1, 10, 100, The World

"I want to start a mentoring program." I have been saying this for 5 years. There are notes, there were conversations, still no program.

Today I decided on a new approach. How many children do I really want to mentor at one time? I took a piece of paper and folded it into four sections. I labeled the sections 1, 10, 100 and The World. I wrote bullet points in section 1 for what I needed to help just one child. How many people do I need to be mentors? Where will we meet? I stayed away from theories and documentation. Next, how could I help ten children? When I got to one hundred, I found myself only able to write negatives, what could go wrong. The World section produced more negatives. OK, now I know where to start.

My first thought for mentoring one child was "what's the point?" I skipped passed it and moved to the 10 box. That seemed like a comfortable start. I began to list the requirements. I will need ten mentors. I will need a place. That's when I stopped and put my notes to the side. Baby steps. 

It was a few days later that I came back to the one-child idea. I could be that mentor. Why not? Wait, better idea. I could go mentor a child at the high school in my district (students in my school get me five days a week already and they are a bit young for what I'm envisioning). Wait! Even better idea! I could go back to my old high school and mentor a child.

The ball is now rolling, not only in my head but on paper. I could connect with some alumni and we could mentor a few kids. A few years back I had spoken to an old high school friend about mentoring. He was interested in working with young men in the community. And my old neighborhood keeps showing up on the news. This morning a 9-year-old was shot in the head only two blocks from my childhood home. Maybe this was a sign that my old neighborhood, the inspiration for this mission, needed to be first on the list. I can speak to this population. I actually lived there.

I do worry about what people might think about me for leaving the old area that I grew up and not returning for 20 years. After a few years in the dormitories, I moved to the other side of town and have stayed. I visit the old streets that I was raised rarely. I guess I will just have to include that in my story. It is true. I left because I didn't feel a part of things. I was a nerd and a lesbian in training. Life in an urban Black neighborhood was not a place of comfort for me. So I stayed away because of sour memories. But this is what haunts me. I know there are other children who are struggling with that environment that doesn't manage to embrace everyone. No neighborhood does. If those kid could just see an alternative, like I did, they could make things better for themselves. If they could bond with someone that had faced the challenges that they are dealing with, whatever those challenges are, they would not feel so alone. In any case, I will work through that scenario.

Note to self - the words "return" and"circle" need to be included in the mission statement. That's another project for another day. To me, it's a chicken situation - which comes first, the outline or the mission statement? I look forward to the challenge.