The end of the school year has arrived, and first grade has come and gone quicker than I would like. As such, the end of the school year party for my daughter landed on Wednesday. The parents had met and decided that Rivercrest Park in Oregon City would provide the perfect space for thirty free-wheeling kids. With a shady forested section, playground, and waterpark rolled into one, the park came equipped with so many built-in activities that we didn't have to worry about filling every moment with games, prizes, etc.
The day began a little crazy as I overslept a bit, so Tracy was a spark plug of nervous energy. We left the house about 30 minutes late, and when we arrived at the park, the kids had already arrived. We were in charge of some of the decorations and the lunch, so it wasn't too bad of a faux pax.
After slapping some decorations up around the covered picnic area, it was time for the festivities to begin. Most of the children were immediately enchanted by the balloon artist one of the parents hired, and the line for his services extended into the double digits. While the kids held it together for the most part, I found myself mitigating a couple of "cutting" conflicts and holding places in line so that each of the students could help finish the teachers' gifts by planting a gooey, paint-covered thumbprint on a ceramic flowerpot.
I'll admit that this promise was meant as an attempt to get outside my own life and out into the broader community, but time was tight at the end of the term and volunteerism is volunteerism, right?
The reason I chose "Volunteer" as a promise is because I oftentimes find myself navigating only the narrow confines of family and work life. As such, I too often become consumed with an entirely selfish regard toward my own problems and stresses. I am a writer, and if there is one thing a writer must be, it is engaged. Volunteerism is one way of engaging with the broader community, with the world around me.
So, while I volunteered at Shea's school and got to spend the day with my wife and daughter, I also got to spend the day with 29 other 7-year-olds and a slew of parents who I don't see often. I got to play in the sun, and feed some tiny bellies. I got to help the kids, to nurture them in a small way.
One thing I have noticed about these functions is that there are almost no fathers there. The volunteers are almost always made up entirely of mothers. This day was no exception, and there was only one other father there to help out. As a result, I find that the boys gravitate toward the men when they are there. Unconsciously they are looking toward male role models, and I often find a young man standing before me with a soccer ball, or a beach ball, or some other kind of toy, and there is a devilish little glint in their eye as they challenge me to a game of "keep away" or an impromptu soccer scrimmage.
I don't often get to meet the young men of Shea's class, so these events allow me a look inside the wider makeup of her school. I can see the dynamics at work within their little social circles, and I'm pleased to say that there are many pleasant and well-mannered young men in her class.
Volunteering served its function for me. It allowed me outside the confines of routine. It pushed me out into the world and allowed me to have some play time while giving toward the needs of others who were not me or my direct family. In that way, I feel the promise was well-executed. Plus, water park...'nough said.
My next promise is another effort to reach outside the confines of routine.
The reason I chose "Volunteer" as a promise is because I oftentimes find myself navigating only the narrow confines of family and work life. As such, I too often become consumed with an entirely selfish regard toward my own problems and stresses. I am a writer, and if there is one thing a writer must be, it is engaged. Volunteerism is one way of engaging with the broader community, with the world around me.
So, while I volunteered at Shea's school and got to spend the day with my wife and daughter, I also got to spend the day with 29 other 7-year-olds and a slew of parents who I don't see often. I got to play in the sun, and feed some tiny bellies. I got to help the kids, to nurture them in a small way.
One thing I have noticed about these functions is that there are almost no fathers there. The volunteers are almost always made up entirely of mothers. This day was no exception, and there was only one other father there to help out. As a result, I find that the boys gravitate toward the men when they are there. Unconsciously they are looking toward male role models, and I often find a young man standing before me with a soccer ball, or a beach ball, or some other kind of toy, and there is a devilish little glint in their eye as they challenge me to a game of "keep away" or an impromptu soccer scrimmage.
I don't often get to meet the young men of Shea's class, so these events allow me a look inside the wider makeup of her school. I can see the dynamics at work within their little social circles, and I'm pleased to say that there are many pleasant and well-mannered young men in her class.
Volunteering served its function for me. It allowed me outside the confines of routine. It pushed me out into the world and allowed me to have some play time while giving toward the needs of others who were not me or my direct family. In that way, I feel the promise was well-executed. Plus, water park...'nough said.
My next promise is another effort to reach outside the confines of routine.
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