Rustic Little Asylum

Over the Thanksgiving holiday Steve and I visited New Jersey. After our flight we had a few hours to kill and I didn't have anything planned. It wasn't enough time to go into NYC so I had to be creative! I decided to drive up to my high school and on the way is an abandoned mental hospital that I used to drive through to cut off morning traffic. As a precursor... when you are in high school and driving through the campus of an abandoned mental hospital on the way home from soccer practice when it's getting dark out and you are all alone in the car, it's terrifying. This time, it wasn't terrifying, but instead was super cool.

 I decided to do a bit of research on it, because I realized that no matter how many times I've driven through, I didn't really know anything about it. Alas, here is some awesome info on this odd NJ treasure: The official name of the hospital was the Essex County Asylum for the Insane and is apparently now closed to the public and persecutors or trespassers will be prosecuted (oops! but for all future explorers, explore my blog instead of the Asylum). At any given time in the 1940s and 50s, the Asylum would have thousands of residents (3,000 at one time), and even had its own stop on the railroad line so that the massive amount of coal and fuel needed to run the facility could be easily transported. The campus was referred to as a town within a town because they had everything they needed right there. They had a farm on the grounds where a majority of their food came from, they had a bakery, and they even had there own firehouse (which is still recognizable and awesome but I didn't get a chance to get a picture). After the introduction of new medicines and "wonder medicines" in the 1990s and 2000s the hospital enrollment quickly plummeted and it eventually shut down.

In the past decade or so, a visit to "The Asylum," "The Bin," or "The Hilltop" was considered a right of passage for some gangs and North Jersey teens. So I guess Steve and I are pretty tough and should probably form our own cool kids clique or something.

The multitude of visitors, stories of ghosts and escaped lunatics have cemented a local lore surrounding the Asylum and has solidified it as one of the most bad ass places to visit in NJ, in my opinion. The articles I read have photos of the insides of the buildings (no, I wasn't brave enough to go in) and they are still lined with decorated bulletin boards, patient charts, desks, constraining chairs, and even a piano. The insides look incredibly eery and I encourage you all to look up some photos and videos online.

It was the first time I actually stopped the car, got out, looked around, and took photos. Steve and I both thoroughly enjoyed the overgrown ivy and old, rusty equipment thrown around. Anyways, here are some photos from the day:

I'm a Social Worker

In the past two months I've met with prostitutes, transgenders, people sleeping under the bridge, people eating out of garbage cans, people with no family, people with no friends, people with no hope, severely mentally ill people, severely medically ill people, alcoholics, crack addicts, heroine addicts, people with bad luck, people who are fleeing domestic violence, people who trek all the way to come see me just for a $1.25 bus pass, people who are not ready to give up, and people who know there's more to life than what they've been living.

I am a social worker. Every day I meet with people that others have given up on. I meet with people who have sometimes given up on themselves. My job is to restore hope. My job is to help motivate them and to point them in the right direction. My job is to listen to their story when no one else will. My job is to be there for them when all they need to do is cry. My job is to spend hours on the phone making sure they can get employment, medical attention, food and housing. My job is to make sure that my 20-year-old client with a 7-month-old baby doesn't sleep on the street one more night. My job is to make sure that my crack-addicted alcoholic client doesn't sleep with one more man for a place to sleep.

But these things aren't listed in my job description. My job description is simple: Refer clients in crises to places that can assist them. But what does that entail? It's impossible to turn a blind eye to clients who come in and tell you they're living under the bridge with a 7-month-year old baby.

In social work, job descriptions don't matter because there are no words that can adequately describe what you do. You need to be well-versed in all mental illnesses so that you know how to approach people when they come into your office. You need to be able to be objective yet empathetic when someone tells you that they have lung cancer, kidney disease, liver disease and heart disease and they think every day is their last, however they don't have a bed to lay down in. You need to know how to talk to people in a way that says "I can't solve all of your problems, but I damn sure am gonna try."

You need to know how to motivate people who keep getting turned down for job after job because they made the mistake of not going to college. You need to be able to enforce that it's never too late to start your life over or make your existing life a life that you look forward to living.

You need to be able to give up your lunch or your daytime snack to someone who has a rumbling stomach throughout your whole session. You need to be able to give up your last $10 in your purse to a street musician who makes a living off of playing guitar on Bourbon Street but doesn't have the $8 to fix his guitar strings. You need to be able to change one of the worst days of someone's life into one that isn't so bad.

