As I walked past Wolfington Hall earlier today, I imagined myself in the same location in just three days time. Waiting patiently for the service van, I make small talk with other classmates in attempt to distract my nerves. My legs tremble with anxiety and excitement as I think ahead to the next hour. I pull on the neckline of my Saint Joseph's University t-shirt. I scan the other students' outfits to see if mine stands out. No one else is wearing a v-neck, which only increases my worries about my choice in shirt.
I decide to stare intently at the nearby construction workers to take my mind off of my wardrobe issues. As I take in my current surroundings, I cannot help but picture the differences between here and my perceptions of the service sight. Feeling alarmed, I remind myself of the tips that Shannon and Megan gave to the class on our first day. “Make eye contact with everyone you walk past.” “Act like you belong.” “Do not bring your purse.” Oh great, these reminders just worsen my nerves.
As my mind continues to wander, I imagine riding down a trash ridden street. I bounce in my seat as the van races over bumpy potholes. Shortly after, the van pulls over towards a run-down, brick building called the Center For Literacy. One look at this establishment and an overwhelming sense of curiosity takes over. My entire body is alert and my mind is focused.
Emerging slowly from the vehicle, I follow my class over to the steps. Each step I climb, I remember how excited I am to meet my student. Even though I feel nervous, I am sure that their feelings are much worse. I cannot begin to know how it feels being an adult who can not read or write. These adults must have much determination and courage to take on this journey. I am reminded that this experience will not only better the life of another individual, but myself. I am ready.
I decide to stare intently at the nearby construction workers to take my mind off of my wardrobe issues. As I take in my current surroundings, I cannot help but picture the differences between here and my perceptions of the service sight. Feeling alarmed, I remind myself of the tips that Shannon and Megan gave to the class on our first day. “Make eye contact with everyone you walk past.” “Act like you belong.” “Do not bring your purse.” Oh great, these reminders just worsen my nerves.
As my mind continues to wander, I imagine riding down a trash ridden street. I bounce in my seat as the van races over bumpy potholes. Shortly after, the van pulls over towards a run-down, brick building called the Center For Literacy. One look at this establishment and an overwhelming sense of curiosity takes over. My entire body is alert and my mind is focused.
Emerging slowly from the vehicle, I follow my class over to the steps. Each step I climb, I remember how excited I am to meet my student. Even though I feel nervous, I am sure that their feelings are much worse. I cannot begin to know how it feels being an adult who can not read or write. These adults must have much determination and courage to take on this journey. I am reminded that this experience will not only better the life of another individual, but myself. I am ready.
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