There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you" - Maya Angelou
CSOS: Carolina Summer of Service
For rising sophomores in the BN Duke scholarship program, CSOS is the chance to better understand ourselves, our home states, and the ways we fit into our world. We've come to a new place, and we've been welcomed into the Gullah Geechee community. We are here to learn, both about the poignant social issues shaping our world and the role we can play in impacting the future. We are here to serve. And we are here to grow, as individuals and as a community of friends.
For rising sophomores in the BN Duke scholarship program, CSOS is the chance to better understand ourselves, our home states, and the ways we fit into our world. We've come to a new place, and we've been welcomed into the Gullah Geechee community. We are here to learn, both about the poignant social issues shaping our world and the role we can play in impacting the future. We are here to serve. And we are here to grow, as individuals and as a community of friends.
Who Am I?
At nineteen years old, I've realized this question deserves a much greater answer than I can ever give it. My name is Logan. I am a daughter, a sister, and a friend. I am a student and a scholar, an (ex?)basketball player and a runner. I'm silly. I'm sarcastic. I think too much. Sometimes, I'm more at home with kids than with people my own age, and I'm fascinated by growth and development and the entire process of change. I like to play in the mud. I dream too big and I fall in love too fast and I wouldn't change if I could.
In less than two decades, life's been kind enough to show me all kinds of adventures. I've lived in six houses and three cities and two states. I've got a family who loves me, which I'd argue is an adventure within itself. I've hugged Mickey Mouse and Belle, run up the Andes Mountains, ridden by dog-sled atop an Alaskan glacier, slept under a smoking volcano, seen the Coliseum, and walked the eerie streets of Pompeii. I've been blessed to see both the dazzling pinnacle of society, and some of the most impoverished, lonely places in our world. I've held the hand of hospital patients, alone after surgery, and listened to them talk about the children they missed and the loved ones they wanted to see just one more time. I've watched 10-cent toys transform impoverished school yards into amusement parks, and winced at the truth of how little it takes to make a difference, while knowing how little difference I've ever made or may ever make. I've rocked and held and loved children I knew would never speak or walk or even know my name. I've cried over problems so deeply entrenched and inherent in society I don't know how any one person could help make a change. And I've laughed, too, because that always seems to work better than tears. I've seen the world at it's worst and it's best; I know the dichotomy; and I know my place is in both worlds and in between, helping transform one into the other - whatever that might mean. And somehow, all these adventures have led me to Duke University, to a BN family dedicated to the same love of humanity, in all its forms, that's come to define how I look at the world each day. I look to the past, and it propels me into the future. There's infinitely more to do and to learn, and even though I don't know quite where I'm headed, I know I'm on my way.
My story is just staring. There's so much more to write, and so much more to understand even about the pages that have already been written. But whatever comes next, I know I've had the privilege of writing this life for myself, and that's something unique. I was born excited, thrilled with the littlest adventure, and always seeking to go my own way. I've been blessed with the opportunities to chase dreams freely, to pursue a top-notch education, and to travel in order to understand the world. And I choose to perceive change as positive (no matter how against my first instincts that may be) in order to find the good in every new place I go.
Today, that new place is the little town of Georgetown, SC. I'm just embarking on a summer lovingly referred to by BNs as "CSOS" - the Carolina Summer of Service. It's a chance to explore our roots, and a chance to more deeply understand and give back to the place we come from. But as I start delving into my work here, I've realized it's so important to start by asking: Where am I? Why am I really here? And what good can I actually accomplish?
At nineteen years old, I've realized this question deserves a much greater answer than I can ever give it. My name is Logan. I am a daughter, a sister, and a friend. I am a student and a scholar, an (ex?)basketball player and a runner. I'm silly. I'm sarcastic. I think too much. Sometimes, I'm more at home with kids than with people my own age, and I'm fascinated by growth and development and the entire process of change. I like to play in the mud. I dream too big and I fall in love too fast and I wouldn't change if I could.
