"I am an Americorps member, and I will get things done"

Here we go, the start of a new chapter in my life. I have just completed the first week of my brand spankin' new Americorps position. I am the Community Outreach Coordinator (that's right, I'm capitalized) at the Hillsboro Family Resource Center in Hillsboro, OR. I am hoping to write in this blog once or twice a week to chronicle my experience, keep you informed, and log journaling hours (haha). This is a lengthy post, but they won't usually be so long I think. I hope you enjoy it and my love of commas.

I arrived in Portland, Oregon on August 31, hauling bags from the MAX lightrail, through a park to a bus, and then through tree-lined neighborhood streets, shoulders aching and stomach growling, to the lovely Kitchin house in NE Portland. My Portland-native friend Anna's parents have generously lent me a room and use of their house until my job, living situation, and mind settles into place.

I woke early the next morning to carpool to Menucha Conference Center for the three-day Americorps orientation. Menucha is a beautiful place, situated on a hill by the Columbia Gorge with plenty of views, many a grassy knoll, and family-style meals. Menucha is the old, veritable mansion of a 1900's Oregon governor. The ephemeral presence of staff, squeaky bunk beds, and old-time decoration style (read: lace curtains and stern old man portraits) makes you feel like you're at a combined summer camp murder mystery. I soon became friends with one of my carpool-mates and Menucha roommate, Staci. Our equal love of sarcasm and lack of enthusiasm bonded us, I think, and we sat together all three days, joking about life maps and useless lectures.

We were handed a binder of Important Americorps Information, none of which seemed quite relevant in our summer camp surroundings. The days went by slowly, booked from 8am to 8pm with presentation, rules, and Americorps policy. And more policy. And then we read policy. Much more exciting were the much-anticipated free Americorps sweatshirt and tee. Ironically, I can't wear them much because Americorps gear = representing Americorps in all its rigid governmental glory. No alcohol, politics, or religions allowed!

I finally escaped Menucha on Friday to return to the glorious sun at the Kitchins, filling my long weekend with old friends. As Tuesday drew closer, the fears and nervousness took up more and more space in my head. I woke up early Tuesday morning, convinced I was late to my first day of work, only to find my cell phone's glow reading 3:52am.

Hillsboro is an hour and a half from NE Portland by public transit. My stop is one of the last on the MAX route, and I have already finished a book this week. The Hillsboro Family Resource Center, my place of work for the next year, is composed of two bland trailers with two walk-in metal storage units in the back, all squashed in the middle of a parking lot. It is not, by anyone's eye, beautiful. But after my first day, I look at the building with a new fondness.

I already know important things happen there, and the work I am doing is real. All my worries (okay, never all, but close enough for now) have fled, replaced by an excitement and contentment. I can feel it in my voice, my body, and my spontaneous smile when people ask how I'm doing.

Okay, enough with the cheesiness. Here's the real stuff. I walked in on Tuesday, and my new supervisor Irene gave me a big hug. She is new too, three weeks fresh and still training. I hit the ground running, with a few hours of training and largely left to prioritize and go to work. Which, pleasantly, I found out that I am good at. What I have learned is that I have real, BIG responsibilities. This is both exhilirating and terrifying. I am volunteer coordinator for weekly and seasonal events. I will be organizing those seasonal events, which can serve up to 1,000 people. I will also be doing health insurance outreach, creating pages for our updated website, and a myriad of other tasks that I'm forgetting or haven't been created yet.

The HFRC building has a clothing closet (free clothing "store"), a food pantry, and a few cubicles. One of those is mine, and the others belong to health insurance outreach workers. Everyone who works there - I haven't met all of them, but I can count them on one hand - are my heroes. Irene works non-stop. The outreach workers are constantly looking for families without insurance, guiding them through the process to give their kids insurance, and following up. More on this later.

I'm not one to point this out, but I love that our staff meeting is five strong, spunky women, four of us in our 20s and 30s. Of course, I'm also reminded that I am the only one who doesn't speak fluent Spanish - something I intend to work on someday, when life settles down a bit. Every time someone comes in only speaking Spanish, I am reminded of that limitation and one less person I can help directly.

All in all, I am immensely satisfied, excited, exhilarated, challenged. It's going to be a good year.

Love you all!