I'm aware that I'm a social worker. But that's not all I am. In the past two months I've taken on the role of best friend, shoulder to cry on, family, guardian angel, and glimpse of hope. I've given people the will power to become self-sufficient, to believe in themselves, and to realize that no matter what happened in the past, the future is still unwritten. Sometimes all homeless people need is a little shove, and I would like to think I've done a whole lot of pushing.

Happy 24th to the best of the best

This may or may not be the cheesiest post I've ever written, but that's a chance I'm willing to take. Today is my best friend's 24th birthday and I want to celebrate 20 years of friendship.

I am blessed enough to have so many amazing, loyal friends, but Ms. Caitlin McSherry takes the cake (haha, get it? cake. it's your birthday). For 20 years she has been by my side helping me get through tough situations, family problems, heartbreaks, etc. For 20 years she has been making me laugh and adding constant joy.

For the past five years we have been in a long distance friendship, but her loyalty and charismatic spirit have yet to falter. She has visited me in every obscure place I've moved too (even if she had to fly out in a blizzard and stay for less than 36 hours) and supported every crazy dream I've had.

 

She is also a part of my favorite memories. From dancing on the boardwalk and making complete fools of ourselves, to getting in trouble at 2:00 in the morning for calling boys in elementary school(shout out to MC and TP), to going on family vacations together, to sharing Christmas mornings together, I can truly say you are my second sister (and my whole family agrees).

 

Even if you do feed me syrup-covered ants I will always love you and be thankful for you. You are my rock and have kept me sane through the years. Happy 24th birthday--here's to many, many more years of a perfect friendship.

Boop!

Employed, employed, employed!

Finding a job in this job market is hard. Finding a job that you actually want is even harder. I am happy to say that I acquired my first big girl job in a field that I love and couldn't be more excited. Literally.

These past few months have been touch and go. I've had days where I thought I was going to pull my hair out, which I convinced myself was OK because I have more hair than any human should have, so I could spare some. My stress level was through the roof due to my lack of a bank account and lack of a future job. I knew that when my year with AmeriCorps was over on August 23, I had no plans. I also had no money saved. No money in my back account + No plans of how to bring in money = An emotional and frustrated  Cat that you do not want to be around. I would cry at miniscule things and have emotional breakdowns out of nowhere (sorry Steve).

But I've learned that perseverance and networking are your best friends. Luckily the homeless Continuum of Care in New Orleans is a great place to network. Unfortunately, there are not a lot of job openings in the Continuum, which is the tricky part. Since May I have been talking to directors and staff of other agencies who I knew, and introducing myself to everyone I didn't know (we fund more than 60 agencies, so you can imagine how many people I was constantly trying to talk to), just so I could try to get my foot in the door of their agency. Everyone's response to me was the same: They appreciated me and would love to have me on their team, but there were no job openings.

My motivation was low, and my self-confidence was shrinking more and more by the day. I had applied to every journalism and nonprofit job in New Orleans that I was qualified for and nothing came from it. But just last week I decided to email a really, really powerful person in New Orleans when it comes to homelessness. I have been in a few meetings with her, but never actually spoke to her directly. But I decided, what the heck, there's nothing to lose. So I sent her an overly friendly email, reminding her who I was, and asked her if she knew of any job openings. Alas, she forwarded my email to the director of Travelers Aid with a simple, "Cat meet so-and-so, and vice versa."  That was on Friday. An interview was set for Monday. I was offered the job on Tuesday. It all seemed surreal. For months I had been busting my  ass to get a job... could the process really have been this easy? Apparently yes. My references raved about me and other people in the Continuum told her I would be a great employee. So my instigating and networking finally payed off.

Now, for the job. The Veterans Administration in New Orleans is opening a new drop-in center for homeless people. Basically, this is a place where homeless people can go, without an appointment, to receive services. They can get their laundry done, get help with employment, etc. My job is a case worker with the crisis intervention team of Travelers Aid. Basically, homeless people and people at risk of becoming homeless come in to the center without an appointment, tell me their story, I evaluate what they need and what will A) prevent their homelessness, or B) get them out of homelessness. This could entail getting them into our employment program to help them get a job, referring them to agencies with rental assistance, etc.