In less than two decades, life's been kind enough to show me all kinds of adventures. I've lived in six houses and three cities and two states. I've got a family who loves me, which I'd argue is an adventure within itself. I've hugged Mickey Mouse and Belle, run up the Andes Mountains, ridden by dog-sled atop an Alaskan glacier, slept under a smoking volcano, seen the Coliseum, and walked the eerie streets of Pompeii. I've been blessed to see both the dazzling pinnacle of society, and some of the most impoverished, lonely places in our world. I've held the hand of hospital patients, alone after surgery, and listened to them talk about the children they missed and the loved ones they wanted to see just one more time. I've watched 10-cent toys transform impoverished school yards into amusement parks, and winced at the truth of how little it takes to make a difference, while knowing how little difference I've ever made or may ever make. I've rocked and held and loved children I knew would never speak or walk or even know my name. I've cried over problems so deeply entrenched and inherent in society I don't know how any one person could help make a change. And I've laughed, too, because that always seems to work better than tears. I've seen the world at it's worst and it's best; I know the dichotomy; and I know my place is in both worlds and in between, helping transform one into the other - whatever that might mean. And somehow, all these adventures have led me to Duke University, to a BN family dedicated to the same love of humanity, in all its forms, that's come to define how I look at the world each day. I look to the past, and it propels me into the future. There's infinitely more to do and to learn, and even though I don't know quite where I'm headed, I know I'm on my way.
My story is just staring. There's so much more to write, and so much more to understand even about the pages that have already been written. But whatever comes next, I know I've had the privilege of writing this life for myself, and that's something unique. I was born excited, thrilled with the littlest adventure, and always seeking to go my own way. I've been blessed with the opportunities to chase dreams freely, to pursue a top-notch education, and to travel in order to understand the world. And I choose to perceive change as positive (no matter how against my first instincts that may be) in order to find the good in every new place I go.
Today, that new place is the little town of Georgetown, SC. I'm just embarking on a summer lovingly referred to by BNs as "CSOS" - the Carolina Summer of Service. It's a chance to explore our roots, and a chance to more deeply understand and give back to the place we come from. But as I start delving into my work here, I've realized it's so important to start by asking: Where am I? Why am I really here? And what good can I actually accomplish?
Where Am I?
Georgetown, SC, is a town steeped in history - acutely aware of each subtlety of its past, and determined to preserve history as truth. But Georgetown has two histories. Each is told from different a perspective, rooted in a racial and socioeconomic divide that persists today, over one hundred years past emancipation.
In one version, Georgetown proudly identifies as the legacy of a flourishing English port, famous for it's exports of indigo and rice. Beginning in the early 1700s, white settlers immigrated across the Atlantic and established successful plantations here, profiting immensely. They built Georgetown from nothing into a world-renowned trading partner, and today, their great-grandchildren look at the historic waterfront and antebellum homes as relics of hard work, entrepreneurship, and success.
But this is a city of two tales. Georgetown undeniably also owes it's success to the knowledge, skills, expertise, and labor of Africans, none of whom arrived here by their own choice. The cultivation of rice, especially, was only possible due to the prowess of these slaves, transported across the Atlantic in shackles. From this perspective, the success of Georgetown dims, offering only bittersweet memories of skill and worth, coupled with the systematic abuse of an entire race - unjustified and inexcusable.
Georgetown encompasses both stories. It's history is incomplete without the telling of either one. However, the social realities of today (thanks to a whole lot of misguided yesterdays), have left one story largely ignored - the prowess, plight, and persisting struggle of the Gullah Geechee African American community here. The town treads carefully along unspoken lines, craving change, yet unsure how to reach it. The wounds are deep, the injustice all too often extremely personal, and the path to healing anything but clear. Yet it is critical to acknowledge this brokenness - to empathize with Georgetown's complete history, and to work to bridge the gaping holes in society, without trying to patch them up or ignore their existence.
Recently, the Gullah Geechee population of Georgetown has made it's presence known. Local leaders are claiming ownership of the history that led their ancestors here, and are actively working toward a better future. The Gullah speech pattern, once looked down upon as a "backwards" dialect, is now formally recognized as unique language. A nationally recognized cultural heritage corridor commission has officially been established. Being "Gullah" or "Geechee" is no longer a slur, but a source of pride.
