A chance for good works: kindness needed in Silicon Valley

I said a wish and a prayer for the Indian tech worker, name badge still on, stuck in the middle of El Camino Real tonight. Especially memorable: the driver of a souped-up Mercedez-Benz blaring his horn as he turned in two directions at the stop light and screeched around us. 

"Agro" is what my angelic brother Carl says when a person rages irrationally. That's what the hothead in the slate blue Benz was today as I commuted home from the main drag near Stanford University. As you can see in the photo, a not-so-old Toyota had stalled and needed a tow. I was the lucky recipient of multiple honks and screeching tires as I didn't move fast enough to get out from behind said broken-down vehicle. 

Funny, yesterday on my way to work I noticed a car about the same age with flashers on, blocking a turning lane. Impatient drivers squealed around as the woman inside glanced in every direction pleading for help on her cell phone. In the old days, before we all had phones and other gizmos in our cars, people would actually offer to push a disabled vehicle to the side and out of traffic. Everyone in the jam would be ecstatic to have the barrier removed while the do-gooders could demonstrate their superhuman strength. No such luck this week for the two drivers in need of car repairs, Silicon Valley is in too much of a hurry. 

When my children were small I purchased a clunker VW Vanagon for $3000 and it was a dream come true--until the first break down, and then the second and beyond. I began to believe in angels when an elderly gentleman pulled over within a few feet of my van as it stalled on the freeway--me traveling pregnant with a toddler and a soon-to-be kindergartener. The flanneled retiree casually approached from his 1960s Chevy pickup, tow rope in hand! Like I said, that was the good old days. Thank goodness my son, who drives a late-model Range Rover and may someday need a lift, lives far away from our "agro" bunch here in Silicon Valley. He might just get a push instead of a blaring horn.

Give a Hand to Homeless: Bring Back Community Spirit to Silicon Valley

            

photo credit: http://www.communityworkinggroup.org/ochousing.html

           I work in a high school that is located essentially across a swanky shopping center from a homeless shelter. The InnVision Opportunity Center is a local resource for families, and sometimes single individuals. Palo Alto is a magnet for people in need of shelter, with the train close by and more services available than the neighboring towns. If you were a woman in need, and could get no response from the folks at the shelter, what would be your next alternative to ask for help? Maybe Stanford Hospital, the police department, or even a nearby school?

            One late spring evening I stayed late to catch up on my work. It was the day after our school-wide service day, one of my signature efforts for the year. A former student poked his head in the door, introducing me to his girlfriend whom he was touring around his old alma mater. Then he said in passing, “And, oh, by the way, did you know there is a homeless lady down the hall in the kitchen?” The entire building was closed, except for a door leading from the staff lounge/kitchen to the lacrosse field where our team was playing. I took my time, because I wrongly felt that I had already done my duty by orchestrating the Service Day activities for hundreds of students and dozens of nonprofit organizations.

            But “the meek shall inherit the earth,” and I had no right to discriminate between this woman's situation and the needs of the organizations our students had worked to benefit. The thought that there was someone with no place to sleep that night haunted me out of my office and into the hallway of the Tower Building.

            “Hi, are you looking for someone?” I inquired of the unkempt middle-aged woman sitting at a table in the staff lounge.

            “Hi, I’m Colleen. I got turned away at the shelter and I’m looking for a place to stay tonight.”

            I stepped out of the kitchen, into the doorway looking onto the lacrosse field. Nightfall brought unusually crisp temperatures tonight.

            “I’m not sure if I can help, but I’ll try. Do you have any identification? A cell phone?” Colleen showed me the contents of her purse, which contained a passport, comb, and other items that looked of little use. “Hang onto that passport, it’s like gold for you right now.” Colleen told me she knew that it was her only worthwhile possession. She also explained that the reason she had no belongings was that she had gotten mixed up with a bad person and she had to flee. We talked about whether she needed to go to the hospital. She told me she had already been, and they had discharged her. At this point, I could tell she had mental health issues and I knew I was way out of my element. Colleen needed to get to a place where there were professionals who could counsel and guide her—not a high school staff member.

            In the end, I rallied two students, Audrie and Claire, by Facebook alert, as they just happened to be over at the lacrosse match. Claire is a regular volunteer at the shelter, so between her and the friend, and myself all calling shelters around town on a Friday night and wishing for someone, anyone to answer the phone—we finally found a place for Colleen. We loaded her into a taxi with instructions for the driver to call us when he had safely delivered her to the shelter downtown San Jose.

