Journalism

At this point in the project, I’m almost done with the article I’ve been working on all month. It’s an unusual little piece, especially at this stage when it’s mostly written but not necessarily organized yet. To clarify: what I’ve been writing about RISSE has flowed out in bits, little mini ideas that either stand alone or connect to another mini idea through a shared subject. They are technically discrete snapshots (I wouldn’t even say they’re stories, necessarily) but my hope is that they each contribute a verse to the poem I’m trying to compose about this after school center. There’s a certain amount of restraint that is involved in this writing process, too, because I am really dedicated to a couple things with this project: one, acknowledging myself in the context of the center and the things I write about it, and two, painting these kids and this place with as light a brush as possible. I want to convey beauty and love in my piece, but I’m loathe to have any other designs f

April was the beginning of the end of this project! During two weeks this month, I visited RISSE twice, on both Wednesday, my regular day, and Friday. What I’ve been learning as I wrap up this project, and specifically as I start to write, is that meticulous notes are crucial. I’ve taken notes after almost every visit since I started volunteering at RISSE in 2016, but I’ve noticed as I look back at some of them that they aren’t as detailed as they could be. It’s frustrating to read the beginning of what could be a really cool detail about the after school center or a particular kid but not have any really specific pieces of information that could ground it for a reader. What has been pretty cool about this period of throwing writing into the mix of my normal routine of observing and note-taking is that I can write something I find interesting and then go back to RISSE and fill in more details, ask more questions—or sometimes, miraculously, beautiful little details that are perfect

I’ve started to write this month! It’s been an interesting undertaking because the way I’ve been doing it is by drawing a bunch of different scenes from various funny or thought-provoking or just beautiful things I’ve witnessed at the refugee center. Of course, at this point there is no through-line; the little stories/vignettes have no relation to each other except their subjects, and at least right now I’m hoping to end up with a longish piece (several thousand words, ideally) that  flows . (Literally right now I have a few little stories divided from each other by a couple returns and a “—“.) I intend to go as in-depth as I can on one girl in particular, and maybe two if it works out that way, but the way it’s going right now, I could see the final piece being a more general ode to the children I’ve observed and gotten to know at the center and the specialness of the place itself. There are enough lovable idiosyncrasies about the everyday happenings at the after school program that

In my latest visits to RISSE, I’ve been homing in on the kids I’m most interested in observing and writing about. They are all in a friend group with each other, as it turns out, and a large part of what is so compelling to me about them is not just the kids themselves but their interactions with each other. It’s also fun for me to stir the conversational pot with them because often fascinating stuff comes out; I’ve been surprised at the reactiveness and insightfulness that often follows when I say something like, “What do you think happens after you die?” or “Do you think God is a man or a woman?” What’s interesting too about this kind of prompting on my part is that I am involved in the production of the material; I’m definitely not just a fly on the wall, which I think is actually right in any kind of scenario in which I spend a prolonged amount of time with my subjects. Over this time I will undoubtedly form relationships with them, and therefore it just feels disingenuous to