out, so maybe the odd, diligent reader will notice that I haven't really posted anything lately.  The reasons are two-fold: 1) I have been so, goddamn busy, and 2) I am actually really content and happy right now. 

So why the blog post now?

To be honest, a train of thought was sparked by having lunch with a few friends from high school today, and I'm so happy about the warm, fuzzy feelings that came from it, I just gotta share. Two of these friends are now engaged, and my immediate (sister-trained) gut reaction was to say EW. MARRIAGE. WEIRDOS.

But then I realized that it actually isn't that weird to me anymore. It's same argument why gay marriage shouldn't bother people: It's not like they're forcing you to get one too. I'll be honest, My name is Janni Sun, and I think I'm always right (even when I'm not). Usually, I have some sort of opinion about what's the right course of action. But when my sister heard about my friends' engagements and immediately said, "It's a mistake," I knew I disagreed with her. Because maybe it would be a mistake for her (definitely would for me), but maybe these guys are set. Maybe these crazy kids know what they want, so why should they wait to be with the people that make them happy and potentially will for the rest of their lives? Who are we to say what's right for them? What the hell do we know?

This crazy, emotional year has definitely helped me accept the "Guuuurl, you do you" attitude where I can step back and say "I sure as hell wouldn't do it, but hey, if you can do it, not be an asshole, and be happy, sure, screw it, onward, brave soldier!"

And I've learned to apply that attitude to myself more, to stop beating myself up for making the "stupid" mistakes and putting myself in the position to get hurt or look dumb. Because sometimes it's not a "mistake," but just the thing you chose to do at the time, for better or worse, because of reasons good or bad. Because even after all the crap and the angst, I muddled through somehow to this point, and damn, I'm pretty okay with myself. I made some poor choices, I have some regrets, I miss some people, I still hurt about some things and still don't understand a few things, but I sleep at night just fine. I won't let the fear of getting hurt stop me from being myself, with my heart on my sleeve for all to poke at.

I tend to associate too much meaning with and overthink my choices, like "If I choose to do this, then that means I do/am that. I must do/be that."

But now I know I really don't. I don't have to do/be anything I don't want to do/be. And my choices can mean whatever I want them to mean to me. And I can change my mind whenever I want.

For instance, I've been thinking of moving to Portland after graduation for a while now, and I'm hoping to join Americorps to really get hands-on and experience how difficult it is to try to make the world a better place and still remain optimistic. But this time around, I'm also committing to idea of the boyfriend coming with me. I've sworn off indefinite long-distance relationships for good, so if I want him to continue to be in my life after graduation (and I really do), that means being in the same city and for money-saving, practical reasons, moving in together. And yes, it's fricking crazy. We've only been dating for a few months, I don't know where I'm gonna be a year from now, things may fall apart, yada yada.

But the scariest thing to me has been "what it all means." Does this mean I'm settling? Does this mean he's settling? Am I making him settle? Am I still gonna travel? What am I committing to? Who am I committing to? Does he really know what he's getting into? Do I? What about after? Does he think I want to marry him? Do I? Do I even want to get married?

Stop.

Because what it REALLY means is that I want him to be in my life, and since neither he nor I have really specific places we have to be or very specific plans, we can decide to be in the same place. And since I trust him to be civil and reasonable even if we don't stay together, I'm not too worried. I now know that this choice doesn't have mean that we're two sappy, naive kids in love and we're gonna skip off in the sunset. I don't have to look at this as a "dumb mistake."

Because all it means is that we'll find jobs that may not be the best but pay the rent, take turns cooking dinner, watch Doctor Who on the couch together, and have the most awesome dog. And that sounds like happiness to me.

So congratulations, Cameron and Zane, I wish you guys all the best! May all the naysayers be delightfully proven wrong. And may 2014 be the year when we all get rid of the notion of "mistakes"and just live and let live.

"There is nothing like returning to place that remains unchanged to find ways in which you yourself have altered" ~Nelson Mandela, 1918-2013, Hamba Kahle Madiba.

This Goodbye Town

I have been in Spokane for seven months now. I now understand why the people who had taken a semester off at home said, "Oh man, taking a leave of absence? Let me know if you need to talk."

There really is something to be said about this surreal period of time because no, Kid After Dentist, this is not real life. At least, my personal experience wasn't. I could get lost in all the negative things that happened, all the things I don't understand, but everything happens for a reason, and I'm going to focus on what I've learned and what has changed me for the better.

I'd like to think that I am a nonjudgmental person. I have my own opinions, but I try to respect other people's choices, even if it doesn't seem like I am. Honestly. I swear! Seriously, guys! But, I have usually been in a "position to judge" since I am a chronic over-achiever. School, adventure, fun times... I was never the type to sit back and just kinda let life happen. I'm a go-getter. Proactive. Obnoxious. Whatever you may call it. That being said, I have judged myself a lot these past few months. I always swore to get out of this place, get out of my parent's house ASAP, be as financially independent as possible. I worked multiple jobs my freshman year and was so proud to never have asked home for money. Now, here I was at home, using my dad's money, stuck in my nostalgia, being generally unproductive, and underachieving. I had plenty of reasons why I was in my situation, but I'm still trying to decide which were reasons and which were excuses.

