Going Back

I've been itching to write, so here is a brief prologue to the international journey: the first part of my summer adventures was actually a brief trip back to the good ol' Mississippi Delta for a review of last year's work at the Bolivar County Community Action Rainbow Emergency Shelter. Jim and I finished our Russian final and hopped in his car for the long drive south. In Cleveland, the WalMart has become a Super WalMart,and there are a couple of new restaurants, but other than that, Cleveland is still Cleveland.

It was really great to see our old clients a year later--so many were actually successful. We left really disheartened last July, thinking that not much had helped, but instead, so many were successful and living on their own. John,the mentally handicapped gentleman, was living on his own in a beautiful assited living place that he kept spic and span. Cassie with the little boy had just found a job, Chisa and Jerald with the 2-day old baby girl have theirown place and the baby is turning 1! And Michelle and her two older boys also have an apartment that is kept up beautifully. Really everyone we saw was doing well--very rewarding to see that things ended up working out. To be fair, we didn't see everyone...there were still a large number that slipped through the cracks, but I'm not sure perfection could ever be a goal.

We managed to be put right to work Tuesday night. Mary cooked a huge meal for us, but then we were on duty for the night! It was nice to see that she trusted us enough to get a rare night off, but it brought back quite the memories with getting keys, putting everyone to bed...and even sneaking off to our Sonic. True to form, we had 1:30 and 2:30 am calls from clients to make sure we remembered the drill! On Thursday when a new client came in I got to do the intake--just like the old days! And then we got to take Mary out to Fat Baby's for a big catfish dinner and Po' Monkey's with some old clients for a good time! After a long drive home and a great night in Nashville, we both made it home safely and now it's time for the next set of Robertson adventures! I can't wait!

But, to reflect, going back was a new experience for me....I usually insist on moving forward! I wrote about the experience in a column meant for the first edition of the Summer Chronicle, but surprise, surprise...a lacrosse column trumped it. However, I'd still love to share my thoughts on returning, so I've pasted the column below!

Shades of Blue: Going Back

I love to travel, but I hate going backwards. So last week when I road tripped down to the Mississippi Delta to return to the small town where I had spent nine weeks last summer managing a homeless shelter, it was something new for me. I experienced so much in the time I spent there last year, but I think I learned more in three days last week than in all of last summer.

Summers in college are filled with trips, internships, research expeditions and fellowships all over the country and world, and they can be extremely rewarding. The problem, though, is that after a month or two, we finish, and that’s the end. We learn new things, but never really see what comes of it. We get back to the Duke bubble and sort of forget about it.

When I got to Cleveland, Mississippi last summer, I was about as clueless as a new freshman at a frat party. My shelter had 18 homeless residents and suddenly I was responsible for everyone’s safety, wellbeing, and discipline. Young, old, victims of domestic violence, premature babies—I had to figure out the best way to get everyone’s life back on track. It was definitely a bit overwhelming. A fellow student and I counseled, planned, organized and nagged our residents 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

Yet, nine weeks later, I wasn’t sure that anything we had done made any sort of difference. No one could hold onto a job long enough to save up for a deposit on an apartment, let alone rent, utilities and everything else to live on one’s own.

The Bob Dylan lyric kept running through my mind: Only one thing I did wrong—Stayed in Mississippi a day too long.

Getting back to Duke, it was easy to let memories of the sleepless nights fade away—I forgot about the police knocking on the door at 1:30 a.m. with a man off the streets or the 3:00 a.m. call for help when a new mother couldn’t get her baby to stop crying. At first I felt guilty being back, but gradually, midterms, finals and even parties blocked out those long summer nights.

But I could not help wondering what had happened to everyone—going back felt like something we just had to do. Last week I had a chance to see most of my clients from the summer. I couldn’t believe the results. Several had managed to find apartments and keep jobs. The new baby was turning one and learning to walk. The mentally ill gentleman was settled into an assisted living apartment. The mother who was a victim of domestic abuse was finally living with her children in a beautiful apartment. I had never seen her happier.

Certainly not everyone succeeded; there were as many downs as ups. But this was important to see too. I got to really reflect on what had worked and what didn’t. I learned a lot in nine weeks, but it didn’t mean much without the context and reflection of long-term results. Many of the conclusions I had made when I had left turned out to be dead wrong. Some of the “sure shots” to succeed were still jobless and wandering. I had to reevaluate my thoughts and reshape my ideas of good and bad policies, and I am sure if I go back next year, I will have to reevaluate all over again. After all, who cares about the data of an experiment if you can’t tell what it means?

I hear professors talk about the economics of welfare or homeless policy a lot, but some seem to have never, ever experienced anything like what they teach about. How do you explain immigration if you have never spent substantial amounts of time talking to immigrants? How do you criticize welfare if you have no idea what it is like to live on food stamps?

Liberal, conservative—it doesn’t matter. Opinions do not mean anything if they cannot be backed up by real, practical experience. That cannot come from a few weeks of interning.

Summer is just beginning and Dukies are fanning out across the world for new opportunities. I hope, though, that these do not become “one-time shots.” May they be the beginning of a long relationship of discovering through observation, and most importantly, careful follow-through.

And as you travel—one final Mississippi lesson to share: Arrive for your flight on-time. When they say you won’t be allowed to board if you are late, sometimes they mean it. From my experience stuck in the middle of nowhere—it sucks. Believe me.


One week until I leave! The nerves are setting in! Here goes nothing....