Every AmeriCorps volunteer goes through a week of off-site
training called Pre-Service Orientation, or PSO. The Corporation sends you to a
hotel where you spend twenty-four hours a day surrounded by fellow VISTAs.
In my case, I attended regular PSO and then VISTA Leader
training. I spent two weeks in Lombard, IL (a suburb of Chicago)
surrounded by some of the most dedicated, hardworking, selfless people I've ever met.
During PSO we talked about what it means to be a VISTA. What
it looks and feels like to be on call as a volunteer 24 hours a day, 7 days a
week. We looked at what we’re giving up, what we’re gaining, and why we’re all
taking a year (or more) of our lives to engage in service.
We discussed our projects, exchanged ideas, and connected
with our fellow volunteers. Those of us doing a second, third, or even fourth
year of service traded war stories, and passed along techniques for living on
an extremely restricted budget.
We examined our privilege, our prejudices, and our biases. We
had difficult conversations about race, gender, and poverty. We were honest. We
learned and grew, and then we all went our separate ways.
I came back the next week for VISTA Leader Orientation. The
group was smaller this time, 40 people instead of the almost 200 of the
previous training. Most of the leaders I met had already started their service,
many had already encountered some of the challenges we would later discuss in
small groups. It was a quieter session, less like a pep rally and more like
being part of a highly motivated think tank.
Sessions were dedicated to problem solving, mediating
conflict, and addressing specific scenarios common to the VISTA Leader
experience. In one group we spent several hours constructing a year-long
communications plan to be used by leaders who worked with VISTAs at a distance (much
like the Campus Compact model).
Once again, on a chilly Friday afternoon, we all went
our separate ways. Then, a few days later I was reading the enthusiastic
tweets and facebook status messages from my new friends and one of them posted
simply, “#cultureshock.”
That’s when I realized how hard it can be coming back to the
“real world” after a week or two of AmeriCorps immersion. The world we come
back to is full of the very real, seemingly insurmountable problems we
discussed at training. It’s uncomfortable. But that feeling of discomfort is
important. It is that feeling which pushes us to make change. It motivates us
to serve.
I came away from training with new friends, new resources,
and a renewed sense of purpose. Training reminded me why I’m doing this and
that I’m not alone. I’m ready to work. I’m ready to serve.
