The First Service Learning Log

Date of Shift: 26 April 2008 Hours worked: 3


Part One:
I didn’t know what to expect when I was pulling up to the Project Angel-Heart warehouse. In my mind, the only other time I hears of people going to a warehouse was in reference to one of the infamous warehouse parties of my high school a few years back. Project Angel-Heart’s warehouse was nothing like that. Quite frankly, I was surprised by how modern and organized the building was. This is not to say that I expected the organization to be substandard, simply that non-profit organizations usually have some signs of being unable to obtain finances for everything that would like to do. This is most certainly not the case for Angel Heart. For some reason, I found that thought comforting. I like the thought that I am contributing to something that is established in what they are doing and what their purpose is. We walked into the door on the right which led us into a room full of cubicles that serve as offices for the people that work at Project Angel Heart, it looked as though there were a couple of people that had earned the luxury of having their own offices which could be found along the wall in the same room. Although it had the same feel as a corporate office in it’s setup, it felt like a place where people had more of a sense of community. It felt like a place where people came to work everyday to fulfill of piece of themselves instead of their checking accounts. There are few places where monetary gain is not the goal. It’s a strange sensation to figure out how relaxing it is to be in a place where money is not the focus; it decreases the tension in your body. I always forget how much that one aspect can change the way the enironment makes you feel. After telling the lady in the office we were DU students, she kindly answered our questions and led us to the kitchen.
When I was told that I was to be doing a “food preparation”, I did not envision working in a state-of-the-art kitchen, staffed and sterile. The majority of the people working in the kitchen were middle age adults; the exceptions being David, Jake, myself, and the girl who stood to my right. The head chef, at least I believe that’s what he was, asked us to help to finish peeling the carrots. Initially, David and I peeled the carrots then chopped them up into bite size pieces. Though after we looked around, we realized all the carrots on the table were whole carrots. Our realization hit us just as the woman on the other side of the table informed me that you were only supposed to chop off the ends of the carrots. We thought the industrial size knives had been for chopping. I blushed quietly and turned my focus back to the task at hand. Peeling carrots, though far from being an exciting task, became a competition between Jake, David, and I. Though two or three carrots into it, I realized they peeled carrots far faster than I did. I withdrew for my own safety, rushing my task would only lead to me accidentally hurting myself with the sharp object. It was better for me to take it slow.
After the carrots, we had the privilege of ladling soup into Styrofoam containers, putting the tops on, and placing them in the crate type boxes. Five soups bowls by six soup bowls, two layers deep, each crate held sixty single servings of soup. The amount of soup they had prepared was astonishing. We could only ladle the soup containers three-fourths full so that they don’t explode during the freezing process. I found it interesting how meticulous they were about keeping the different types of soup separate, the amount of food in each container, and the general process of tasks throughout the kitchen. David, Jake would ladle the soup into the containers and cleanly as possible and I would place the tops on and put them in the crate. Even though casually assembled, forming a team to increase our productivity was something that came to us naturally. Since we arrived late from the traffic, we were all assigned to the same table and thus at ease to form this assembly line technique. I briefly spoke to the girl on my other side, but she had volunteered for an assignment from school as well. I began to ask her the different questions that I was considering during my shift in the kitchen. I asked her what community service meant to her and if she volunteered her time often. She didn’t have any meaningful answers for me; she merely shrugged her shoulders, giggled, and repeated that she was required to volunteer for school. We packaged the soup for so long that my arms began to ache, but before I could complain it was time for cleaning up.
I was assigned to the task of cleaning the tables with soapy water and then drying them with a rag. Usually I would only clean the surface of the table, but here that was not the case. The head chef specifically told me to clean in between the tables and on the sides because that’s where the things that can made the clients sick live. There were a couple of women who were mopping the floors around us as we continued to clean the kitchen. Despite how many times I tried to be friendly to them, they refused to look me in the eye or bother responding once. They would talk to the other clean-up staff, the man who worked with the dishwashing machine in the back, and of course her boss, but she would not speak to any of us. It was strange to think that someone in such a friendly environment could be unwelcome and altogether unresponsive to any attempts of friendliness. Tom, the head chef, made us cinnamon rolls as a treat; they were covered in frosting. I helped finish mopping the floor and putting things away and finally it was time to go home. I can’t say that time went by quickly, but I enjoyed my time preparing food for Project Angel-Heart.

Part Two:
Volunteering helped me to remember that I enjoy giving to those less fortunate. Though our generation has been raised with the mantra “time is money” in our ears, service work is undeniably satisfying. After volunteering with Habitat for Humanity, I realized that I would like to volunteer on a constant basis. At Project Angel-Heart, I did not feel as strong of a pull to return. The atmosphere was lovely and the people were informative and sweet natured, but I didn’t get the same sense of accomplishment walking out the door as I did when I participated in mission trips and Habitat for Humanity during my childhood. Though I enjoyed preparing the food, it made me realize that I prefer to participate in the more action-based part of service work. I like seeing the progress we’ve made building a house or reconstructing the roof. I believe the delivery part of the service project will prove to be much more satisfactory to me. Physically giving them the food would be a much more meaningful and personal experience to me. The contact between the volunteer and those they are helping is what helps me see the good we’re putting into the world. Even though I know preparing food is the first step to the process, the interaction with the people is what intrigues me most. I believe this realization will help me to pick organizations I will enjoy participating in next time I choose to volunteer.