            We had given this tender woman our cell phone numbers, email addresses, but never heard from her after that chilly springtime evening. I was grateful that she didn’t have to spent that particular night outside—but regretted her problem wouldn’t be relieved with one taxi ride. There are others like Colleen, such as Cathryn, who came to the very same hallway exactly one month later. I have a story about Cathryn too, rolling her suitcase through the Tower Building. I tried to shy away again, but knew this situation was staring me in the face for a reason. By connecting mentally challenged and middle-aged Cathryn to a couple of fellow shelter seekers, I watched the spirit of community facilitate good works as the more seasoned pair warmly offered to escort Cathryn to the shuttle that would deliver her to a warm bed for the weekend in East Palo Alto.

            It’s a season away, and I think about these two ladies a lot, and the profound message affecting me, as with other experiences helping others from the shelter-seeking population. Silicon Valley didn’t used to be the way it is, with every man (woman) for himself or herself. I grew up here when we were buoyed daily by true community spirit.  I wish for that former sense of care, when the valley wasn’t driven by manic entrepreneurs in search of the next big idea. The first concept that helped us grow into what we’ve become started with welcoming all and taking care of each other. 

NEWS FLASH Fall 2014: Board of Supervisors takes action

Palo Alto's Downtown Streets Team Success Story!

Get Involved: Community Working Group with Opportunity Center, Palo Alto

Get Involved: Volunteer at InnVision in the Bay Area

Business Insider: Rich and Famous Who Were Once Homeless 

LifeBuzz: They Asked Homeless People To Write Down A Fact About Themselves…

Palo Alto Online : VIDEO: VolunTEENS, Part 2

Thank you, Carolina, for sharing your talent as a short film producer to highlight more Palo Alto High School teens' good works. There are so many stories out there! I enjoy sharing what I see our students do to make a difference in the world, while pursuing their interests. This is one more way to prove our students aren't doing service-learning and volunteering for "credit." They are doing it because they have passion and they care. 

Palo Alto Online : VIDEO: VolunTEENS, Part 2

For more good works ideas, stories, and database of opportunities check out "Get Involved," volume 3!

Small Wish List Makes a Big Difference In East Palo Alto

A HOLIDAY REQUEST FROM LAUREN'S HOUSE 4 POSITIVE CHANGE:

 

My name is Monique Graves and I am the founder of, Lauren's House 4 Positive Change. We are a small nonprofit in East Palo Alto that uses the arena of education and sports to inspire and build character in the youths that Lauren's House serves.

We are looking for sponsors for our wish list:

(5) footballs, (2) basketballs (3) baby dolls (10) gift cards to Wal-Mart or Target to buy shirt and pants, (2) Scooters (5) Jamba Juice Cards and (2) Jackets (5) Games i.e.Twister, Mancala, Uno etc

 

This year Lauren's House is trying to give back to those that are less fortunate then the underprivileged youths.  The kids have been diligently working on bracelets and cards for the Seniors and Death Row inmates. For some this is the first time that they have experienced Christmas.

 

 

I look forward to hearing from you.

 

Monique

--

Monique Graves, Chief Executive Officer

994 Beech St

East Palo Alto, CA 94303

650-630-0222

ceo@lh4pc.org

Tax I.D. 26-3809833

Website: www.lh4pc.org

 

I am Fearless
I am Awesome
I am, Lauren's House 4 Positive Change Inc.

Mission Statement:
The mission of Lauren’s House 4 Positive Change is to prepare low income and or homeless youths between the ages of 7-18 in San Mateo County for success in life. We expose our clients to educational opportunities, the arts, culture and community service to demonstrate the beauty and possibility of their lives despite hardships.

Abundant Helping Hands

My oldest daughter Sheridan got married last weekend and it was one of the most memorable times of my life, a real "family affair". Grandparents, siblings, nieces, husbands, and my children all worked together to make decorations, food, and favors ahead of time; then we put it all together and took it back down in a matter of hours. It was the best kind of celebration, with my daughters and son with his girlfriend helping one another, and my stepchildren pitching in wherever they were asked. By the time we returned home after the special occasion, it was time to jump right into work and the usual routine the next morning with only a little time for reflection. I made it through the week until Friday, when I worked with two skilled parent volunteers to host our twice-annual community service fair at the school. Twenty five community organizations manned lunchtime booths to promote volunteer opportunities for our high school students.

As one might imagine, by that evening I started to run out of steam. I struggled to find the energy to even drive home, and realized Saturday's plans might go on without me. The one activity I had wanted to do was a California-wide annual community service project with my church congregation; I suppose celebrating a successful event here will have to by my contribution.

