In Learning You Will Teach, and in Teaching You Will Learn

 Today I graduated from Jumpstart.

A couple months ago, when my site manager first sent out the e-mail, I read the words "mandatory event" with dread. There was nothing I wanted to do less than sit in an auditorium with a bunch of people I didn't know, "graduating" from Jumpstart. What's worse, graduation was to take place at the same time as one of the last two days of rugby for the season, and there is nothing in the world that means more to me than a Saturday of rugby.

But today, as I sat in that auditorium, rugby did not cross my mind. I found that the people around me didn't feel like strangers at all. In a row reserved for American University, I sat among the team members who I have worked with all semester, and with my site manager whose office I have visited more times than I can count from the beginning of the spring semester until today. It was not dread, or boredom, or disinterest that I felt as I sat there. It was pride, and love, and gratitude.

I have come to realize that I am extraordinarily fortunate to have found my way into this program. The other six people on my team are absolutely amazing people who I never would have met otherwise, but who have made my experiences this semester so much more than they would have been. I find that I do not have the words to communicate the affection I hold for each person in what I will always think of as my team,  although we have now graduated and I may be the only member returning to Jumpstart next year. My life is better for having met, and worked with, and laughed with them, and I will miss them all when they are no longer part of my weekly routine.

People always say that sometimes things just don't work out, but they forget to mention that sometimes they work just perfectly, as they did when I was offered my job at Jumpstart. This program has changed me as a person for the better, has broadened my experiences, and has taught me so much. I have been blessed with the presence of not only my team members and an exceptional site manager, but with the children in our classroom as well. Walking into that classroom the first day, we were greeted by children who were hesitant to participate, some who would not even speak, and none who trusted us fully; we were a novelty, a group of semi-adults in red shirts. One girl in my session would not speak, no matter how much you tried to engage her in conversation. On the last day of session, she excitedly pointed to picture in "Max's Dragon Shirt," shared her thoughts on the story, and told me all about her favorite TV shows and what things she likes best. A boy who had struggled with focus and aggression problems sat quietly entranced in the story, laughing when we pretended we were bunny rabbits and excitedly flipping through the book to show me his favorite part, over and over again.

On Thursday, I felt a piece of my heart leave with every child as they walked out of the classroom with their parents. When it was time for the team to walk away from the remaining children, there was a flurry of hugging and goodbyes as all of us struggled to find a way to leave our classroom for the last time. The boy I mentioned above came up to the team and, understanding somehow that Jumpstart graduation meant the end of our time together, asked us not to leave. I hugged him, and he told me to give him a big hug, which turned out to be a ploy so that he could wrap his arms and legs around my torso and refuse to let go. All the while I hugged him, and then tried to escape from his embrace, he kept repeating "Don't leave, keep holding on! Keep holding on!" It was all I could do to not break into tears as my team leader had to help me gently remove him from my body.

Today, I graduated from Jumpstart.

 I was proud, and happy, and sad to sit in that audience with the team that I have come to love and the site manager who has given me constant encouragement and pulled me through moments when I felt overwhelmed. Every person in that room shared in the dedication that I have felt to this program, and made it possible for us all to go out every week and teach children. Not to read at them, or speak at them, but to learn and grow with them, and to truly teach.

This semester, I have faced a lot of trials. I am still working to complete my 300 hours of service for Jumpstart. AUTO vans have basically become a second home to me. I have tried fruitlessly to keep children from fighting with each other and have raced through this semester, trying to keep my head above the sea of things that have always needed to get done. Through all of it, there has been constant joy.  Afternoons of children smiling; travelling in the back of a Jeep with my team, laughing until I cry; seeing my own improvement and feeling the development of my own skills in the classroom.  It is with many emotions that I promise a little boy who may forget me, but who I will never forget, that I will keep holding on. I will keep holding on to the values and lessons I have learned, the experiences I have felt, the memories I have forged, and the Jumpstart mission, which I have adopted as my own. I will keep holding on to those things, and I will never let them go.