I've felt a little bit of this judgment from my peers as well. Some of it came as concern, some as doubt, some as skepticism, a majority was well-intentioned, but I could sense the undertone of "What are you doing here? Why are you wasting your time?"And it stung because my answer was "I have no frickin' clue. I am unhappy. I am not being myself. I should be doing something about that." But what I kept saying was "My mom is sick, I'm taking care of her,"because no one really can argue with that. Again, I'm still trying to decide how much of that actually affected my decision-making process.

I felt like I needed to logically, productively, constantly legitimize that I was stuck physically, emotionally, mentally. Having felt that kind of judgment, I would really like to never be responsible for making someone else feel like they need to give a reason for not being in the best place. Because sometimes you are just temporarily paralyzed. And after a year of moving really fast, experiencing big events, leaping first then looking later, sometimes it's nice to be stuck, to have an excuse to slow down. Like way down. Okay, maybe there was a little backward movement on my part.

I'm a big believer in managing your own destiny, but sometimes, life puts you on your ass or flat on your face, and it takes a bit to get your bearings again before you can stand up and move on. Of course, the important thing is to take the reins as soon as you can and charge forward, a little sore but wiser (mixed metaphors ftw). But even when I was ready to travel on, I didn't really have anywhere to go yet, so I was in a multiple month layover to get on a different flight (another one! I am on a roll!).

ANYWAY

I'm excited to get back to my real life. I mean, I'm not going to instantaneously forget the connections I've made this past year because they were meaningful and I owe them a lot, but as far as I'm concerned, Spokane is a "goodbye town" now. There's really nothing to keep drawing me back here (unfortunately?), so it's time for this merry wanderer to pull up her boots and keep marching. I can't wait.

Confessions from a Grocery Snob

My name is Janni Sun, and I am a Pretentious Grocery Shopper. 

When I'm perusing the produce section, inspecting the items, I occasionally sense the poor store employee stocking the celery turning toward me to give the customary "How are you finding everything today?" only to change their mind and instead avoid eye contact. Do I look like a street hoodlum? Violent thug? Perhaps. I did just recently chop off most of my hair. No, it's more likely that I am in GROCERY BITCH MODE.

Sometimes, I catch myself in an an expression best described as:

faire la moue [French]: to slightly pout one's lips to express discontent. (sometimes shortened to "moue")

Like so.

I believe I was introduced to this phrase by Celine, the French exchange student at Rhodes, a fabulous, gorgeous, Parisian that perfected the look that says, "Well, that's... well."

I can't help it. Since my shopping-cart-sitting days, my father, the agriculturist, has been imparting the secrets of selecting the best food:

"If the stem or pip is still there, that means it's fresh."
"Look for the one that is more round on the end, that means it ripened on the vine."
"Check the bottom. Look at the edges. It's not in season."

I try to apply all of these tasty wisdom nuggets, but unfortunately the side effect is that I deliberate twice as long as the average shopper with this "moue" on my face, evoking thunderclouds and probably scaring small children. I will tap every 15 lb. watermelon until I find one that resonates perfect crispiness. I'll rake through the beans and only select the most tender and fresh. Each peach must be checked for the stem and tested for firmness before I select it. I am that girl.

So I apologize to anyone who runs into me at the grocery store. I promise I'm not judging you, just the freshness of this tomato.

Thunderstorms

A year and a few days ago, there was a thunderstorm just like the one that is happening tonight in my home skies. The sky lit up with violet webs of lightning that danced through the clouds. Big, fat raindrops poured out of the sky and quickly soaked the hot pavement and anyone standing outside.

It was my last night home. The next day, I was getting on a plane that would lead me to New York for the night and then to South Africa the day after; I was about to embark on my most epic adventure to date.

And I was miserable. My dad decided to pick huge fight with me. My mother was sick and going to have major surgery in the morning. We didn't know whether the giant mass in one of her failing kidneys was cancer or not. I still hadn't packed. After a stressful couple of months of taking care of her all by myself, all I wanted was to spend one last night with him, but my dad didn't approve. He was angry. I was hysterical.

I don't know what I would've done if he hadn't offered to throw all of my unpacked stuff in his truck (we had to move it inside our respective cars as the rain kept pouring down) and let me cry and pack and repack at his house. If his mother hadn't quietly given her approval as she saw my puffy red eyes and sopping clothes while I sniffled out apologies and words of gratitude. If I hadn't spent the past few weeks sleeping on his couch so I wouldn't have to go back to my empty house after working for eight hours then seeing my mother in the hospital. If his mother hadn't let me cook dinner with her night after night and talk about simple things like vegetables and flowers and the best way to prepare fish. If he hadn't had been the last thing I saw after I packed all the stupid clothes that I wouldn't need into my giant bags and passed out for a couple hours in the heat of Mid-July. If he hadn't said goodbye when he left for work early that morning and then let me sleep for a couple more hours.

A year ago, I started the most amazing experience of my life. But I'll never forget the crashing thunder and blinding lightning through my tear-blurred vision of the worst night of my life that started it. And I will never forget the love that got me through it.