Week 8

I’m learning that most folks in D.C. keep a finger on some sort of media pulse, whether it’s the morning Express paper, television, or my personal favorite—the local blogs. I’ve got more than a few of those in my arsenal, so I usually have a pretty good handle on what’s going on in and around the District since I can read about it in real-time. There’s this constant buzz, and if you know where to look, it’s pretty easy to stay in the loop. So if there’s a riot going down at the other end of the city, I’ll probably be reading about it within 10 or 15 minutes—and that’s exactly what happened this weekend.

There was a big meeting of the World Bank and International Monetary Fund on Saturday, which happens every year around this time. And every year like clockwork, someone stages a protest. I won’t get into the ins and outs of the situation except to say that given an opportunity and the slightest excuse, people seem to love taking to the streets here. And if at all possible, I like to be there when it happens. I hadn’t even gotten out of bed yet on Saturday morning when I read about this one, but after glancing at my watch and realizing I could make it down there if I left right away, I threw my trusty Powershot into my bag and headed underground to catch the next train into DC.

This particular group was marching from a nearby park to the World Bank building, so I figured I’d meet them at the end of their route. When I got off the Metro, I wound my way around the maze of street closures and got there just in time to see the first few protesters trickling into the square. A few minutes later, I could hear shouts and drums from the next block over headed in my direction. Hundreds of police officers put on their best riot faces, I got my camera ready, and then everything collided all at once. It was pretty much complete chaos for the next two hours. I realize that’s probably not the normal place for an intern to hang out, but seriously—if you have even a little interest in group psychology or political activism, it’s a completely fascinating place to be! I spent the next few hours giving the camera a good workout and watching hundreds of angry kids stretch the First Amendment to its farthest limits.

Scuffling at the World Bank protest.

I’ve always been really curious as to what makes people do things like this and what they hope it a accomplishes, so DC is definitely one of the best places in the world to study that. I’m in the business of advocacy—that’s a little-known but huge part of social work. In D.C. I’m getting to see it from all sides, from the kids chucking bricks through windows in Georgetown to months-long hunger strikes to anti-refugee activism that affects the core of what I do. I’ve had a lot of interesting conversations since I’ve been here with activists and protesters of all shapes and sizes, from all walks of life. And I guess what I’m seeing is that people just have a lot to say, and DC is like center-stage. Questionable methods aside, people just want to be heard. The amazing part is that when you live here, you pretty much have a front row seat if you want it. You just have to keep an ear to the street.

A hunger-striker named Start Loving hasn’t eaten since October 1st. He says he’s waiting for hearts to change on Capitol Hill. And yes, the forehead ink is real.

It’s been a pretty big week between all of that, the Dalai Lama’s visit to the Capitol, and the ever-shifting world of refugee resettlement. Midterms have really snuck up on me, but it feels like I’m just getting started!

A Tibetan student waits for the Dalai Lama outside the Capitol.

Week 7

So, I had a plan for today. I had a to-do list just like I do every day. It generally chills out in the sidebar of Microsoft Outlook, and there are empty checkboxes next to each thing on the list. If everything is crossed off by the time I leave, then I’ve had a good day. Maybe there are some phone calls I need to make, a budget class to be taught, or some invoices to deliver to the Powers That Be. Things that take two minutes and things that take two weeks. I had a good day today, but by the looks of my to-do list I didn’t accomplish much of anything.

It’s a crazy thing, helping out with resettlement. We don’t have tons of cash to throw around. We have to rely on a lot of resources that aren’t always there and a lot of people we can’t always pay, and we need both badly. This time, it really came down to the wire: We’ve got a family arriving tonight, found them a house yesterday, and moved in what furniture and supplies we had this afternoon. Beds? Check. Pots and pans? Check. Toothbrushes? Check. Dinner? Check. Toilet paper? Oops—put that one on the list. We got a bed stuck in a doorframe, had a near-mishap involving a kitchen table, and almost locked the keys in the car. But thanks to our staff (who, like me, had to-do lists that probably didn’t include moving furniture) and an incredible volunteer on extremely short notice, we dusted ourselves off after a really long day and stepped back to admire the sort-of-fully-furnished condo—less than two hours before the family was supposed to touch down on U.S. soil. Okay, yes, it looks a little empty and mismatched—it’s no “Extreme Home Makeover,” but it works, and it’s almost home.

Needless to say, I came home tonight with a pretty different perspective from the one I had when I left the house this morning. My nerves are shot, my entire body aches, and I didn’t quite make it to class this time around. But I’m sitting here on my cushy TWC-supplied couch, watching “The Office” on my TWC-supplied TV, admiring the Arlington skyline from eight stories up, and realizing that I have it pretty good over here.

