These jackets, however, are more than labels for do-gooders. The jacket – my own red jacket – represents the commitment I and hundreds of others have made to the students in our public education system.

On Thursday, June 16, my teammate from the Haley Pilot Elementary School Susan Yoon and I addressed the 2010-2011 City Year Boston corps.  As the graduation speakers elected to represent the corps, we reflected on our year of service, the impact we have made in our community, the personal growth we’ve been fortunate to experience, and where this year can take us.  It was a powerful moment, and I felt tremendously proud to represent this strong, accomplished group of individuals.  Below is a transcript of our speech:

City Year Boston 2010-2011 Graduation Speech 

Written and presented by Susan Yoon and James Koved

[Susan] :

This time of year, people often say “Congratulations!” when they hear of what you’ve done.  There’s a pause.  And you smile demurely and say “Thank you”, accepting the polite word. But what that moment encompasses, that pause after congratulations, is not merely a second’s worth of time, it’s a year’s worth.  It’s 1,700 hours worth.  And in that moment, you remember your year of service: the early mornings, the late nights, the heartbreaking setbacks, and your incredible achievements.

[James] :

In that pause, you recognize that you were among a select group of remarkable leaders chosen for this experience.  Arriving in Boston from the west coast ten months ago, and laid flat by August’s humid heat, I can now say I’ve seen and trekked through all the seasons.  Fall leaves were new, snow was new.  It was a risk, a chance, that I took, and I think we all took, in deciding to come here for the year, prioritizing this over all other ambitions. That leap alone has provided opportunities for personal growth – be it in learning the intricacies of the MBTA or the ins and outs of layering heavy coats.

I knew I liked to lead, but at City Year, I learned that I was a detail-oriented west (and, in fact, that the leadership compass existed at all), and that the most successful teams draw upon each direction’s strengths.  I learned how a hedgehog accepts feedback (answer: approach them slowly, helpfully, and in an understanding manner), how to avoid false choices, and was inspired by the life story and lessons from global leaders like former ambassador Swannee Hunt.  City Year illustrated the potential of civic engagement the very first time we worked as a whole corps to revitalize the JFK elementary school.  Standing in the rain with an electric hedgetrimmer, I felt empowered (and damp).  In that moment, seeing people mulch and tape and paint, national service became very real – look at what 140 young people can do in an afternoon!  It changed me, and my perception of what we are capable of accomplishing.

Our work in school has been a source of personal development as well.  To watch highly adept teachers teach for a year is nothing short of eye opening.  My ability to interact with youth has improved tremendously in ways from the small mannerisms and behavior management style I use with students to my larger perception of the state of American education.  No amount of anecdotes or literature could have impressed upon me the value of quality teachers in the same way my experience this year has done.  We are now stronger champions of education for having immersed ourselves so thoroughly in schools.

In this way, City Year has transformed us and that “congratulations” is partly for our own growth over the course of the year.

[Susan]

But we all have been the force for change as well. That fleeting word, “Congratulations,” recognizes the time you sat with a tearful student, the pride you felt of how confidently you handled that incredibly difficult talk with a parent, the sweat that symbolizes all those brushstrokes on a 10-foot tall mural.

In Boston, our red jackets are the most conspicuous aspect of the organization, and both adults and children acknowledge that its wearers are helping the community. These jackets, however, are more than labels for do-gooders. The jacket – my own red jacket – represents the commitment I and hundreds of others have made to the students in our public education system. We recognize that there is a serious education crisis happening right here in our neighborhood, and in neighborhoods all across this country. The red jacket works alongside other positive forces in schools and in civic engagement to turn around statistics and raise expectations, and represents the hope that the gap between the reality of the present and possibilities of the future can be overcome. We put on the red jackets to become visible to those who may need some encouragement, guidance, extra time and support, or even some tough love.

I started the year feeling uncertain about my exact role and overwhelmed by our responsibilities. I remember how stubborn our afterschool students were and how they resisted doing their work. It was a battle to have them read for a full 20 minutes and, more importantly, to recognize the necessity of homework. For months, we attempted to instill a routine of starting afterschool with a 20-minute reading period. We cajoled them, gave them stern talks, took away their free time – we basically used whatever means we could. Through our patience and persuasiveness, we have reached a point where they come into the classroom, book in hand, and understand that they cannot leave until they have completed all their assignments. This may seem small in the grand scheme of education reform, but I am confident that our efforts have laid the foundation for our students to take ownership of their learning.

The red jacket is not a solo act. When I faced obstacles within and outside of school, I remembered that I was not alone. There were other jackets who knew what I was going through better than anyone. The Haley team, as small as we may be with one team leader and seven corps members, is a constant source of motivation and mental renewal for me. Beyond the Haley team, there are 140 other corps members in Boston, and beyond us, an expansive City Year network around the world. The red jacket on our shoulders is a symbol of solidarity and of our promise both to the community and to ourselves to live by a higher standard.

[James] :

To give a year of our lives is to receive a transformation of a lifetime.  When we accept “Congratulations” for our work this year, it’s for our personal growth and for the changes we have made in our communities, but it’s also a reminder that our association with City Year doesn’t end today – it’s a challenge to not stop here.  Telling our powerful stories about what we have seen and been a part of ensures that while we might not wear the City Year reds and boots, we continue to keep the lessons we’ve learned, our memories, and our students close to our hearts, minds, and souls.  Congratulations City Year Boston!

No need for the all-weather jacket!

Good morning from San Francisco! City Year Boston is taking a winter break this week, so your dispatches from the Haley School are being sent from the west coast!  And since home is on the mind of many a corps member, I thought I’d reflect on what it’s like to move across the country from that time-delayed land of palm trees and Pacific sunsets.

Most apparent, of course, is the weather. The two pairs of gloves, scarf, newly acquired earmuffs and coat that accompanied me to Logan Airport have been stowed in my luggage and aren’t likely to make an appearance until I deplane back in Boston.  The snow has proved to be a learning curve. While we haven’t been inundated yet, each day arrives with a personal record low temperature and new sensations of numbness. I’ve learned to use my scarf as a face shield on the bike rides to school and to do a mini readiness check before I step out the door (three layers? scarf? gloves? hat?). But it’s also been a time of excitement: I ran outside waving my arms when it snowed for the first time last week.  Then my fingers started hurting and I went back indoors.

Beyond what it feels like, I’ve become accustomed to seeing new sights. In Boston, there’s a Dunkin’ on every corner instead of Peet’s; Stop & Shop in place of my familiar Safeway.  Buildings look more significant and there’s an air of history in Boston – it is a town, after all, that was building subway lines only a few years after San Francisco had been officially deemed a city.  There are a dizzying number of colleges, swan boats that glide through Boston Public Garden when the pond isn’t frozen over, and an absence of cable cars or perilously steep streets.  Like home, though, it’s also a city that loves farmers markets, has pockets of green space hidden throughout, and is a source of watery reflections of the night skyline.

So whether it’s learning to operate a cell phone with gloves on, or not taking personally the cacophony of honking drivers, Boston has held quite a few firsts. And my fingers’ protestations to the contrary, I can’t wait to see my teammates and roommates, to wave good morning to my students, and to be back in service next week.