Arts Camp
So this week I’ve been working at an art daycamp. It is were pretentious rich Cincinnatians send their kids during the summer at a cost per week that equals my monthly rent at my old apartment, because they like to pretend that they have culture. They may or may not; i have my doubts. But their kids definitely don’t. Some of the kids genuinely like art and enjoy themselves and try their best. But the rest…sheesh. Holy terrors doesn’t begin to describe it. The little toads. All some of them do is to either brag or complain.
I have had the toughest time dealing with them this week, and I think that is partly due to other tough things I’ve had going on, but partly it’s due to the fact that I have been subconsciously reminded of all of the children in Guatemala. When a child says to you, “Are we finished yet? I’m bored! When’s snack time? I’m starving!” and you know that what his mother spends on his lunch could feed a kid in Guatemala for like, five days, and then you watch him/her throwing away a sandwich bag full of fresh cherries or goldfish crackers, it is difficult to be patient with said complaining child. Especially when the amount of money said parent spent on said lunch also equals the amount of money you spend on all of your own food for the entire day.
But the more I think about it, it’s not their fault that they are like this. The poorly behaved ones don’t listen because their parents don’t enforce discipline well. The neurotic ones freak out because their parents are psycho and demand perfection. The bragging ones brag because their parents place too much emphasis on possessions and accomplishments pointing to status, and the desirability of establishing that status.
And, I just wish that I could focus on their good points instead of complaining about them. The little toads. I mean, somebody’s gotta love them. I’m trying to just say, “I have the opportunity to impact these kids for Christ, by showing them that I genuinely care about them, and I’m gonna take it.”
Again, difficult when you don’t know how you’re gonna pay your grocery bill and they’re bragging about the four top-f-the-line video game thing-um-bobs they have. Oh, well. I’d rather be poor and happy. And I am happy. I hope if I ever get rich, I’ll still live like I’m relatively poor.