Before today, my week wasn’t exactly stellar. I was going to find a clever and uppity way to whine about being sick all weekend, try to make the Solar Decathlon sound way more exciting than it actually was, and possibly drop a few hints about how Washington’s a pretty tiring place to live sometimes.




The Solar Decathlon, which was actually kind of boring.





Luckily for you, dear readers, my plans fell through. ; )

Week 6

Three-day weekends are a wonderful thing. Apparently people around here actually have Columbus Day off, which worked out really well for me this year! One of the things I love about Washington is that it’s pretty close to a lot of other cities, so when a three-day weekend rolls around, it’s a great chance to get out of the area and see some other parts of the East Coast. Two of my roommates took the Chinatown bus to New York City, which is only about four hours away by bus, and $40 round-trip. Easy enough, right?

As for me, I headed back home for a day, then hopped in my car and made my way down the coast on Saturday morning for a weekend at the beach with some of my favorite Nashvillians. Now, there are at least two things Nashvillians do often and do well: They know how to hug, and they know how to grill out. Kites were flown, grills were fired up, guitars were played, and good times were had. On Sunday morning, we all scraped ourselves out of bed while it was still dark outside to sit on the beach and take in a beautiful sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean.

We weren’t quite sure how to put these together. (Guest photographer: Morgan Levy)














My kite was pretty much doomed from the beginning. (Guest photographer: Marion Millard)

On Sunday morning, we all scraped ourselves out of bed while it was still dark outside to sit on the beach and take in a beautiful sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean.

Soon afterwards, I ventured back up north for some more family time, then took the Amtrak back into DC. As the train roared on past the white dome of the Jefferson Memorial and the Washington Monument, I realized that this city looks even more impressive at night. Whether you want to call it home or you’re just passing through, you have to admit that there’s no place like it on earth.

So I find myself at work on Tuesday, my desk piled high with stacks of Employment Guides, Sunday’s Washington Post, City Papers, D.C. maps, Craigslist rental printouts, and transit brochures. We’ve got a refugee family flying in from Iraq in a few days and we’re still looking for a place for them to live. There’s a couch that needs to be picked up, welcome packages to put together, and so many preparations to be made in order to make Arlington look just a little more like home. It’s hard work, it can be hectic, and sometimes I wonder if it’s ever going to come together; but knowing that in a few days, some family will be leaving that mess and beginning to call this place home makes it so incredibly worth it.

So until next week, from my soggy city to yours, goodnight!

Week 5

If you ever want good music, good art, and great food, Adams Morgan is where you need to be. This weekend, I paid a visit to DC’s annual Crafty Bastards festival in the heart of this neighborhood where hundreds of ridiculously talented artists and crafters were able to show off and sell their stuff. Think colorful iPod covers, laptop sleeves, booths upon booths of amazing screen-printed t-shirt artists, silkscreen concert posters, bags and purses made from recycled vinyl—that doesn’t even begin to describe what all was there. A couple of hours into it, I found myself crouched next to the dance floor, camera in hand, with a front-row seat to one of DC’s biggest annual breakdancing competitions. Here’s something that very few people know about me: I love me some breakdancing.

You see, back in Tennessee I worked and volunteered at a music venue/skatepark/urban youth center in downtown Nashville. It was basically a place for kids to go after school so they’d stay out of trouble; we had all kinds of art, film, dance, and photography classes to keep them busy. Let me tell you- we had some troubled kids there, but they were troubled kids with an unbelievable amount of talent. One of the biggest places I saw it was on the dance floor.

Crafty Bastards’ B-boy Battle competition was nonstop energy. And kudos to the kid who gave up his spot by the floor for me--I got some great pictures! A couple of them were even linked over from the DCist blog, if you’re into that kind of thing.

When you’re little and you try to think of the coolest career you could ever have, social work isn’t generally the first thing that comes to mind for most people. It isn’t always pretty, we don’t pass senators in the hallway, we hang out in some not-so-great parts of town, and some of the world’s most difficult people and situations somehow find their way into our offices every single day. But I seriously feel like one of the luckiest people in the world when I get to see that kind of hope, energy, and talent show up in the unlikeliest of places—whether it’s at a skatepark in downtown Nashville or a makeshift dance floor in the heart of DC. Or even in the dusty basement office of Arlington Refugee Services.

Although there hasn’t been any breakdancing at work, I still think it’s one of the coolest placements I could possibly have. I’ve been staying on top of Craigslist looking for housing for some Iranian clients, dealing with some pretty hectic end-of-the-fiscal-year craziness, learning all about what can go wrong for our clients (one family came to the US with ONE bag, and the airline lost it!), as well as what can go right (one of the clients from last week’s pre-employment training got a job!) It sure as heck never gets boring.

Time to go hit up the Presidential Lecture Series! See you next week.