The year of 1999 was coming to an end, a year I
could never forget even if I tried. I had turned 10 midway through the year and
by the time we were approaching the winter break of 5th grade I had seen more
counselors for the year than I care to admit, and been through one traumatic
event after another falling on each like dominos. When the year began I had my
first experience with death when my best friend had passed away suddenly.
Continuing into the year I joined a program at school that taught students how
to ski with different public schools in Santa Fe. It was an activity I really
enjoyed over a few months, it was a get away gone bad. The bus company that
took us up and down the mountain of curvy roads weekly didn't maintain their
buses properly and on March 2 while on our drive down the mountain the brakes
to the bus gave out ending in a bus full of 32 elementary student and 3
chaperons wrecked and flipped. In the midst of the bus rapidly going around
curves, as the bus driver tried to keep the bus under control we were instructed
to cover our heads with our bags, but my bag was no where to be found. That was
when one chaperon gave his bag to me. Not long after that I woke up to
a mangled mess of metal and blood everywhere, quickly followed by an ocean of
sirens and flashing red and blue lights. Some how my parents found out about
what happened and barged through police lines and made it to the accident
scene. However, we were quickly separated when they paramedics began loading
students into ambulances to take us to a hospital. The next morning I awoke to
find out my cousin Eric, and the chaperon Gary who sacrificed his bag for me
had passed away. Many of my friends were ok, but some still in hospital beds
hook up to machines and/or under going surgery. That event made me suddenly
look at adults as if they were enemies. I thought the world was safe but
suddenly it became dangerous. I thought events with school had this bubble that
protected us, this proved to only be half true. I still look to Gary as a hero, he
saved me that day, but guilt followed me for years (and at times still does). I blamed myself for why 3
boys no longer had a father, and a wife left a widow. And I blamed my school
and the bus company for doing this.
Just a month later a very close uncle had a
stroke he survived but not long after that a more sever stroke hit him. It was
May 6th, my 10th birthday and there I was in yet another hospital watching
another person I love hooked up to machines and putting up what I thought was
an unfair fight. Just a few days later he as well passed away. I had just
hit double digits in age and every one around me was dying. I began fearing the
world, fearing any kind of relationship. I began thinking that being around me
meant you would as well die and I started pushing everyone and everything
around me away. I spent the following several years of my life with a similar
attitude, occasionally haunted by the same nightmare as friends through out the
years moved on to other worlds or heavens or reincarnation.
However, even with what sometimes felt like a rugged storm of a life,
the sun did also shine. A couple years following 5th grade a
wildfire ran a muck in Los Alamos, a town not too far from Santa Fe leaving
many with out homes and in needs of good. One day my mom decided to take my
younger sister Amy and I to a charity goods drive. People donated a variety of
items, from food to clothes, household items to toys. We worked for the day
sorting out the variety of items to be administered to the families affected by
the wildfire. I remember there was a Beanie Baby that I had been wanting for my
collection, and I asked my mom if I could have it. She explained to me how the
families these items were going to were for people who had nothing left, a
Beanie Baby going to one of the families affected may be the only toy another
girl may have. I knew I had my own share of not only Beanie Babies, but also
other goodies at home. Suddenly it didn’t make sense to me why I deserved this,
and not another girl. That moment was when it finally clicked to me why my mom
had us there sorting through piles upon piles of various things. My first moment of volunteer work that later
lead to a passion I never saw coming.
Fast forward to the awkward years
of High School and I was still holding on to the fear that people I care for
were just going to die if I let them too close. As I said, that nightmare of
losing people sometimes played like a broken record of curses as I lost a few
friends and family members very important to me during the first couple years
of High School. I resorted to once again pushing away the people who cared
about me most. Sometimes with my mom and dad enduring the biggest lash of that.
I can admit, I was a brat as a teen. Until one person changed that all for me.
One day while attending a career
fair I met a girl who served in Peace Corps Kenya and was a Returned Peace
Corps Volunteer. She talked about her stories while serving. Tales of what she
did and the people she met. I swear the fair around me stopped; her story was
magical! Then she said something that complete changed my world though the
quote “The world is filled with good people, if you cant find one, be one”. Up
to that point, people in my world were a curse not a blessing. But that moment…
all it took was a bit of time with this girl, and suddenly, the world became
hopeful. From that moment I knew I want to be a Peace Corps Volunteer. For the
first time in several years I believed that maybe I have a “reason”. I knew
darkness better than I knew light; maybe my “reason” was to find light in the
darkest of moments. Crazy I know. However, from that moment on I swore I WOULD
be a Peace Corps Volunteer. I WOULD be the “good” person. A fire ignited with in me.