Bob and the boys got up at 7:30 on Saturday and met at the church, where dozens of volunteers were sent to their locations: Montalvo Center for the Arts, or Mount Umminum. Either way, it would be a job of weeding, heaving, lifting, and moving. From nine to noon, fifty people from our congregation completed a total of eight spring clean-up jobs assigned earlier by the Montalvo coordinators, and another group just as large did restoration work at Mount Umminum. The hardest part about our site, according to Bob and the boys, was staying clear of poison oak. Sometimes we take for granted all the trails and walkways that are cleared of this noxious weed. These volunteers had no fear, trusting their gloves and a post-cleanup shower to keep them from infection. They also worked on repairing an overhang, moving a giant woodpile, and clearing a ditch what would have taken a bulldozer to accomplish.

At church today, I heard accounts of some other Helping Hands activities around the area, as far away as San Diego; more than fifty thousand members of our faith from all ages came together in an effort to be of service to our communities and especially for our state parks. A nearby young adult congregation rebuilt fences at Calero Park, making an assembly line with their leader's instruction and competing with each other to see who could build the fastest fence. In San Diego, the church volunteers were asked to serve breakfast and to work as course monitors for a community-wide 10K race. In my experience, having run many 5-and-10Ks, a race can never have enough volunteers! I'm sorry I had to miss our annual community service event due to my own physical exhaustion, but I am blessed with the perspective of an observer which allows me to contemplate the service that is given all around me every day. Because of last weekend and my benefiting from helping hands of family and extended family in support of Sheridan's Utah wedding, and after hearing about the monumental efforts of 50,000 church-member volunteers on one Saturday morning in support of parks and nonprofits in California, I feel blessed to be living in this time of abundant good works.

"By their fruits shall ye know them." (Matt. 7:16)

A Small Act of Kindness Saves the Day

"Ms. Owen, Ms. Owen," I heard my name as a student I had never met approached me. I was juggling half a case of bottled water, community service day sign-up sheets, and a dvd case from fourth period before lunch. We had a training meeting during lunch for student leaders participating in our Cesar Chavez Community Service Day. When I arrived, my daughter Grace gasped through her pizza, "Mom, do you have any water?" I trotted across campus to get one of the leftover cases from a recent event and then back to the meeting. I tossed the bottles to the parched students, stayed in the lunchtime meeting for ten minutes, then headed back to take the rest of the water to my office before the start of the next class period.

As one might imagine, with all this hustling to and fro something might fall apart. I had forgotten about my cell phone and keys tucked into a shallow pants pocket and the phone went crashing to the cement after I stopped to talk on the last lap to the Tower Building.The girl looked at me very quizzically, as I didn't even realize I was missing something. She could have ignored my mishap as "one of those staff people," or she could have given the phone to someone who might have a little fun breaking into my photos and text messages. No, our students aren't that cynical anyway. They are known to do the right thing, turning in lost wallets, keys, phones and such. By her small act of kindness, this girl saved my feet from further trotting that day, making it so much easier to put myself back together after the most harried morning I can remember!

Give a Little Push

We drove on frozen roads and braved a frigid blizzard in Salt Lake City last Wednesday during our vacation, attempting to rent snowboards for kids and pick up a cake for my daughter Sheridan's twenty-second birthday. I know every dangerous hill in town, having bumped into snowbanks and parked cars a time or two when I lived there. This time, we were in a heavier car with new tires so I wasn't too worried we'd get stuck. The police have become more considerate these days, diverting traffic from the hills where we used to slide, onto residential streets with less of a slope and better traction. I don't know why the snowplows there take so long to catch up to the storms.

As we took our mandated detour from 7000 South to 2700 East, the line of cars slowed to a crawl and then stopped. We looked ahead to the slight curve and no cars made it past. "There must be someone stuck on the hill ," we said to each other. We were tired of trudging through the snow and ready to go back to our holiday rental house for dinner. After five or ten minutes of waiting, slowly cars began to go around the vehicle to make their way home. As we approached the motionless white Saturn, I could see an elderly person in the driver's seat spinning the wheels--clearly not cut out for winter driving. A younger man futilely pushed from the back corner, ready to give up from exhaustion. He had been attempting to heave the car out of the ice since the beginning of the back-up. I couldn't refrain from commenting to Bob that these people must need some help. I would have understood if he had kept going; our car was sliding too. But he quickly pulled over as the other cars went around us, to find out why the Saturn couldn't make it up the little slope. Two more cars lost traction, Bob slipped on the ice in his tennis shoes, and the rest of us realized we would be lucky to make it back to the house without incident.

