How Social Isolation Is Killing Us

Credit: Damon Winter/The New York Times

by Dhruv Khullar, New York Times: http://www.nytimes.com/2016/12/22/upshot/how-social-isolation-is-killing-us.html

My patient and I both knew he was dying. Not the long kind of dying that stretches on for months or years. He would die today. Maybe tomorrow. And if not tomorrow, the next day.

Was there someone I should call? Someone he wanted to see? Not a one, he told me. No immediate family. No close friends. He had a niece down South, maybe, but they hadn’t spoken in years.

For me, the sadness of his death was surpassed only by the sadness of his solitude. I wondered whether his isolation was a driving force of his premature death, not just an unhappy circumstance.

Every day I see variations at both the beginning and end of life: a young man abandoned by friends as he struggles with opioid addiction; an older woman getting by on tea and toast, living in filth, no longer able to clean her cluttered apartment. In these moments, it seems the only thing worse than suffering a serious illness is suffering it alone.

Social isolation is a growing epidemic - one that’s increasingly recognized as having dire physical, mental and emotional consequences. Since the 1980s, the percentage of American adults who say they’re lonely has doubled from 20 percent to 40 percent.

About one-third of Americans older than 65 now live alone, and half of those over 85 do. People in poorer health - especially those with mood disorders like anxiety and depression - are more likely to feel lonely. Those without a college education are the least likely to have someone they can talk to about important personal matters.

A wave of new research suggests social separation is bad for us. Individuals with less social connection have disrupted sleep patterns, altered immune systems, more inflammation and higher levels of stress hormones. One recent study found that isolation increases the risk of heart disease by 29 percent and stroke by 32 percent. 

Another analysis that pooled data from 70 studies and 3.4 million people found that socially isolated individuals had a 30 percent higher risk of dying in the next seven years, and that this effect was largest in middle age.

Loneliness can accelerate cognitive decline in older adults, and isolated individuals are twice as likely to die prematurely as those with more robust social interactions. These effects start early: Socially isolated children have significantly poorer health 20 years later, even after controlling for other factors. All told, loneliness is as important a risk factor for early death as obesity and smoking.

The evidence on social isolation is clear. What to do about it is less so.

Loneliness is an especially tricky problem because accepting and declaring our loneliness carries profound stigma. Admitting we’re lonely can feel as if we’re admitting we’ve failed in life’s most fundamental domains: belonging, love, attachment. It attacks our basic instincts to save face, and makes it hard to ask for help.

I see this most acutely during the holidays when I care for hospitalized patients, some connected to I.V. poles in barren rooms devoid of family or friends - their aloneness amplified by cheerful Christmas movies playing on wall-mounted televisions. And hospitalized or not, many people report feeling lonelier, more depressed and less satisfied with life during the holiday season.

New research suggests that loneliness is not necessarily the result of poor social skills or lack of social support, but can be caused in part by unusual sensitivity to social cues. Lonely people are more likely to perceive ambiguous social cues negatively, and enter a self-preservation mind-set - worsening the problem. In this way, loneliness can be contagious: When one person becomes lonely, he withdraws from his social circle and causes others to do the same.

Dr. John Cacioppo, a psychology professor at the University of Chicago, has tested various approaches to treat loneliness. His work has found that the most effective interventions focus on addressing “maladaptive social cognition” - that is, helping people re-examine how they interact with others and perceive social cues. He is collaborating with the United States military to explore how social cognition training can help soldiers feel less isolated while deployed and after returning home.

The loneliness of older adults has different roots - often resulting from family members moving away and close friends passing away. As one senior put it, “Your world dies before you do.”

Ideally, experts say, neighborhoods and communities would keep an eye out for such older people and take steps to reduce social isolation. Ensuring they have easy access to transportation, through discounted bus passes or special transport services, can help maintain social connections.

Religious older people should be encouraged to continue regular attendance at services and may benefit from a sense of spirituality and community, as well as the watchful eye of fellow churchgoers. Those capable of caring for an animal might enjoy the companionship of a pet. And loved ones living far away from a parent or grandparent could ask a neighbor to check in periodically.

But more structured programs are arising, too. For example, Dr. Paul Tang of the Palo Alto Medical Foundation started a program called linkAges, a cross-generational service exchange inspired by the idea that everyone has something to offer.

The program works by allowing members to post online something they want help with: guitar lessons, a Scrabble partner, a ride to the doctor’s office. Others can then volunteer their time and skills to fill these needs and “bank” hours for when they need something themselves.

