http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bqOO1o0JFQY 
When I stepped onto the plane on February 17, 2008 I was not aware of what I was moving towards, my mind was overwhelmed with intransigent, selfish worries. What if my cell phone doesn’t work there?
Why did I have to leave on my 16th birthday? What am I getting myself into? My views, engrossed by these pessimistic thoughts, disappeared the second I stepped off the plane and I have yet to see them since. A long, bumpy, ride and we had arrived. It may sound cliché, but from the second I walked into “Mama Heaven’s” home, where I would be living for the next week, I knew I would never be the same.
Our mission was to clean up their community, but my mission was to change this community the way they had changed me. We spent our time cleaning up parks and tutoring the children at local schools. The school I remember most vividly was the Petersfield Primary School.
We were in Petersfield, Jamaica, West Indies; living in a community where running water was destitute and electricity was a commodity, the incessant smiles and happiness may come as a shock. Did they not like us or were they just afraid or our differences? What could I do to get these kids to trust me and understand I was just there to help them? All it took was a formal introduction before over a hundred kids were surrounding us giving huge hugs. These children ran to us with open arms, yet submersed in bewilderment by our presence. Who were we? We were an intimidating group of Caucasians.
I was shocked at the children’s ability to welcome us without the slightest bit of bias. After the first initial greeting was over, looked down to see that this was only the beginning of an amazing journey.
His name was Demar and he was five years old. He wouldn’t let go of my hand. I looked at him, and in his eyes I saw an empty sadness. He took me to his classroom. With a look of confusion, I pointed to a belt on the teacher’s desk. “She hittin’ us when we bad.” Before I could fully grasp the implications, the bell rang—recess time! This was the students’ escape from the brutal conditions in the classroom. Looking around, I saw smiling, ecstatic kids and tons of vibrant, exquisite flowers; however, there that exuberant image was littered with garbage. Literally. The field was the liberation from the classroom, yet it was completely covered with garbage. Despite this, the children walked barefoot among the trash and flowers, seemingly oblivious to the differences.
So I put on my gardening gloves and spent the next three hours picking up trash. Suddenly, I was in shock. Yes, about the work I had to do, but also about the dynamic of the field. From the second they ran out of their classrooms, the kids had become animals, violent animals, each trying to out do the other. Why were they acting like this? Was it something they observed and picked up on or was this how they were taught to survive and be strong? My goal: teach the children how to embrace one another through compassion and ardent friendships, and stress the dangers of violence.
I was recently reviewing the journal of my time at the Petersfield Primary School in Jamaica, West Indies. Interestingly, I came across a quote by Pico Iyer. “We travel, initially to lose ourselves; and we travel, next, to find ourselves.” During my travels, I lost an ignorant part of myself that was unaware of certain unpleasant circumstances that exist in the world. I also found a part of myself that I will take with me in my future. I will bring a degree of sensitivity to understand differences and improve people’s circumstances. I will bring a breadth and depth of perspective that I will use to explore, serve, and understand the individuals and the community that comprise this world. As strangers, the Petersfield community opened their arms to us and I will open my arms to others throughout the world. I will never let go of the memories and knowledge I achieved by reaching out to people and connecting through education.
This narrative on my experience is written through my own adventures and encounters. By embedding the pictures throughout the text, the reader has the ability to visualize my experiences with their own opinions and judgments. The explicit comparison and contrast between the two cultures I lived through is seen through the pictures to further clarify the disparities read within the text. The order and combination of the images strengthen the comparison. The manifested images help the reader feel as if they are seeing what I saw. Working together, the narrative and the images help to describe each other more effectively. The images I included throughout this post add to the expansion of idiosyncratic views, which would not be possible with either the text alone or the images alone. The pictures serve to emphasize the happiness and emotions associated with the community. However, the text further accentuates the ephemeral smiles even during times of hardship. As a semic code, my position throughout the narrative is changing. Initially, I did not reveal the motives and location of my trip, evoking a sense of confusion within the reader. The role of the images is to induce sympathy and compassion throughout the reader. On the contrary, the role of the narration is to tell the story of my journey. By juxtaposing the two points of view, I was hoping the reader to see my experiences through their own eyes.
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