Self-improvement

Head Heart Hands Health

Jeanna GLeave a comment

For a couple years of my childhood, I participated in the 4-H. For those of you who don’t know what it is, 4-H is a youth development program that is part of the National Institute of Food and Agriculture’s (NIFA) Cooperative Extension System (CES). NIFA is an agency within the United States Department of Agriculture. CES is part of the Land-Grant University System, which was created with the intention of increasing educational opportunities for the working class population, especially farmers and ranchers. 4-H helps to prepare youth for work and life by teaching useful skills through hands-on experiences.

I grew up in a rural town, a farming town. The town’s area is about forty square miles, and there are over thirty farms. There were also fewer than 10,000 people living there when I was growing up. In addition to all that, the World Wide Web didn’t go live until I was in Middle School, so the skills youth were learning when I was a child are a bit different than the skills youth are learning these days, especially during the remote and virtual learning days of Covid-19.

So what did I learn in 4-H? I signed up for sewing, cooking, photography, and dairy. I really enjoyed sewing, and to this day I say I’m going to get a sewing machine and try my hand at it again. I’ve had plans to make a t-shirt quilt for, oh, I’d say close to 30 years. I made a skirt the first year, and a jumper the next. I liked the puzzle part of sewing; following the pattern, making individual parts, and then piecing them all together.

Cooking was fun, but I learned more about cooking by hanging out in my mom’s and grandma’s kitchens. I learned even more from working in the hospitality industry for 25 years. Following a recipe is easy, but making a dish unique and tasty is where the challenge lies, and what requires experience. I definitely have experience in eating! I remember completing an assignment in my early elementary years that asked what my favorite subjects were. I wrote “lunch.”

I loved my photography class. I had taken photography as an activity at my summer camp, too, so I already knew I would enjoy it. I still have dreams of being a photojournalist for a food magazine. In that dream I can travel around the world eating delicious foods, taking pictures of the meals and locations, and then writIng about the experience. I guess I should buy a camera. Everything seems to be digital and captured on iPhones these days, but one of the best parts of photography was developing my own pictures in the dark room. I was, and am still, envious of the woman who led the 4-H photography class; she had a dark room in her house! Maybe I’ll have a she-shed dark room at a future home of mine.

Dairy was quite the memorable experience. I was assigned a local farm and a calf to walk. I would walk my cow up and down the center of the barn. All of the adult heifers were facing away from me, so I was always paranoid that I would get donkey-kicked by a cow. We also learned to clean their hooves and give them hair cuts. When people ask me about where I grew up, I like to tell them I walked cows as a way of describing where I’m from. I won first place in Showmanship at the county fair. I loved that trophy with the gold cow on top. I also won first place in the clipping contest. What’s a clipping contest? Whoever does the best job cutting all of the cow’s hair in less than 10 minutes wins! It cracks me up just knowing things like this exist.

4-H exists to help youth to develop skills that they can use to support their homes and communities. Although I don’t take care of cows or sew anything other than buttons, I did improve upon life skills like problem-solving, reading and following directions, finishing what I start, and creative thinking. I loved the experiences, especially the ones I probably wouldn’t have otherwise had, like caring for cows and developing my own photos. I hope to get my daughter involved. It’s a good thing 4-H helped me to develop time management skills, too!

What clubs did you join as a kid?

Be a Frolicker

Jeanna G3 Comments

I came across one of the most endearing posts on social media that I’ve seen in a long time (kitten and puppy pictures not included). It was of a person (@AshyMalik) frolicking and wondering why he had never known about it or done it before, and that a good frolic will turn your bad day around. It cracked me right up, and then made me a little sad to think there are people who never frolic! I’m a frolicker. I skip and gallop from point A to point B. My daughter and I mimic Phoebe Buffay when we’re in a hurry (remember the one when she ran through the park with Rachel?). I used to roll down hills (now I’d probably vomit). I love a good Maria moment when the hills come alive and I spin in circles. My coworker and I reenact the Parkour episode of The Office when our boss is out to lunch. When I taught PE I would have the kids travel to the line by bear walking, spinning, crawling, or inch worming, because walking was just too boring, and idle feet are the devil’s workshop (or something like that). It’s the carefree movements that really make us feel alive. Children are much better at this than adults. I suppose exercise is the grown-up version of frolicking; people can experience a kinetic catharsis without feeling too self conscious.

I used to be a wallflower at school dances, except for the slow dances. Fast dancing had long odds in my life. And then, when I was 24, I went to Webster Hall in New York. I was working as a Program Director at a camp in Jersey that summer, and Asia and Kasia, the two Polish girls who worked in the kitchen, were my cabin mates. They really wanted to tour NYC, and by “tour” I mean “go clubbing.” So I asked my cousin, Ben, where to go, and Webster Hall is where he sent us. So many rooms! So many styles of music! And I stood against the wall listening to the music in each of the seven rooms I wound my way through. Until it hit me. I stood there watching as Asia and Kasia had a ball dancing their asses off. I stood there. They danced. Who stood out like a sore thumb? Me! So, I danced. And the world didn’t end. So I danced some more.

Dancing is frolicking. Making snow angels is frolicking. Jumping in a pile of leaves is frolicking. Splashing in puddles is frolicking. Sneaking up on someone with a water balloon is frolicking, especially the running away part! Don’t be a wallflower. Give in to temptation. Carpe Diem. Be a frolicker.

How do YOU frolic?

Sharing is Caring

Jeanna G2 Comments

When we first moved to town, before buying the house I grew up in, we rented a house next to a family that became and remains close friends of ours. They had a daughter that was about my age, so naturally we played together often. When we bought our house around the corner and down the road, we still made our way back to their house to play on a regular basis. In the summers, they participated in a program called the Fresh Air Fund. Two young children from New York City would travel to our rural town to live with their host family, our friends, for the summer. My parents followed their lead and welcomed a young girl to live with us for a summer. I anticipated their arrival with a buzz of energy because I knew how the increase in group size would spur fresh dynamics that harnessed a lot of potential for game play!

The mission of the Fresh Air Fund is to transform limited opportunity into limitless potential for the underserved children of NYC. I wasn’t aware of this at the time, but my experiences with these children was my introduction to racial inequity. I remember how excited and nervous the children were in some of their new experiences with us. What do you mean you’ve never swum in a pond before? What do you mean you’ve never rolled down the side of a grassy hill before? What do you mean you’ve never stomped through a brook or walked through the woods or caught fireflies before? I took my advantages and opportunities for granted. I still do.

I offer up prayers of thanksgiving and gratitude, and prayers for those in need. My life’s work has revolved around helping the young and underprivileged gain skills and knowledge to achieve their goals. And so maybe I’m doing better than some of my privileged white counterparts in the awareness department, but I cannot become complacent, because there is always more to do and more to give.

I’m hopeful that, in light of recent events, more white people, myself included, will come to terms with their white identities. They will do some digging, uncover some truths, and let in some light. And then they will begin to share. And I don’t necessarily mean opening the doors to our homes to welcome in children from the city (although I highly recommend it!). I mean to share the kinds of things that are replenished and multiplied through the act of sharing: kindness, joy, knowledge, experiences, time, and friendship.

It’s past time for a season of change. It’s past time for those of us who have been breathing freely, stagnant as the air may be, to throw open the doors in our minds, because everyone can benefit from fresh air.

What gifts can you share? How can you help to level the playing field for all humankind? What opportunities and privileges have you taken for granted throughout your life?