When I left BostonWarm today, I had the familiar feeling of shame because I “didn’t do enough.” I feel this way a lot, leaving class, leaving work, leaving internship—I consistently feel like I didn’t do enough.
Musings from the Margins
Awkward Conversations
Last week I’d thought I’d made a mistake. I admitted to it in the first draft of this musing, in class, to my supervisor. I was really trying to own up to my perceived wrongdoing and showcase my newfound fondness for “learning through mistakes.” The thing is, the more people I spoke to, the more I realized that maybe it wasn’t a mistake after all; maybe it was a difficult conversation that felt like a mistake to me because of the tension and awkwardness I felt inside.
Looking into Hesitancy
Last week I pitched my idea for a drama performance during common art’s community leadership meeting, and there was indeed some interest. The initial meeting group was relatively small, but we picked up more volunteers throughout the day. I’m confident that interest will grow with time. We discussed themes for the show and decided on “life on the streets,” to be interpreted however the writer or performer desires. This theme was suggested to me by my aforementioned advisor, who’d facilitated drama-therapy performances with those experiencing homelessness in New York. To be honest, I had voiced to him my hesitancy to propose this theme. He suggested that I might want to explore my hesitancy and that it would be worthwhile looking into the theme.
It’s not always easy to take a good look inside yourself and see where your resistance exactly lies. I found that I was reluctant to bring up the subject of “life on the streets” because I didn’t want to come across as pandering or patronizing. Especially considering the privileges that I’ve been afforded, I didn’t want to suggest a performance that might exploit the suffering of others. Having investigated my motives, I came to the conclusion that exploring the theme of “life on the streets” was worthwhile, and that it would be selfish for me to refrain from proposing this theme just because it made me uncomfortable. Life on the streets is full of challenges that I would never be able to predict. It would be a disservice to deny people the chance to represent the realities of their lives.
-Amanda Ludeking
And we’re back!
There’s something especially difficult about shaking the cobwebs from my brain and returning to second semester. It feels like all the momentum I built up last semester has collapsed in a heap of hot cocoa and sleeping in, made all that much worse by my two cats, who plop themselves down on my lap just as it’s time to be productive again. I felt an odd sort of anxiousness going back into my first day at BostonWarm after break, a sort of dread that asked, “What if this internship isn’t like it was before?”
Crisis Intervention
I’ve had my challenges during my months at common cathedral. Boundaries, as I’ve mentioned, have caused some growing pains, as has facing the fact that I must make mistakes in order to learn. Last week I felt a sort of charged frustration when I encountered someone in crisis and I felt unable to help them because of my role as intern. My instincts told me that I could effectively jump in to crisis intervention mode. The rules of my internship told me otherwise. Logically I understood why—I don’t have the proper training, for one, and I’d be crossing some boundaries established to protect community members, interns, staff, and the common art program. It also may set a precedent that I can’t keep up with—for this individual and for other community members. Still, I felt helpless and angry.
Talent Show
Two weeks ago, I wrote about my “silliness” skill and my ability to make others feel comfortable being goofballs. Then I spoke to a friend of mine who also has this skill. From her perspective, the skill isn’t just about making others feel comfortable being playful, but also about making others feel more comfortable about their insecurities. She explained that when we heighten and exaggerate our own insecurities, bringing them to a “ten,” the insecurities become a lot less intimidating and a lot more ridiculous, evoking more laughter and less anxiety. For example, I tend to be a perfectionist, a behavior rooted in my insecurity of not being good enough. When I notice I’m feeling perfectionistic, I exaggerate the statement—“If I don’t have straight A’s, I’m not trying hard enough” becomes “I MUST score an ‘A’ on EVERY assignment or else I don’t deserve to be in school at all!” This statement is accompanied by a deep, scratchy, commanding voice and dramatic, clutching hand gestures. With this insecurity externalized and heightened, I’m able to see what parts of it are ridiculous and illogical; I can see how these perfectionistic thoughts, which are so natural and constant in my mind, don’t actually serve me. It was empowering for me to recognize that my “silliness” skill has broader implications than I thought. It’s not only about helping others feel comfortable being playful; it’s also about helping others feel comfortable and safe enough to confront their insecurities, hopefully to then view them with a fresh and less anxious perspective.LOL
Well, it’s official: I have one “Laugh Out Loud” (my current code word for “drama therapy”) session under my belt, and I don’t think I’m speaking out of line to say it turned out pretty well. Part of me thinks it’s silly to feel accomplished after playing some theater games in a church basement with a few volunteers, but I also understand that it’s more than that—just because I enjoy playing games and feel natural being silly doesn’t mean it’s not an accomplishment to help others do the same. Beyond that, I was genuinely impressed with the volunteers’ creativity and willingness to “buy into” the games.
Boundary Setting
Given the stigma of mental illness, discussing therapy in public has often been considered to be “inappropriate.” Many people are still ashamed or uncomfortable to admit they go to therapy or struggle with mental illness. For this reason, I try to normalize therapy, mental illness, and treatment by talking of such things in my everyday conversations. With that in mind, last week my therapist pointed out to me that I focus more on my perceived failings rather than my successes, as if my having made a mistake or something in general having gone wrong immediately overrides any strides I’ve made. We’d been discussing setting healthy boundaries, something I sometimes struggle with. After an initial boundary-setting success, a different boundary line was crossed, and I suddenly felt incapable and incompetent—how could I be so foolish to think I’d accomplished something? Yet, as my supervisors and therapist pointed out, just because there are “setbacks” or times when healthy boundaries must be reestablished, my success is still a success; the foundation I laid for my boundary-setting skills is still there.
Finding my groove?
Collaborative collage created by BostonWarm participants to commemorate the program’s five-year anniversary
It was tough for me to figure out what to write about for this week. It’s not that nothing happened, that’s for sure—there’s always plenty going on at BostonWarm and common art—rather, there was no singular topic or moment I could think to focus on. I was starting to ask fewer questions of my (incredibly patient) supervisors and starting to learn better how to initiate things on my own. Was it possible that I was starting to find my “groove” here at my internship?
Of course, now I realize that I did indeed have a noteworthy moment at BostonWarm—I led my first art project!
Mistakes
There’s a lemon in life that I’ve been trying to turn into lemonade for quite some time now: mistakes. Logically I understand that mistakes are a part of life and a key element to learning. Some of the world’s greatest inventions, from potato chips to penicillin, were discovered or created accidentally. If I were talking to a friend or a student, I would encourage them to try different things, make mistakes, and learn something new—but me make a mistake in my internship? Surely this would be the end of me, my career over before it started.