A Sad Day in the Annals of Archer...
 
 
We decided to close down the summer camp. I feel like a failure. Because it hurts too bad to talk about it, I will put it off until tomorrow. All I have to say is that my only volunteer was moving to Costa Rica on Friday and it would be me, alone, with over 20 kids. And that yesterday I had to grab a kid who is twice my size by the collar and throw him backwards to prevent him from pummeling a ten-year old to pieces. And that he rushed the door again and I had to stop him a second time--while holding Issac in my arms. Meanwhile the different gangs were running around talking about busting each other up while Hank was scrambling to shut the doors and get everyone out.  It was our second riot and it was scary. Obviously, we were not prepared to deal with these kinds of problems. Preparation is not one of my best qualities. I'm a much better improviser. There lies the problem.
 
But how does anyone begin to know how to prepare for these kids?  I'm realizing that the slacker sounding position of "camp director" requires volumes of skill and knowledge. I think I was underqualified. Though to be fair to myself, my hands were tied involving any planning of the camp until the day I was hired, which was four days after the camp had already begun. Not the best administrative techinque on the city's part either. I guess I shouldn't beat myself up.
 
My boss told me to "hang on" until the end of the week and that he would get me more help on Monday. What kind of help?  Will he finally deliver the volunteers that I've been asking for all summer? They need to be trained--I need to know I can count on them. So often, the volunteers have been nothing more than a sophisticated, different group of "kids" needing my constant attention--almost more of a hindrance than a help. I told him I thought it would be negligent on his part to continue this program without the foundation of a more organized structure, more qualified staff, and better preparation. I told him the situation was simply unsafe and beyond our control at this point. He sighed and said "fine."
 
I don't like being a quitter. I've felt sort of sick and uneasy all day.
 
Then I watched Spirit of the Cimarron, which is about this wild horse with an unconquerable spirit who refuses to give up, and it brought me to tears.
 
I keep wondering if I made the right choice, if I should have continued to "hang on" and "ride it out." But then I remember R--, the boy who has been getting beat up lately at camp, and the pain in his eyes when he shouted at me, pleading for protection: "You're a bad teacher Ms. Melissa! You need to watch what they are doing to me!" and the realization I had that I can't. We're simply stretched too thin. And we don't have a plan other than to deal with what gets thrown at us each day. We are like baby seaturtles who had this simple, beautiful vision to crawl toward the light, and on our way we were run over by trucks and pecked apart by seagulls--we did not expect it, but that did not prevent it from happening.
 
I once heard that when you are faced with a difficult decision, you usually have two choices. The best choice is often the one that feels the most difficult. Ending this camp is so difficult. It was my personal reflection, my vision. Worst of all, I feel like I am letting the kids down and I feel like a sissy.
 
I suppose, in a meagre attempt to salvage some self-esteem,  I can eek out a small feeling of responsibility from ending the camp. Sometimes you just have to do the right thing and admit your irresponsibility, hard as it may be. Funny how admitting irresponsibility can be a responsible thing to do. I refuse to let something bad happen to a kid simply because I had too much pride to know when to admit defeat. 

Sigh.

My other work with the leadership training continues on indefinitely.
 
"A successful teacher needs: the education of a college president, the executive ability of a financier, the humility of a deacon, the adaptability of a chameleon, the hope of an optimist, the courage of a hero, the wisdom of a serpent, the gentleness of a dove, the patience of Job, the grace of God, and the persistence of the devil."--Anonymous
 
"A teacher's day is half bureaucracy, half crisis, half monotony, and 1/80th epiphany. Nevermind the arithmetic."--Susan Ohanian
 
"The things which hurt, instruct." --Benjamin Franklin