“In America, you almost need an excuse for knocking on a neighbor’s door,” Dr. Tang told me. “We want to break down those barriers.”

For example, a college student might see a post from an older man who needs help gardening. She helps him plant a row of flowers and “banks” two hours in the process. A few months later, when she wants to cook a Malaysian meal for her boyfriend, a retired chef comes by to give her cooking lessons.

“You don’t need a playmate every day,” Dr. Tang said. “But knowing you’re valued and a contributing member of society is incredibly reaffirming.” The program now has hundreds of members in California and plans to expand to other areas of the country.

“We in the medical community have to ask ourselves: Are we controlling blood pressure or improving health and well-being?” Dr. Tang said. “I think you have to do the latter to do the former.”

A great paradox of our hyper-connected digital age is that we seem to be drifting apart. Increasingly, however, research confirms our deepest intuition: Human connection lies at the heart of human well-being. It’s up to all of us - doctors, patients, neighborhoods and communities - to maintain bonds where they’re fading, and create ones where they haven’t existed. 

Correction: December 24, 2016 

An Upshot article on Thursday about the health risks of social isolation misstated the purpose of a grant by the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation to a program, linkAges, dedicated to fighting the problem. The grant to linkAges was for testing a new project connected to the program; it was not meant to help linkAges expand across other areas of the country.

Dhruv Khullar, M.D., M.P.P., is a resident physician at Massachusetts General Hospital and Harvard Medical School. Follow him on Twitter at @DhruvKhullar.

To Thrive, We Must Be In Touch With Each Other

by Sarah van Gelder, Yes! magazine: http://www.yesmagazine.org/happiness/to-thrive-we-must-be-in-touch-with-each-other-20160817

Imagine that instead of reading these words on a screen, you are sitting across from me over a cup of coffee.

You’re sharing your stories, and I’m sharing mine. As we talk, we notice many things about each other, because our words are just a small part of what we communicate. I watch your eyes, which may be focused or may be darting to a cell phone. The corners of your mouth might turn up slightly, or you might raise your eyebrows when you’re provoked. You might hear my breath change or notice a subtle shift in the pitch of my voice.

As we learn about another person in these many ways, we have a harder time dismissing them, because even when they say something we disagree with, we have these other indications that we are with a living, breathing, flawed yet miraculous being who struggles and falls short, just as we do.

On my road trip last year, I realized when I listened to the conversations I’d recorded how often they took place over coffee or a meal.

I stopped at a harvest festival at a small farm outside Louisville, Kentucky, about halfway through my trip, arriving just as people were lining up for a sumptuous meal of tamales, salads, and beans. Most of the ingredients had been grown just a few feet away from the front yard of the farmhouse, where we sat on hay bales as we ate and talked. A band played on the front porch, and couples got up to dance. Nearby, kids and adults picked up a game of soccer. Newcomers kept on arriving, filling their plates with food.

Nelson Escobar, an immigrant from El Salvador, and Elmer Zavala, originally from Honduras, started the farm. A dozen people of many backgrounds till the land, each raising three crops, each sharing their harvest with the others in the collective so all can have a varied local diet.

The food is great, but for Escobar and Zavala, the sense of community is key. “What I really love about this is the collective,” Zavala said when I asked why he helped start this farm. “I love sharing the harvest. And when we grow it ourselves, we don’t have to worry that our food was grown in conditions that exploit workers. Because we’re humans, doing work together is really satisfying,” Escobar added.

Collectives can have their disputes. Sometimes conflicts tear groups apart. Still, we learn deeply when we tune into how others see the world, and that can help us make sense of the world and of ourselves.

When we try to work together at a large scale, it’s much more difficult: Issues get too abstract, and we fall into oversimplification. We stereotype each other, turning unique human beings into “illegals,” “soccer moms,” “thugs,” “suits.” And ideas become rigid ideologies. Nuance, tolerance, and empathy get lost. Fear of the unfamiliar creates the conditions for a mob mentality, racism, and violence.

Likewise, we’re more likely to feel isolated, powerless, disengaged, and worse - we’re more likely to die early. Isolation is as dangerous to our health as smoking, Judith Shulevitz wrote in The New Republic in 2013. Lonely people are more likely to get Alzheimer’s disease, diabetes, high blood pressure, heart disease, and cancer.

In order to thrive, we have to be “in touch” with others, to internalize their humanity. Otherwise, we spiral into illness, selfishness, self-aggrandizement, and a “me first” ideology, becoming insatiable consumers and second-rate citizens.

