Hi All!
I've been wracking my brain for days now since our community arrived here in the Park City (Bridgeport, that is) of what I can share about my JVC placement. At first it was all so overwhelming with so many of the different facets of the JVC experience hitting me all at once--"making house" in Bridgeport's first official JVC house, working out the kinks of the new house, and figuring out (or attempting to) what role my JVC placement will have for me as the year begins to unfold.
Probably one of the most exciting aspects of being a new Bridgeport resident is my placement at RYASAP (Regional Youth/Adult Social Action Partnership). Little did I know when I heard this acronym back during my placement interview in February, but RYASAP is not just an acronym for one organization--it is a growing agency with programs that include everything from school truancy to child guidance to teen dating violence or T.D.V. I'm learning that acronyms were not just a thing of the college world. The difference is that instead of the phrases being hip and lighthearted like "libs" or "studs" (studying), now I'm into the world of MYO: Mine, Yours, Ours: What's Right in Relationships and CCA: Center for Children's Advocacy. A whole new ballgame!
As part of my job training, my supervisor, Paige, set me up with some community outreach activities to familiarize myself more with the community and understand the disparity between Bridgeport and its surrounding areas--the extremely wealthy Fairfield County. In walking up East Main Street a ways past where Alpine intersects, it quickly transforms from what some Bridgeport citizens call "Upper East Side" (the JVC residence) to the Spanish Harlem, the Bridgeport bus station, and a haven for drug-related issues and violence. Back in the 90s, the area was known as the Village--even the police were afraid to enter into the projects area, commonly known to many as "Father Panic." It wasn't even the fact that the project development was dangerous; drug dealers and other law violators knew that if they needed a sanction from the police, they could venture into this crime-infested area and the police wouldn't dare enter unless they had the whole Bridgeport brigade with them. It was that dangerous. Fred, the fire alarm installation man who took me around with him yesterday, gave me what I like to think of as the "real deal" of Bridgeport. Not only did I watch him in action as we installed the free fire alarms as part of RYASAP and the Bridgeport Fire Department's Safe Asleep program, but I also saw the different neighborhoods and the diverse communities that make up Bridgeport. The majority of the public schools for example are Latino and black communities...the first house we visited was that of a Portuguese woman who couldn't even respond to my "Hello, how are you?" comment. If it weren't for Steve, the coordinator of the Safe Asleep program, I would never have been able to convey to the woman how the fire alarms were not battery-operated nor that it was necessary to check the alarms once a month. I never realized the value of knowing a different language when working with diverse populations; it could be the difference between saving someone's life or leaving them in the dark about something as crucial as how to operate their fire alarms.
So, amidst our afternoon in the 90 degree heat, Fred took it upon himself to teach me the lingo. At first, I was hugely embarrassed--not only was I not prepared for fire alarm installations decked out in my skirt, flats, and business casual blouse, but I noticeably was a first-timer with his ghetto language as he referred to it with pride. "Girl," he said to me, "you gotta connect with these kids. You gotta understand where they're from...or else they'll tell ya. Oh, they'll tell ya!" So I sucked up my pride and laughed at how ridiculous the words coming out of my mouth sounded. But, I realized that if throwing in the occasional, "Wassup fam?" or " Straight like jake" comment to let the Bridgeport public school kids know that I'm not afraid to show that I like and know their culture, then they're never going to give me the time of day when it comes to anything, nonetheless teen dating violence.
After the experience, I couldn't wait to plop myself down in front of the computer and write about what I learned for the day--more facts about the city I'm living in, more stories to share with my community over our dinners, and more thoughts of how this experience will be changing my perspective over the next year. Do I still feel completely clueless as to my role here? Absolutely. But, at the same point, I feel that my skills from Holy Cross and the Jesuit education that I received there prepared me for this. As corny as it sounds, it feels right, and I'm ready to take on my new job however it comes at me. AMDG!
Talk to you soon! Because right now, "that's a wrap!"