As I watched the first gentleman pushing the Saturn, and now Bob trying to help the stranded drivers I caught myself momentarily wishing we had just gone around them like everyone else. But if we had, I would have worried about them and felt horrible all night. "Patience. We are lucky and blessed," I thought. With three stranded cars at Cottonwood Heights, and Bob and the stranger offering their help, they started to talk about the feasibility of rear-wheel drives on hills in a snowstorm. Other cars, better equipped for the conditions, slid sideways and past the curve. Then I saw the unexpected: Bob and the stranger talked for a few minutes and shook hands. Then the elderly man got out of his car, stooping shoulders and white hair, and walked over to the stranger's pickup. The stranger would take him home, we were later informed. The young girl in the little rear-wheel drive behind us also talked to Bob. Her dad would pick her up, she told him in a relieved tone.

When Bob came back to the car twenty minutes or so into our detour, I asked how it went. "Those cars are staying put tonight," he said. "I just needed to convince them not to try and drive them home." I was thankful that he was willing to get out and help, but even more thankful that he could reason with them--especially the elderly man. Sure, they've driven that hill in snow before, but why take a chance? When random strangers can pull over and give an old man a push, and then offer a ride after that doesn't work, my faith in mankind is restored. All they needed was a gentle reminder that the storm would not last forever, the car could be safely parked overnight, and there were other drivers willing to give them a lift. It's great to help someone push their car in a storm; it's even better to give them encouragement when it's time to give up and try another day. After we safely arrived back at the house from which we had started our little errands, I counted my blessings and expressed thanks that we didn't have to drive the storm anymore that night and that the stooped-over, white haired man was able to accept first the help of a stranger and second the life-saving suggestion of my husband in his slippery shoes!

Last-minute Volunteers

Most volunteer jobs require training or some commitment, but you can feel good in a heartbeat by just paying attention to those around you. That's what three sophomore students did for me today. I was swamped, and nearly in tears this morning to think the job before me would last into late night hours, after the family dinner and birthday party for my stepson Logan. The day whizzed by, I tried not to notice the clock as it crept closer to 3:30 p.m. That would be time to go pick up supplies for the dinner and pick up my daughter from her job interview and head home at rush hour.

First Elizabeth was determined to alphabetize a stack of 200 letters. She had so much "fun" that she asked if she could invite her friend Adriana. They both decided it would be faster if Jennifer joined them, so we started an assembly line of the papers to be delivered. First sorting, then stapling, folding and taping. The girls enjoyed bantering back-and-forth, with me chiming in whenever I had a clue what they were talking about. The sweetest part was when Jennifer asked, "Don't you have any help to do this? Like, what would you do if we weren't here?" I told her I had already planned to take it home and stay up late, knowing the papers had to be delivered to 200 students on Friday morning. "Wow," she said, "that makes me feel really good that we could help."

And that's all it takes to feel good sometimes. Just pay attention and be willing to lend a hand if you've got some extra time. The girls stayed with me for fifty minutes--just long enough to sort through most of the papers and to be ready for tomorrow. As we finished the birthday dinner at my house tonight, I took my dog Maxie for a walk, caught a falling star, and packed my bag for a weekend getaway. None of this would have been possible without the help of my last-minute volunteers at school today!

Lilttlest Helper

We were offered some free Giants tickets the other night--front row seats! The only problem for me was that we had wedding invitations to send out a.s.a.p. and I knew even seats above the dugout would not be worth the stress of ignoring a job to be done at home. Bob took his boys and my daughter Grace, while the youngest member of our soon-to-be-blended family, Taryn, stayed with me to give a hand. I often procrastinate when I'm in over my head, so found all kinds of other things to do: a more elaborate dinner, a jog, a shower. Taryn was happy to play with her American Girl doll and to help tear lettuce for the salad. As bedtime approached, she asked me why we hadn't done the invitations, and could she still help out? Having a little girl offer to help humbled and motivated me, and I decided to dive into the task for one hour.

As we stacked and sorted the invites, marking them with the return address and a wedding ring stamp, Taryn and I chatted about how to tackle tedious tasks. This girl is a worker, often offering to help at home. She proudly stated her hobby, "I just like to keep busy, it makes time go by faster." By the end of the hour, we had nearly completed the job and I sent my little helper off to bed. I was energized by her pleasant and giving attitude. Just that extra set of hands, small as they are, was enough to show me that I could pull this wedding together by asking for help from family and friends when I am overwhelmed. Bob and the kids returned a couple of hours later from the game and he carried Taryn, sleeping like a rag-doll, out to the car. I threw a hot-pink fleece blanket over her shoulders, and her eyes barely opened, with a satisfied and knowing look that she made a difference in our house tonight.