We evolved to live in community, and that seems to be the scale where we can best navigate the complexities of life - the experiences of people not like us, the fragility and resilience of the web of life that surrounds us.

When we live connected to a community, we are more likely to become champions for one another, not just for ourselves. It’s a small step from there to becoming advocates for the larger community, even for the community of all life. From there, the idea of the common good is not so hard to grasp.

Sarah van Gelder wrote this article for YES! Magazine. Sarah is co-founder and editor at large of YES! Magazine. Sarah writes articles and conducts interviews for YES!, and she speaks regularly about solutions journalism, grassroots innovations, and social change movements. She is the editor of several books and is writing another. Follow her on Twitter @sarahvangelder.

Concluding Lifetime of Dedicated Activism, Grace Lee Boggs Dies at Age 100

Grace Lee Boggs in 2012 (Photo: Kyle McDonald/cc/flickr)

by Lauren McCauley, staff writer, Common Dreams: http://www.commondreams.org/news/2015/10/05/concluding-lifetime-dedicated-activism-grace-lee-boggs-dies-age-100

Longtime activist, educator, and philosopher Grace Lee Boggs passed early Monday at the age of 100.

Friends and caregivers Shay Howell and Alice Jennings said in a statement about her passing that Boggs "left this life as she lived it: surrounded by books, politics, people and ideas." Boggs died peacefully in her sleep in her Detroit home.

Born in Rhode Island in 1915, the daughter of Chinese immigrants studied at Barnard College and Bryn Mawr, where she received Ph.D. in philosophy in 1940. These studies led to a lifetime of activism, starting in Chicago with the movement for tenants’ rights and the Workers Party. In the 1960s, Grace moved to Detroit, where she became known for her work, along with her late husband, author and activist James Boggs.

Over the past 70 years, she was involved with the civil rights, Black Power, labor, environmental justice, and feminist movements. In 1992, she co-founded the Detroit Summer youth program, "a multi-racial, inter-generational collective" that serves as a training ground for youth activists. She once stated, "you cannot change any society unless you take responsibility for it, unless you see yourself as belonging to it and responsible for changing it."

"Grace Lee Boggs embraces a philosophy of constant questioning - not just of who we are as individuals, but of how we relate to those in our community and country, to those in other countries, and to the local and global environment," notes a biography of Boggs, which accompanies of portrait of her painted by artist Robert Shetterly.

Throughout her life, Boggs' speeches and essays frequently made connections between the suffering experienced by poor and marginalized communities with humanity's overall lack of vision, exemplified by the demand for "endless growth."

During a 2012 talk given in San Francisco, Boggs spoke alternately of the need to "grow our souls." She said: "We need to find that balance of life that respects each other, that thinks that the most important thing at this time on the clock of the world is not our accumulation of things, is not economic growth which threatens and imperils all life on this planet including ourselves, that the time has come to grow our souls, to grow our relationships with one another, to create families that are loving and communities that are loving, to bring the neighbor back into the hood."

And in an essay written in 2010 explaining why she did not partake in a commemoration of the August 28, 1963 March on Washington, Boggs boldly questioned the value of "encouraging democratic illusions" while there was still such pervasive injustice and inequity in the U.S. Instead, she reiterated Dr. Martin Luther King's call for a "Radical Revolution of Values," which she said not only disparages racism, but also "Materialism and Militarism."

In her final post on the Boggs Center website, written in August 2014, she wrote, "I want my life to challenge people to think philosophically. I want people to ask themselves and each other what time it is on the clock of the world."

The Next System Project: Can We Imagine a Future Worth Fighting For?

by Community Wealth, Shareable: http://www.shareable.net/blog/the-next-system-project-can-we-imagine-a-future-worth-fighting-for

We know that we have big problems: the climate situation is dire, inequality is on the rise, democracy’s been captured by corporations, and we have unprecedented numbers of people locked up in prisons and jails. 

When we try to chip away at these problems, what often happens is that we take one step forward and two steps back. 

We try to crack down on predatory mortgage lending with some new regulations and speculative finance decides to just become corporate landlords. 

We try to make the prison system “more fair” and we wind up just making it bigger. We try to build a sharing economy that connects people and reduces the resources we use, but the venture capitalists jump in to inflate another tech bubble that pushes more people into precarious labor instead.