I'm super excited because I'm going to get client interaction everyday. I am so grateful for what my current agency has done for me by training me and networking me and sculpting me into a respected social worker (without a social work degree), however I was missing the direct service aspect that I longed for. Now I get to experience that on a daily basis. I'll get to be doing what I love while earning an actual salary and benefits. I. am. blessed.

Thanks everyone for supporting me this year, especially my parents (who were there to offer me much needed love and financial support), my sister (who is my rock and although she is slightly insane, she has a way of keeping me sane), and my boyfriend (who has mastered the "tough love" technique and has taught me that sucking it up and dealing with things is a lot more efficient than sulking).

I'm so looking forward to this blog turning into something that I've always wanted it to be: filled with stories of the beautiful people of New Orleans, homeless and not homeless. Character and charisma are about to fill the blog posts to come and I hope you'll continue reading.

Until next time.

Frustrations

I have a new-found respect for small business owners. As most of you know, I recently opened my own online shop. Although I've had some success, it hasn't been nearly enough to be satisfied with. I've been stressed, I've been frustrated, and I've already had an emotional breakdown (or two). So I've come to the conclusion that starting up your own company is HARD. Hats off to all of the entrepreneurs of the world. And great, big sombreros off to the successful entrepreneurs.

Sure, I'm pretty good at taking pictures. But I'm marketing to an age bracket that doesn't really buy photographs. They admire them, and will compliment me on them, but they don't really need them.

So I started making signs. Alas, some success! I sold some signs. But then the success was done.

So then I thought, iPhone cases! Ah ha! And again, I have gotten tons of compliments, but not too many sales.

So my grandma gave me the idea of selling stationary--so I've started selling blank note cards with my photos on the front. I even have fancy customizable stationary. See, if you have a mom who is anything like mom, she would have made you write a thank you note before you were allowed to use any present you received growing up. Although this was an awesome thing to drill into my brain, I know a lot of people my age don't use snail mail anymore--e-mail and Facebook is where it's at. And that kind of upsets me. It's so much more fun to get something addressed to you--to know that someone was thinking of you enough that they took time out of the day to mail you a note. To me, that's awesome. But that's a lost generation.

So this is what I've decided: I'm going to continue to try to market to people I know until my shop gets bigger and more renowned. I know I'm going to fail a lot, so sorry if you see my countless attempts in your news feed. But I think perseverance is a key factor in entrepreneurship.

Also, I'm definitely not ungrateful. I greatly appreciate all of your compliments and well wishes in this new project. Please keep spreading the word!

Also, also, go check out my stuff!: http://www.etsy.com/shop/lovelaughterlenses

The final days

It seems like I've lived in New Orleans for ten years, and on the other hand it seems like I've lived in New Orleans for two weeks. This has been the longest, shortest year of my life and I am in such denial that my year in AmeriCorps is ending in two days. TWO DAYS. I vividly remember conversations last summer telling people about how I got the job in New Orleans, and telling them all about what I was going to be doing. And now, it's all over.

When I say that it feels like it's been ten years since I've been here, it's because so much has happened since last August that I can't believe that it could all possibly fit into one year. I met great friends, I lived in an apartment, I met a wonderful man, I moved out of said apartment and moved in with said wonderful man, I had friends come visit, I suffered the loss of a friend, I witnessed a hurricane here, my hometown experienced a devastating hurricane, I visited JMU (twice), I visited Jersey (three times), my mom came to visit, I experienced Superbowl AND Mardi Gras in New Orleans, I walked through sketchy neighborhoods, I got a car, my car broke down, I ate more crawfish than I care to describe, I collected more beads than most people will in their lifetime, I've gone to San Antonio (twice) and Pensacola (twice), and to top it all off, I helped the homeless population of New Orleans. ALL IN A YEAR.

There is so much I've learned this past year--some blatantly obvious lessons that have been reinforced, and some new lessons. I'd like to share the five most important ones.

1. Don't be afraid to move to places you've never been.
Now I don't just mean don't be afraid to visit places you've never been--anyone can take a vacation. I'm saying don't be afraid to MOVE to new places. Experience new cultures, meet new people, live freely. I got the job in New Orleans about three weeks before I moved here. I had no idea I was going to be moving here. To be honest, I don't even remember applying to a place in New Orleans. I remember applying to Nashville, but not New Orleans. But when I got the call from UNITY for an interview, and a follow-up call saying I got the job, I decided what the hell, I'm going for it. The night before I left for orientation in Atlanta, my mind was racing. I almost had an anxiety attack about not knowing where I was going, not having any furniture in my apartment, not having any friends, not having a car, and not having any money. It was terrifying. But I decided if I didn't do it, I was going to regret it. So I moved, all by myself, to a city I've never been to, just hoping for the best. Luckily it worked out better than I could have imagined. And hey, if you move somewhere and you don't like it, then move back. It's not the end of the world.

