PART 1
Two weeks later and I am finally ready to sit down and start writing this and I probably won’t finish for another month or two. I’m quick, but when it comes to true reflection, I strive to avoid haste. As a community service trip, reflection was the nightly status-quo. As I sat there, sharing what the best and worst parts of my day were or how my perspective changed, I couldn’t help but realize that the thoughts I shared merely brushed the surface. I knew by the third night that I wanted to wait a little, let it all simmer together, and once I figured out what the big picture was and could turn my dinky daily dilemmas into concrete, and hopefully actionable ideas.
The Basics
Let me back up for a moment for those of you who are a little lost or are unaware of how I spent my spring break. BU has a program called “Alternative Spring Break” — ASB for short. ASB sends out ~40 trips across the country (and Puerto Rico) to spend the week serving various communities, each trip with a different focus. I signed up to go on the trip to Missoula, Montana. Issue area: Hunger. I was hyped to say the least. I hadn’t been on a real service trip since 2009. On top of getting to work in food banks and pantries across western Montana, hiking and hot springs were also on the itinerary. What more could I ask for? I swear my camera was shaking with excitement just as much as I was. I had been to Montana before. I spent a week in Big Timber in 2006 with my family working on a family friend’s cattle ranch. But I was young then and not into photography. The chance to revisit this beautiful state with my 5D in hand was ideal — how could I pass up that opportunity? On top of that, the chance to feed the hungry is one I won’t ever pass up. My parents constantly tell me that when I was a little kid I would cry whenever we went into the city. I couldn’t stand that there were hungry people on the street. And at the time, barely able to walk by myself, there wasn’t much I could do about it. Since then, the attachment to the cause has stuck with me and my passion has only grown. Working in food banks can be boring compared to working at say — a preschool or a zoo, but someone’s gotta do it.
Truth be told, I was a little apprehensive to spend an entire week in food banks. I’d worked in a range of food banks in multiple states and was well aware that sorting and packaging is a big part of the job. Rather monotonous at times. With a group of strangers, who knew what I could be walking into. All it takes is one negative attitude in a group like that to ruin the experience for everyone, and those are easy to come by. Thankfully, I was blessed with a group of 12 other BU students with homologous passion and positivity. The days were long and the amount of weight we lifted was large, but I only realize that in retrospect. Each day flew by, and I am thankful that the company I kept was so wonderful. Whether we were blasting the same six songs playing on Montana Radio (I swear if I hear “Right There” by Nicole Scherzinger in the next few years, I might just collapse on the spot) or talking about nothing or talking about everything, our acute awareness of the impact we were making was a drive for the entire group.
I went into this trip with some expectations but with really no idea what it would be like. I knew I’d meet people from my school who I may not have met otherwise, I knew I’d make some kind of positive impact, and I knew that I would be stepping outside of my comfort zone and would therefore find some sort of personal growth or understanding. But there were many variables in the mix to make me apprehensive about going on this trip alone. However, a realistic understanding that I would only be away for 8 days was enough to quell my nerves.
My First Realization
After acclimating a bit to the altitude, hiking to the Weir Hot Springs in Idaho, getting to know each other a little bit better, and a night of (minimal) sleep, we made our way to the main distribution center for the Montana Food Bank Network for our first day of service. Our group was split into two, one group going to pack mail-a-meal boxes and the other going to the packaging room to package the massive boxes of rice krispies/pastas/rice etc. into serving-sized bags. The day seemed to fly by as we challenged ourselves to figure out the most efficient way to package the 10,600 lbs. of mail-a-meal boxes we and did, as well as chattering through packaging even more weight in cereal and penne. In packaging penne, I had the most important epiphany about the work that we were doing.
We were told to fill the bags with a specific weight, but that it was fine if it was off by a little in either direction. As I filled the plastic bag with a few scoops of penne, I was under by .05 ounces. In the interest in filling the first bag JUST RIGHT; I added a few pieces of penne until it was perfect.
It dawned on me in that moment as I poured four or five extra pieces of penne into the bag. My mind immediately traveled to the dinner table where that pasta would end up. On the fork of a small child. It was at least two bites. Then I thought about the process I was going through to fill the bags. I realized it would be a mistake to make this bagging process machine-like. Unlike other forms of service, working in a food bank can be removed from seeing the impact and therefore less rewarding. (Not to say that the incredible people of the Montana Food Bank Network do that… they are amazing. Don’t get it twisted.) Putting the work from the warehouse was vital to my enthusiasm and passion for the rest of the week and most likely for the rest of my life. Upon deeper reflection, I realized that it was only natural for my brain to immediately think that way — it’s what I believe in. Day one of service down, four left. With this thought in the back of my mind, there was no way that the remainder of the week wouldn’t be anything but a great experience.
wolfandafish 