If we’re serious about a future that’s sustainable, equitable, livable, and just, we need to be thinking in terms of getting ahead of these dynamics by actually changing the system. That means thinking seriously about scale, about the big picture, about how the elements of the world we want to live in fit together and can mutually reinforce each other.

It means sorting through all the great ideas and experiments and visions that have emerged in recent years - from peer production to worker cooperatives to basic income to prison abolition - and figuring out how these visions get made real and how these experiments get scaled up.

And it means coming to terms with the magnitude of all of this. We aren’t going to build the system we want to see overnight; it’s going to take decades of work and millions of people to pull it off.
The good news is that this work is happening already, all around the country and the world.

Angela Glover Blackwell, the head of PolicyLink, puts it beautifully: “As systems fail, individual and community creativity explodes [...] the people in this country are solving the problems themselves. They're coming up with new models and strategies, and within those models and strategies are the kernels of a systemic way to move forward.”

The Next System Project, launched last week at the Democracy Collaborative, is a multi-year initiative to build a platform for weaving these new models and strategies together into something bigger.

If this sounds like something you want to be a part of, watch and share our overview video, and visit the Next System Project site to sign on to our statement on the need for systemic solutions to systemic crisis. Here's more on the project by actor and activists Danny Glover:

Reconciliation Through Resilience: The Hard Work of Peacemaking From the Ground Up

City Hall Belfast with statue of Queen Victoria (Wikipedia)

by Jenny Holland, Slugger O'Toole: http://sluggerotoole.com/2014/10/27/reconciliation-through-resilience-the-hard-work-of-peacemaking-from-the-ground-up/

Following the news is a particularly depressing activity most days.

With war, suffering and division making headlines, a person would be forgiven for thinking that seven decades after the defeat of Nazism, 20 years after genocide in Bosnia, and over a decade after the 9/11 attacks, humankind is marching away from progress and civility, not toward it.

Here in Northern Ireland, we can be grateful that the gunmen and bombers no longer stalk our streets, murdering innocent people in their beds and blowing people up on their way to work. But we still despair at the nasty tone many of our politicians use, their inability to find compromise, and their seemingly infinite tolerance for political brinkmanship.

And with depressing regularity we are collectively shamed by the harassment and intimidation of ethnic minorities who have arrived on these shores hoping to forge good and productive lives for their families and communities.

As we navigate dangerous moments at home and watch our foreign policy play out abroad, there is reason to despair. But what we often forget - and what the media rarely reminds us of - is that there are a lot of reasons to be hopeful as well.

And for concrete examples of that, we need look no further than a gathering taking place in Belfast this week of people working in the local governments, business sectors and voluntary organisations of 16 of the world’s most divided cities.

Some of these cities have put their troubled pasts behind them - Belfast and Derry-Londonderry, Berlin, Sarajevo - while others are in the throes of war right now: Baghdad, Kirkuk, and Tripoli in Lebanon.

Part of a group called Forum for Cities in Transition, delegates meet every year to share experiences of building and rebuilding in places where the odds for success - sometimes even the odds for survival - seem long.

This year Belfast will play host, sharing its story of transformation under the theme Promoting Reconciliation Through Resilience. The gathering aims to promote and support grassroots solutions and concrete outcomes from the many discussions that take place there.

The forum is organised around a simple principle: it is the cities that are transitioning away from division and conflict that are in the best position to help other cities through similar transitions. The interesting thing about this gathering is that the focus is not solely on the high-prestige, high-media value work of peace talks, nor does it concentrate on headline-grabbing acts of violence and war.

Instead, it understands that all cities, but especially cities in transition, have common problems ranging from policing to garbage collection to road construction.

And in addition to those issues, which are hugely important in the every day lives of citizens, many cities experiencing conflict must also identify flashpoints that trigger violence and develop mechanisms to control and contain such outbreaks.

It is this mundane work that allows some semblance of normal life to continue in many of these strife-ridden places - and it also fails, for the most part, to make headlines.

The old newsroom adage, ‘if it bleeds, it leads,’ is true not just in tabloid culture but also applies to the fact that with the media in general, division, rancour and in-fighting get much more media coverage than the painstaking work of coming together.

INTERVIEW - Resilience, Unity, Transformation, Hope: How One School Is Helping Vulnerable Students Succeed

On the way to a YouthBuild rally at Los Angeles City Hall

by Julia Wasson, National Board Certified Teacher in Laurel Canyon, Huffington Post: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/julia-wasson/post_7558_b_5306916.html

YouthBuild is an innovative chain of leadership development, education and job training schools for young people aged 16-24 who have left high school without diplomas.