These small steps toward empowerment are just a beginning. Poverty persists, interchangeably intertwined with both racism and Georgetown's complex, two-sided history. But, however gradually, change is coming. Georgetown is grappling with it's past. Some moments are uncomfortable, some moments indescribably beautiful, yet they all point to progress. Where am I? I'm in Georgetown, a coastal South Carolina town that's changing everyday, slowly weaving its way to a unified community, with a single understanding of a once divided past.
Georgetown, SC, is a town steeped in history - acutely aware of each subtlety of its past, and determined to preserve history as truth. But Georgetown has two histories. Each is told from different a perspective, rooted in a racial and socioeconomic divide that persists today, over one hundred years past emancipation.
In one version, Georgetown proudly identifies as the legacy of a flourishing English port, famous for it's exports of indigo and rice. Beginning in the early 1700s, white settlers immigrated across the Atlantic and established successful plantations here, profiting immensely. They built Georgetown from nothing into a world-renowned trading partner, and today, their great-grandchildren look at the historic waterfront and antebellum homes as relics of hard work, entrepreneurship, and success.
But this is a city of two tales. Georgetown undeniably also owes it's success to the knowledge, skills, expertise, and labor of Africans, none of whom arrived here by their own choice. The cultivation of rice, especially, was only possible due to the prowess of these slaves, transported across the Atlantic in shackles. From this perspective, the success of Georgetown dims, offering only bittersweet memories of skill and worth, coupled with the systematic abuse of an entire race - unjustified and inexcusable.
Georgetown encompasses both stories. It's history is incomplete without the telling of either one. However, the social realities of today (thanks to a whole lot of misguided yesterdays), have left one story largely ignored - the prowess, plight, and persisting struggle of the Gullah Geechee African American community here. The town treads carefully along unspoken lines, craving change, yet unsure how to reach it. The wounds are deep, the injustice all too often extremely personal, and the path to healing anything but clear. Yet it is critical to acknowledge this brokenness - to empathize with Georgetown's complete history, and to work to bridge the gaping holes in society, without trying to patch them up or ignore their existence.
Recently, the Gullah Geechee population of Georgetown has made it's presence known. Local leaders are claiming ownership of the history that led their ancestors here, and are actively working toward a better future. The Gullah speech pattern, once looked down upon as a "backwards" dialect, is now formally recognized as unique language. A nationally recognized cultural heritage corridor commission has officially been established. Being "Gullah" or "Geechee" is no longer a slur, but a source of pride.
These small steps toward empowerment are just a beginning. Poverty persists, interchangeably intertwined with both racism and Georgetown's complex, two-sided history. But, however gradually, change is coming. Georgetown is grappling with it's past. Some moments are uncomfortable, some moments indescribably beautiful, yet they all point to progress. Where am I? I'm in Georgetown, a coastal South Carolina town that's changing everyday, slowly weaving its way to a unified community, with a single understanding of a once divided past.
What Am I Doing?
Why do I belong in a place like this? Georgetown puts a lot of emphasis on where people come from. There are "been'yuhs" and there are "com'yuhs." I am most definitely a "com'yah." I'm not Gullah Geechee, I'm not African American, I'm not from Georgetown, and I'm not even from South Carolina. Sometimes, I'm amazed that they invited me here, and almost constantly, I wonder if I'll actually be able to do any good in just ten weeks, starting as an outsider in such a tight-knit community.
Yet despite all my own fears and doubts, I have two internships lined up, two chances to work with and for the people of Georgetown, and I'm ready to give this opportunity my whole heart and everything I have to offer.
Four days a week, I'll be working with Plantersville Academy, a summer program designed for students in kindergarten through the ninth grade. Summer vacation, with all it's sunshine and freedom, often leads to "summer slide" - a significant loss of academic skills. Statistically, children of lower socioeconomic classes lose more skills over the summer than their more affluent peers, causing an escalating achievement gap that puts financially disadvantaged children at a major scholastic disadvantage before the end of elementary school. Plantersville is working diligently to nullify and even reverse this trend, by providing engaging and enriching experiences throughout the summer months. My work will primarily be with the kindergarten and first grade students, honing early reading and math skills in a small group setting, while playing games and making sure learning always stays fun. It's everything I love: children, development, and the chance to become a part of community in just about the most genuine way I can imagine. Maybe I won't make a large-scale difference for all of Georgetown, but I have the opportunity to make a real an impact for a couple of kids. That's something. Children are undoubtedly the foundation for all other change. It's just a little step forward, based on a lot of love. That's why I'm here.
