Listening Post 1

On a chilly morning, I pulled myself together and set out on my first visit to Little Havana Out-of-School Youth Program.

The chilly temperature that morning turned out to be an indicator of the reception I was to receive from the students I'd be interviewing.

The gloomy parking garage and creaking elevator scared me and I had to take a few moments to think about what I was getting myself into. There was no way any of these kids from the "street" were going to talk to me. Even when trying my hardest I still looked like a cookie cutter prep school kid.

I rehearsed what I was to say when it was time to walk in, but the woman who had helped me coordinate the interviews abruptly broke my concentration when she flung the office door open.

"Hi!" I yelped.

The woman recognized my voice from our earlier phone conversations and introduced herself. She took one look at me and asked again why I was doing this. I explained the assignment and how these kids were nothing like me and I just wanted to know about them. She turned away and mumbled under her breath, "They're just a bunch of low-lives."

This wasn't the thing I wanted to hear. It made my nerves worse. If the woman working to better their lives couldn't believe in them, how was I supposed to see past their dirt?

I followed the woman into a small conference room. Along the narrow corridor, posters promoting safe sex were taped on the walls.

I second guess myself. Before I have the chance to turn away, I'm thrown into the room.

I blurted out what I had rehearsed in the car - "Hey, I'm Adriana. I've chosen to write a story on you because I think you're a community that is entirely misrepresented and I want to give you a chance to be heard!" Optimism had obviously taken over me because my little speech didn't work and looking back now-how could I think it would? The group of four girls and two guys stared at me blankly. I took a deep breath and could feel the sweat on my skin. I turned around to acknowledge the teacher and woman who had walked me in but they had left me on my own.

I take another shot at explaining why I'm visiting the program. They look around at each other and I apologize for the awkwardness I'm causing.

I turn to the oldest looking member of the group- a girl I thought was about 21 who turned out to be 25- and asked her, "What are you doing here?" She shoots one eyebrow up and says, "I'm getting my GED."

I felt the students get restless and look at me like a scientist performing an experiment. They had zero tolerance for my questions. They wanted to know why I was there and they wanted to know now. If I didn't suck it up and just talk to them, I would go nowhere.

"Okay. But, what are you working towards? What has your experience been like?"

She smiled at me and it made me feel naive.

She explained that her experience at the program has been nothing short of a rollercoaster ride. It has taken her five years just to complete her high-school education and at the moment she's working on getting her Associate's. I reckon that's enough information for right now.

I move on to the next guy. A tall, tan guy about my age. I figure I could forget integrity for the moment and win him over with my girlish charm. I ask him about his experience and with an earnest smile look into his eyes for an answer. He gets up and walks out of the room. The other students didn't even notice he walked out on me since they had begun conversations with each other. I called out, "That's cool. I'll talk to you later. Thanks!" I knew he wouldn't be back.

I learn the other girl's name- Suchail. She's 25 and says her reason for dropping out of high school was simple. "Mom was a bitch. I needed to get out so I dropped out."

I nod my head. She looks at me and smiles, "you're not going to find anything interesting here."

I'm shocked when I look at the clock and realize that it's time for the group to head out. Most of them didn't even realize I was still sitting there as they get up to leave for the day. I hadn't realized the whole ordeal had taken me an hour. I asked if it was okay to come back another time and two girls just looked up at me, shocked I was still in the room and Suchail said, "We'll be here. More of us too."

As we made our way out into the main hall, one of the other girls, Xaviera- a 21-year-old with two daughters- explains to me that not everyone drops out because of drugs or teen pregnancy but it's more a result of an unstable family. They don't have good examples at home yet they get the blame for being drop outs. With that quick rant, she whips around the door. She waved goodbye and poked fun of me. She promised next time they'd be ready to talk to me but I needed to relax. I nodded my head and waved back.

So, until next time.