Michelle Miranda, founder of R.U.T.H. (Resilience Unity Transformation Hope), the Canoga Park site, is fiercely committed to her students' success.

Miranda's students are those often considered the most challenging to serve and least likely to graduate: approximately 90 percent Latino, 20 percent undocumented, 30 percent teen parents.

More than half of them have been involved with the law, and Miranda works regularly with her students' parole officers.

Miranda runs a tight ship. On my first visit, the only thing out of place in the impeccably kept storefront facility is a fruit roll-up wrapper on the hall floor. Ms. Miranda whisks it up saying, "We'll have to find out who's responsible!"

As we walk past an open classroom door, she brandishes the wrapper demanding politely, "Who was eating pink fruit roll-ups?" "Don't trip, Ms. Miranda," says a young man seriously, taking it from her. "We'll figure it out."

Miranda talks about her her vision for young people below.

Why were you drawn to YouthBuild?

I love the holistic approach to young people. Before YouthBuild I worked for an organization doing after-school tutoring. We went into homes, and I noticed so many young people over 18 who hadn't finished school, couldn't get jobs, and were living off their parents. The parents would ask us over and over, "Can you help us? Can you help our kids?" I researched options and liked the YouthBuild approach.

Why does YouthBuild succeed?

Our students are used to throwing in the towel. We get a lot of students coming in, making great progress, until a situation may come up in their lives. We try to look at our students the same way I look at my son. I care about his education, but I'm also asking about a roof over his head, noticing if his cough lasts longer than two weeks, the look on his face when walks in the door. When I'm looking to hire a math teacher, teaching math is only half the skill set. I need to know he believes young people are capable of wonderful things; that he can look past negative behavior while still addressing it. 

Can you give us an example?

One student had dropped out of traditional high school. When we sat down and talked, he mentioned that when he was in elementary school his dad left, and his uncle started molesting him. This young man said, "Miss, I remember my teacher saying, 'Why don't you care about math, you didn't do your math homework,' and as a kid I was just worried about surviving." Many people believe that dropouts are bad kids or lazy, but some of these young people have gone through difficult things in life they didn't bring on themselves. The public school system is cutting back on counseling, and these young people show up, but don't always have the support they need. What was more important in that young man's life? Every young person has a story. I am constantly blown away. I've been through so much, but I still had it good. Sometimes young people don't realize how resilient they are, they just see what they're not. They begin to believe what they hear from people in the community - that they're never going to amount to anything. These students are smart; they'll even mention that they know when adults have given up on them. The adults quit scolding, and just let them do whatever they want. The students know what that means.

Can you describe a moment with a student that sticks with you?

One of our students came in at 23-years-old and undocumented. He had two children already, and he struggled with having to balance work, school, full custody of his children, keeping them housed. YouthBuild was the only program that could support him. He shared his life with us and allowed us to be that support. On graduation day he called and said, "I can't make it, my aunt won't babysit because I didn't give her money." Staff held up the graduation, held the music, and said, "Just get here, don't worry, we'll sit with your kids." When he graduated he had no family in the audience except his two kids, one in diapers and one maybe four years old. When he walked the stage everybody knew his story. He got the loudest applause, and the look on his face ... I will never forget.

Tell us about the Ruth, the inspiration for the name of your site

My grandmother, Ruth Rodriguez, came to the United States in the 1917 with my great grandparents to avoid religious persecution in Mexico. While my grandmother was a teen working the fields of Santa Paula, she met and married my grandfather. Life as a migrant farm laborer was difficult, as they moved to follow the crops. My grandmother fed the farm laborers out of my grandfather's truck. She got an oil drum and bent the top to make a burner for cooking tortillas. She used the drums that were dented even more for cooking beans, and frying up carnitas. We would tell her that she probably had the first taco truck. Through hard work and perseverance, they raised four children, looking at every obstacle as a steppingstone. From working the fields they went on to own a grocery store, a hot dog stand, a shoe store and a flower shop. With only a third grade education, my grandmother worked hard in order to provide a beautiful life and a better future for her family.

