First Day on the Job

I wish I had a picture I could post along with this entry, but alas, there is none. I shall have to try to paint you a picture in words instead, and hope that suffices.

Today was my first day of work at the summer youth program the housing authority does for the kids who live in the projects. I wasn't sure what to expect, since we're actually hired through a government grant and not through the housing authority and they didn't really know any details, but I showed up at their main office this morning bright and early at eight a.m. like I was told. It turns out that the programs doesn't even begin until ten-thirty, so we sat around for awhile waiting for all of the staff to get there, then filled out paperwork for a bit, and then finally headed over to the building that houses the program.

The director of the program (and all youth activities) is a Mr. Robert Nunley, a dignified older black gentleman who nonetheless still wears khaki shorts and tennis shoes and acts as the umpire for the kids' baseball games. As I said, he is older, but hasn't any hint of the middle-age spread that seems to accompany advancing years. The liberal patches of white in his close-cropped beard give away his age, however; it doesn't tarnish his image one bit, though. Rather, it enhances it. He has a no-nonsense attitude that goes along with is appearance, but there's a hint of a sparkle in his eyes that denote a well-developed sense of humor and fun. The latter is completely necessary when working successfully with children.

The kids themselves come in all kinds of shapes and sizes: big and round, little and thin, thin and tall; little and round, white, black, Hispanic. Some have accents so thick it's hard to understand them. Some have cornrows, and some little girls have braids that stick out all over their heads, with groups of beads swinging at the ends. Some don't have any hair at all. All are anxious to show you their drawing or the trick they can do on the trapeze bars, and will tug on your clothes or hands or whatever else is convenient to them until they have your attention and can display said drawing or amazing feat.

The morning was spent out on the playground playing on the jungle gym or at four square (a very popular, and from the comments, very controversial sport with the kids) until the rain drove us inside to do introductions and an impromptu spelling bee. (The last little kid -- a tiny, adorable little black boy with a high, piping voice and the cutest little face ever -- got out with the word "water;" pretty good, considering he's just finished kindergarten.) After lunch (spaghetti, cheese toast, corn, and a lettuce salad), we played on the playground some more until it was time to load up in the vans and head downtown for some martial arts. That was most entertaining to watch...until we got conscripted to be the punching bags for the kids to practice their jabs, crosses, left hooks, and uppercuts. Even that was alright until we had to stand in front of all the kids and do it with them; keep in mind, none of the three of us have ever done anything of that sort before. But we survived, and it was fun. I just need to make a note to myself not to wear jeans again on Mondays. Mondays are martial arts day.