I grew up reading a lot of fantasy and science fiction, and I still enjoy these genres. In these books, the hero encounters a series of obstacles, each of a different type: fighting some fire monster, traveling to a shadowed realm, taming a water dragon. Once the hero has mastered some element, the next challenge rears its head.
In a lot of ways, it feels like we are like these fantasy heroes. Instead of monsters, we’re facing down weather, injury, car issues, bike failures, logistics, burnout, things in our personal lives (we have lives outside of Spokes??!?), oh and did I say injury?
However, it may be more apt (and more optimistic) to instead think of the stories where the hero is gaining a set of skills, mastering a series of elements. Having figured out housing on 12-hour notice, finding a church in who-knows-where Kansas seems manageable. Having replaced ⅓ of a certain bike, derailleur issues feel like a breeze (tailwind, not a headwind).
The danger of optimistic statements like that above are that it makes our life here seem like it is constantly and ever-improving. While that may very generally be true from a zoomed out perspective, on the day-to-day and week-to-week, life quality fluctuates a lot.
We’re tired.
We’re hurting.
I resist the temptation to balance out the above with statements like “but the scenery is great!”, “it’s not like this all the time!” and “our hosts have been lovely!” All these things are true, but sometimes, days are still quite difficult.
I think about the duality of the people we encounter. There’s the kind souls who help us out, but then also drop a problematic comment. I remarked to my dad the other day that no one is completely good, or bad. My dad replied that the inclusion of “bad” in that statement is notable. Similarly, this experience is not completely good, or bad. Really, this trip transcends the arbitrary and binary idea of “goodness.” I firmly believe that difficulty improves me. A truly “good” experience must include some amount of things that would normally be labeled as “bad,” or at least “bad luck.”
I am here, in Kansas City Missouri, having the time of my life. I am also here, in Kansas City Missouri, doing the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
Now, before any readers (especially relatives) get concerned about my well-being, notice the use of “we” in all of the above statements. When texting with a friend, they remarked that in some sentences about the trip, I used “we” just as readily as “I/me.” Truly, the team becomes an organism of its own. This organism can have a bad day, even when an individual member is having a great day.
Now that we’ve got the requisite deep thoughts covered, here’s a summary of today:
We woke up relatively early today, because today was a teaching day! After a quick breakfast, we reorganized Ody to the 7-seat configuration, and set off to Kansas City’s aSTEAM Village. We were greeted by the counselors there, and set to work setting up for our lessons. Because of the number of students, we each were teaching two lessons back-to-back, concurrently with one or two other Spokes.
I wasn’t teaching until the afternoon, so I ran to the store in the morning to pick up the soda bottles needed for my water rockets, and grabbed some food for lunch. After a lunch of lunch meat (salami today!), clementines (fruit!) and hummus, I set up my lesson. My first group was 6th-9th graders, which is the oldest we’ve ever taught. I was a bit concerned they wouldn’t be as into the “craft” portion of building the rockets, but they dove in just as readily. The rocket that went the highest was wrapped in aluminum foil–maybe it reduced some of the drag? Maybe it was a confounding variable? Though the goal isn’t necessarily to create the rocket that goes the highest; the students get to decide what the goal of their rocket is.
The second group that I taught was 2nd-5th graders, which I’m much more accustomed to teaching. Teaching them went much similarly to previous teaching sessions.
I want to give a big shout out to aSTEAM Village. Their staff were phenomenal to work with, the students were great, and aSTEAM runs a great program.
Our poster! On the door!
After teaching finished, we all piled back into the car, and drove back to our hosts’ house. I settled down for a nap. Upon waking up, Timothy said that we were heading downtown. The Spokes returned to Ody, and drove to downtown Kansas City. We stopped by the WWI memorial, grabbed dinner, and once again, basked in the now-familiar oddity of being in a city.
The WW1 memorial (minus Vincent, who stumbled upon a talk in the museum that he wanted to attend)
When we all got back to the house, we found our host singing and playing guitar on the back porch. A few of us sat outside with him, and let ourselves be serenaded, interspersed with discussion between songs. I sat on the patio chair, my feet perched on the railing, my head looking up at the stars, as our host sang “Home on the Range” and the crickets chirped along. Contentment filled me, as I once again looked in wonder at the life we have here.
Onward,
Joel
A bit of contentment: taking a spontaneous break along the Indian Creek Trail (photo cred: Parth)