Keep in mind this moment came
over 12 years ago, so when I was approaching graduation in 2006 my parents
weren’t exactly thrilled about the idea of me wanting to take off to some
random country. They wanted me to go to college. Long story short, I made a bet
with my family that I lost, and off to college I went. It wasn’t long though
for my wonderlust to kick in and I ventured off to a new place, Chicago. Little
did I know, Chicago would become my home. I have absolutely nothing negative I
can say about Chicago. To this day when you ask me where is home, I will say
Chitown. I made friendships that exceed past friends, but into family. I felt,
at home. However the wonderlust didn’t stop there.
I graduated with my degree American Sign
Language-English interpreting in 2012. One thing still stood after all these
years, I wanted to be a Peace Corps Volunteer. I honestly connected that to
being my “reason” what ever that should mean. I met with a recruiter and before
you knew it, I was signed up to go to South America.
I absolutely fell in love with
volunteering in schools abroad. I love working with children. I have no desire
to have and of my own, but there’s something about working with students that
makes me feel like, you know what, I’m doing something right. I love the
innocence of children. I enjoy how silly they can be. I’m silly and strange
myself. I toured South America as a volunteer teaching English as a second
language for a bit. While this happened, my heart found a special place in Peru
and I found myself seriously debating staying in Peru rather than returning to
the States. Up to that point I had never experienced so much euphoria in life
as I did volunteering in Peru. That was when the planets of my world aligned.
Maybe this was my “reason”.
That’s all it took. All it took
was one girl to make me believe. It took one trip to make me believe in me.
Just one. I never saw it coming but for once I thought I understood the reason
for something happening for a “reason”. I took that trip to South America with
intent being to gather experience to be a Peace Corps Volunteer. I went to
teach, but I left being the one who learned. I knew, I knew exactly what I was
aiming for. Maybe it was for that “reason” or maybe it was just because, but I
knew I had to do it. Where darkness once
filled my world, now optimism took over.
I had a game plan. I would
volunteer in South America, and once I returned to the States I would begin my
Peace Corps application. My recruiter and I had it all planned out. However, an
unfortunate hostaging situation put my application on a bit of a pause. As many
prior events in my life, this took a moment to recover from. But, what doesn’t
kill you makes you stronger right?
Later I met someone who
introduced me to a whole new world. My roommate introduced to a place that
built up people more than anything.
Though through this story I’ve
ben extremely selective in incorporating names, there are a couple I have to
mention. One being Fred Martinez. He convinced me to push myself beyond limits
I thought were way beyond my range. He saw me in a broken moment and rather
than let me dig a deeper hole, he taught me to climb out. With out any clue
what I was doing, I joined the Superior Fitness family in Santa Fe. With the
guidance of not only Fred, but other members of my gym fam (*cough cough* Deanneza,
Laura, Pops and Carrie) I became the strongest Jamie (emotionally, mentally,
and physically) I could ever imagine being. Like I said though, I’ve ben
selective in the names I mention. However this is a moment where I have to call
out a few people. See it takes a village to make something happen, and I’ve
very fortunate to have an amazing support team that has helped me in my story. Amy,
my baby sister who I looked up to since we were little; Landie, the most
amazing best friend I could ask for; Marinda, my guardian angel; Beatrice, the
one who believe in me more than I did; Fred, who pushed me; Heather, who opened
up new doors; Sonja, who stood by me through so much; Mrs. Brooke and Ms. Dianna, two lovely ray of sunshine with hearts of gold, and most of all my
parents… I finally became the best version of Jamie I had ever been in my life.
January of 2015, nine months
after submitting my application to Peace Corps, I received a set in stone
official invitation to serve in Namibia as a Secondary Education English
Teacher. To be honest I had to do a bit
of research on Namibia. I believed I would be sent to South America so I hadn’t
done much research on African countries. I was a bit unsure but I took the
jump. The moment I received my invitation my dream came true. I was so excited I literally ran out of the classroom I was working in. I waited for the moment for so long and there was no way I'd pass it up. Now, January 2016 here I am living in Namibia, a country so beautiful
that words and pictures don’t give it justice. I miss my friends, family, and
gym family but I also now have a great Namily consisting of my fellow volunteers,
host family, and Bunya host family.
Perhaps I did have a reason,
perhaps everything has a reason. I’m sure this reason will take a lifetime to
reveal, but there is one thing I do know.
Whether or not I ever figure out what that “reason” I found my passion.
Life is something good, and though sometimes tough, its beautiful! I don’t think
reason ever dies, and I’m still young. Maybe life happens for multiple reasons.
Each reason leading to a new reason. Maybe we’re not here for a reason, but a
collection of many reasons. As for now, reasons have lead me to where I am
right now, and I cant wait to see what other reasons unfold or where the
reasons lead me as I experience this little thing called life.
Just a little piece of my time in Peru
