Role Model Extraordinaire

I just started volunteering at 826 Seattle, a nonprofit started by Dave Eggers that is designed to help children improve their writing skills. My Mondays now consist of getting up at 6 a.m., squeezing in seven hours at work, driving an hour from Federal Way to Greenwood to volunteer for three hours and then jumping back on 99—starving and exhausted—to head home during peak rush hour. Needless to say, I have a reason to dread getting up on Monday morning even more than ever now. But this volunteering thing is supposed to be rewarding...or something.

Last night was my second day as a drop-in tutoring volunteer. I started out by helping Student A write a report on the rapper Baby Bash, specifically the song Cyclone by Baby Bash, featuring T-Pain. (I’m T-Pain, walk it out! Ah walk it out, walk it out!) Her paper was supposed to provide a biography for Baby Bash and then talk about a song of his that she chose. She started writing her report from the Wikipedia entry for Baby Bash, which she basically copied sentences from verbatim. (Oi. That state of education after the Internet—good or bad?!)

“Ok. Well, let’s look here. It looks like his parents were addicted to heroin, and he sold crystal meth in college… So, how can we write a sentence to talk about his life history with drugs?” I proposed.

During this very educational writing session, the Cyclone song was on in the background, and every time it reached the end, she’d start it over again. I think I listened to Cyclone at least 10 times yesterday. Let me tell you how awesome it is to listen to a crappy rap song on repeat when you’re surviving on less sleep than you’re used to. We researched a little bit of Baby Bash’s very rewarding and prolific life, then she decided to switch to writing about the song.

“Have you seen the music video?” she asked, while clicking on the link.

“Um, I don’t think so,” I answered as the video started playing and half-clothed women started grinding on the lap of Baby Bash while he sat in a strip club that had XXX in the background. “Um, is it okay…” I looked over my shoulder to see if the other volunteers and the director could see what we were doing, “…Do you think we’re allowed to be watching this? I mean, it’s strippers and is sort of offensive.”

“Just think of it as a bathing suit!” she chimed back.

“Well, I’m not offended by it, that’s not what I meant. What if the other kids see it…”

She shrugged her shoulders and started the video over again. At this point, I was a little embarrassed to be watching a hardcore rap video with strippers alongside a 13-year-old. Let’s see, if her mom could see me now,…

“What is this guy saying? He’s just repeating cyclone over and over again…” I asked while trying to not sound strained and attempting to take her away from the music video. She clicked on Google and looked up the lyrics to the song:

She Moves Her Body Like A Cyclone
And She Makes Me Wanna Do It All Night Long
Going Hard When They Turn The Spotlights On
Because She Moves Her Body Like A Cyclone
Just Like A Cyclone

“I don’t understand what it means…” she said.

“Um, well, I think it’s because she twists her body when she dances, sort of like a cyclone or tornado.”

At this time, the Director of Drop-In Tutoring rescued me and steered me toward a table of five middle school girls between the ages of 13 and 15 who needed me to help them focus because they were talking too much. (I totally remember what it was like to be a gossipy girl back then and LOVED going to class just so I could sit and talk to my friends. I was always one of those kids that got the “talks too much” rating on my citizenship report.) I sat down with the girls midst their conversation...

“What’s your most embarrassing story!” one yelled.

“Uh. Well. I don’t think I can tell you guys that. It’s not very appropriate,” I answered. [Drugs, alcohol, sex]

“Come on! We’re all girls! You can tell us!”[Tampons, training bras, kissing]

I tried to change the subject, but they would not relent. I digress.

“Ok, I'll tell you an embarrassing story. Well, I feel asleep one night [passed out completely wasted] while trying to make pasta on the stove. I went to bed, trying to watch a movie, and I woke up with eight fully uniformed firefighters in my apartment. I was wearing a nightgown [itty bitty butt-baring nightie], and they had to break in cause I didn’t hear the alarm [break the door down cause I slept through the alarm for an hour cause I was wasted.]”

Eff me. I don’t know if I’m cut-out for researching rap lyrics about sex and censoring my most embarrassing stories for a group of middle school girls. It makes me feel older and less wholesome than I thought was...or something.

So, this volunteering on Monday thing...Rewarding? Maybe.

Nervewracking that I’m not the best role model for these little girls?

Probably.

Currently Feeling: Chubtastic.
Currently Anticipating: Cooking dinner for my parents tonight and finishing my costume with mi madre.
Currently Have To: Dye my Jem wig with the pink inks I bought at Michael’s today.