2. Friends will visit you where ever you are.
Good friends don't care where you move, they will find a way to see you. So many of my friends came to visit this year--more than I expected. I know I had the appeal of Mardi Gras, but I know they would have come otherwise! I also had friends come visit twice (shout out to Des and Jackie), which is just amazing. And even if your friends can't afford to come visit you, they will find a way to see you or keep in touch. Exhibit A: my wonderful guy friends couldn't take time off to come visit me (besides Justin) so they pooled their money together to pay for my flight to JMU. And shout out to Colleen for driving to JMU to see me for less than twelve hours between her work shifts. Moral of the story: Friends are incredible. Keep the best ones by your side. It's definitely better to have a few great friends than a ton of decent friends--luckily I've been blessed to have a lot of great friends.

3. Money doesn't buy happiness...
And if it does, then I'm screwed. This year I made a salary that people would literally cringe at: $399 every two weeks. The question I got most often was "Was your room and board provided?" because people couldn't believe that I was able to pay rent and live off of about $800 a month. But no, my room and board was not provided. This was the money we had to live off, plus food stamps if you opted to apply for those. So as you can imagine, I didn't have much money for luxuries. Because of these, I realized that I can be completely happy without needing to spend a lot of money. This means I went out a lot less than I used to, but that also means that I got to stay home and spend time with my boyfriend more. Less money and tons of fun. It's a win-win. What is a bummer is that when I would run into emergencies, such as flying home after Hurricane Sandy hit to be with my family or pay for my broken down car, I wouldn't have enough money to accommodate. However, if you are as lucky as I've been, things will always find a way of working out. The most fun I've had this year required no money--like walking the nature trail, attending crawfish boils, going to the Marine Corps Ball (which wouldn't have been free if I didn't have such generous friends and a boyfriend, hint hint Tracy, Ben and Steve), going to parades and festivals, serving the homeless population, exploring the city, and hanging out at home.

4. No matter how far away you travel, your home will always be your home.
When I think of this, I think of both New Jersey and JMU being my homes. I visited each place multiple times this year, and each time I went back it felt like nothing changed, and I just belonged. One of my favorite lyrics ever written is from "Lost In My Mind" by The Head and the Heart: "Momma once told me, you're already home where you feel loved." I couldn't agree with this more. When I go to Lavallette or JMU, I love that people get excited to see me, and I love getting excited to see people. Sure I love the places, but it's the people that make it as wonderful as it. Not to mention they're both beautiful places, which helps a bit. And although I love New Orleans, I know it's not my home. It doesn't feel like my home. I love living here, but I know when I go to Lavallette or JMU, I'm home.

5. Changing lives will change your life.
I've always had a soft spot for serving, and I knew I always wanted to do it. If you've known me for a few years, you would know that I used to want to be in the Peace Corps, however because of my love for my family, friends, and ability to travel home, I put that dream on hold. AmeriCorps was my next option. I knew last summer that I didn't want to start a big girl job yet. I wanted to help. I wanted to serve. I didn't really care where, but I wanted to be in a place that needed me. When I came here, I knew I made the right choice. I learned so much about homelessness, especially New Orleans homelessness. I've learned so much about Hurricane Katrina, which before I came here, was just a storm, and now it's "The Storm" that people talk about on a regular basis, even eight years later. I've learned that this city had a lot of homelessness before The Storm, and after The Storm, it was one of the cities in America with the most homelessness, despite being such a small city (population 360,740). I've learned that out of all the cities in America, I'm so, so overwhelmingly happy that I was sent here. When I first moved here I painted a quote on my wall that describes it perfectly: "I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I've ended up where I've needed to be."

It's impossible to explain my Americorps experience in one blog post, as I could ramble on forever. I'm so grateful that I had this opportunity. The connections I've made I know I will have for the rest of my life. The interactions I've had, especially with some specific homeless people, I will never forget, even if they have no recollection of talking to me. My life has been forever changed, and I have so many people I owe that to. Thank you to everyone for being a part of my life this year, and always, no matter how small of a part you've played. Believe me, I've treasured it.