As for my second internship, I'll be working all day Fridays and every evening with The Mitney Project, an organization working in the West End of Georgetown to foster community, while assessing needs and implementing programs designed to innovate positive change. Mitney is more outside my comfort zone and more deeply entrenched in Georgetown - a perfect compliment to Plantersville - and I'm excited for the challenge it poses. I'm assigned to a canvassing project, going door to door to interview and to understand, and I'm assigned to try to use technology to revamp the process - making people more accessible even through non-human means. It's different, and I can't wait to see where it takes me. I'm hoping - just maybe - that somewhere among the houses of West End, there's an encounter or an opportunity that I'll reflect on at the end of the summer and realize, "that, too, was why I ended up here."
Georgetown is new to me, and I am new to Georgetown. There's so much more for me to learn from this community and this town, so much this place can add to my story. I've got ten weeks - ten weeks to work, to love, to listen, to try to serve - ten weeks to take in all that Georgetown has to offer.
#CSOS2014
Georgetown, here we come!
Why do I belong in a place like this? Georgetown puts a lot of emphasis on where people come from. There are "been'yuhs" and there are "com'yuhs." I am most definitely a "com'yah." I'm not Gullah Geechee, I'm not African American, I'm not from Georgetown, and I'm not even from South Carolina. Sometimes, I'm amazed that they invited me here, and almost constantly, I wonder if I'll actually be able to do any good in just ten weeks, starting as an outsider in such a tight-knit community.
Yet despite all my own fears and doubts, I have two internships lined up, two chances to work with and for the people of Georgetown, and I'm ready to give this opportunity my whole heart and everything I have to offer.
Four days a week, I'll be working with Plantersville Academy, a summer program designed for students in kindergarten through the ninth grade. Summer vacation, with all it's sunshine and freedom, often leads to "summer slide" - a significant loss of academic skills. Statistically, children of lower socioeconomic classes lose more skills over the summer than their more affluent peers, causing an escalating achievement gap that puts financially disadvantaged children at a major scholastic disadvantage before the end of elementary school. Plantersville is working diligently to nullify and even reverse this trend, by providing engaging and enriching experiences throughout the summer months. My work will primarily be with the kindergarten and first grade students, honing early reading and math skills in a small group setting, while playing games and making sure learning always stays fun. It's everything I love: children, development, and the chance to become a part of community in just about the most genuine way I can imagine. Maybe I won't make a large-scale difference for all of Georgetown, but I have the opportunity to make a real an impact for a couple of kids. That's something. Children are undoubtedly the foundation for all other change. It's just a little step forward, based on a lot of love. That's why I'm here.
As for my second internship, I'll be working all day Fridays and every evening with The Mitney Project, an organization working in the West End of Georgetown to foster community, while assessing needs and implementing programs designed to innovate positive change. Mitney is more outside my comfort zone and more deeply entrenched in Georgetown - a perfect compliment to Plantersville - and I'm excited for the challenge it poses. I'm assigned to a canvassing project, going door to door to interview and to understand, and I'm assigned to try to use technology to revamp the process - making people more accessible even through non-human means. It's different, and I can't wait to see where it takes me. I'm hoping - just maybe - that somewhere among the houses of West End, there's an encounter or an opportunity that I'll reflect on at the end of the summer and realize, "that, too, was why I ended up here."
Georgetown is new to me, and I am new to Georgetown. There's so much more for me to learn from this community and this town, so much this place can add to my story. I've got ten weeks - ten weeks to work, to love, to listen, to try to serve - ten weeks to take in all that Georgetown has to offer.
#CSOS2014
Georgetown, here we come!
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.”
- T. S. Elliot