Ruth Rodriguez, whose unstoppable determination to make a better life for her family inspired Miranda.
I remember the lessons my grandmother taught my cousins and me about God, morals and values, manners, compassion, and giving. One year when I was about five, my grandmother picked me up days before Christmas and told me to choose one of my presents from under the Christmas tree and bring it with us. She took me to a garage where a family lived. That's right, a garage. I remember one of the windows was broken and they had covered it with foil. It was very cold. There must have been seven people living in that garage. My grandmother leaned down and whispered into my ear, "Go give your gift to the little girl." I was so upset, because I thought I was going to open MY present, that's why I picked the biggest box. I walked across the room and gave it to the girl. As I watched her open the only gift she was going to get for Christmas, I received a love for giving and doing for others. When my grandmother passed in 2002, they had to close the streets in Bakersfield because so many came to honor her life.

Do you see young people today with that kind of determination?

Irvin came into our program deeply involved with a local gang in a high-up position. He was always more part of a problem in the community. He showed up for class with one piece of paper and a pencil behind his ear. Staff wondered if he would stay. He was checking us out, not sure if this was what he wanted. But he kept showing up. Students were a little fearful, they said, "Don't mess with him because after school, away from YouthBuild, something could go down." But he started taking classes, building his credits, opening up to staff - this hard young man became the young boy that he was. He ran for our Youth Policy Council and was elected. In April we have Government Education Days, and students go to Sacramento and meet other YouthBuild students. They visit Senator Padilla's office and share about their experience, and let the senator know how his office can help support young people who are stepping into leadership and flipping the script. One student had prepared the initial presentation and first introduction, and Ervin said, "Let me, let me." No one messes with him, so the others said, "Go ahead." He walked in and said, "My name is Ervin, I'm from YouthBuild, and I'm not here for myself, I'm here representing my community." At that moment I sat out of spotlight to the side, and I thought about a young man who at one point had thought it was all about him. This was such a beautiful growth. That's what YouthBuild is about, that's leadership, rebuilding our life in our community. I will never forget that moment. I'm tearing up now. Students come back and say, "Miss, YouthBuild saved me."

When did you know you were at the right place doing the right work?

Before finding our building and opening our program, I ran into every obstacle. I drained my savings account, I poured in every penny. When we opened on the first day of mental toughness class, students came in with their eyes wide open. We weren't quite a school; I didn't know what leadership was, but I felt the staff's excitement. We managed. Then students left, the staff left and the last set of fluorescent lights were on in my office. I put my hands down and breathed and realized, "I did it. I got the doors open, and the students who came in had hope. These students have been hanging out in the community not doing anything, and now they have direction and virtue and they're part of something. They're part of a program where people care." It was a great moment. The sounds, the fresh carpet smell, everything in that moment I hope I never forget.

R.U.T.H. YouthBuild assembling at the rally. Photo: Melissa O'Connell.
What is your favorite part of the day at YouthBuild?

Lunchtime, because I enjoy catching up with the young people. Now our students get the federal lunch program, but before that started, our staff made food. We took money out of our own pockets to make a big old pot of spaghetti, or we brought a grill and barbecued hot dogs so our students could eat.

What do you hope you offer your students?

Some of our students come in with their academic skills so deficient. I hope they walk away empowered, that they see their own worth and know that whatever happens in life, they have what it takes to overcome. YouthBuild and the relationships they've formed will always be here for them.

What keeps you up at night?

You didn't ask me about my least favorite part of the day. The worst time of day for me is at 3:40, when we dismiss. I know there are a few young people still struggling with their leadership, and I know the temptations out on the streets. In just one moment they can lose track of the ground they've gained.

What you hope your students believe about you?

That I care. The students told me, "You're behind the scenes, but we see you, Miss, pulling so many different projects for us." They have my back 100 percent. They come in my office to hang out, and the next thing you know, they are handling business. Those young people have taken a load off me. On my wipe-off board I list the agendas for staff and Youth Policy Council meetings. The staff agenda listed attendance, and one student said, "Look Miss, we see you wrote attendance." I said, "Yeah, it's dropping," so he added it to the Youth Policy Council agenda, saying, "It's not just your problem, it's our problem."

YouthBuild pride! Young people rebuilding their lives and communities. Photo: Melissa O'Connell
What are the rewards for you?

I feel fulfilled. Now my goal is for the future - I would love that on the day I retire, I can pass the torch to one of our students, and have an alumnus lead this beautiful work. YouthBuild has saved me, too. I've had a couple of failed marriages. Life's going to throw things at us. One guarantee is, you'll hit obstacles! Watching students come in and beat the odds, when we see them cross the stage at graduation, those are little miracles. When I go through challenges in my life, I look back at our students and tell myself, "Quit crying, you can do this." They give me virtue. They are my heroes.