Updates

Just what does it take to beat the odds? To ensure success? To make the world a better place? or at least...our little corner of it? For starters, it takes a burning desire for change. But desire without drive is just wishful thinking. For sure, it takes tremendous courage. To go against the grain. To rock the boat. To say, “No, this is not okay.” But courage without commitment is just a false start. It certainly takes confidence. In oneself and others. But confidence without capability is just delusion. And most definitely it takes staying power. The willingness to go the distance.

The older I get, the more I’m convinced that there’s nothing a little reading couldn’t cure.

I’m not talking about the omnipresent self-help books – the likes of which constitute a $10+ billion industry in the United States alone. Not at all.

For some reason – maybe for many reasons – most of which I admittedly do not understand, I woke up this morning having dreamed about Shelley’s poem “Ozymandias.”

Contracture. Cardiovascular. Calcemia. Each of these words and many more are part of the day-to-day vocabulary of Caroline Center certified nursing assistant and certified pharmacy technician trainees.

But, “covfefe?” Well, that’s something else altogether.

Each time I think I’ll never see such a week again in our nation’s capital, something happens to prove me wrong. And, this Memorial Day week is shaping up to be no exception.

Knowing the history. And, continuing the work.

I, for one, am committed to carrying this essential wisdom forward – from Black History Month through Women’s History Month to my social justice Seder on Passover and well into the foreseeable future. But, let’s think for a moment about the time we are in – March and Women’s History Month.

Oftentimes, it’s the little things.  And, sometimes, it is just the matter of a truck.

Frequently, I receive phone calls from friends of Caroline Center who have furniture they are replacing and they ask me if there is a trainee or graduate who might be able to use what they don’t need anymore. The issue is never if we have a trainee or graduate who is in need; it is almost always a question of how we can get the items to her.

So, I pen this article for everyone getting dressed for work, who are putting on their masks. For every student who is not only carrying the textbooks to improve their minds, but who also bear the weight of this reality on their backs. For everyone who has wept this morning because they are sick and tired of being sick and tired.

Who am I? At the age of 34 years old, I’m still trying to find that out. When I was born, I was someone’s daughter. I had brothers and a sister. So, I was someone’s big sister and little sister.

The forgotten virtue of reverence, as classicist and writer Professor Paul Woodruff suggests, may very well be the mother of all virtues – the virtue that makes all of the other virtues possible.

Caroline Center’s newest trainees delved into their coursework and preparation to become certified nursing assistants/geriatric nursing assistants on January 7, 2016, in beautiful temporary space at St. Agnes Hospital in West Baltimore. As renovations to the permanent Gibbons Commons space are underway, we are grateful to St. Agnes Hospital and to a host of individuals who helped us prepare to welcome women to our growing Caroline Center family of healthcare professionals...

Dear Friends of Caroline Center, During the past year and through some difficult days in Baltimore, your dedication to Caroline Center gave us new courage, and your generosity strengthened our resolve and our commitment to women and work. As we anticipate the meaningful ways we will celebrate Caroline Center’s 20th Anniversary year together in 2015-2016, we are so very grateful to you for your past support of the Annual Fund and for lighting the spark of hope that will illuminate our path moving forward...

You can’t get around it.

You can’t talk around it. You can’t write around it. And, you certainly can’t walk around it. In fact, on any given day, on any given street in Baltimore, you may run right smack into it.

First of all, we go where the jobs are.

We’re Caroline Center. Committed to women. Committed to work. 

From “What It Takes“

This month, as a nation, we will commemorate a significant anniversary of freedom. June 19th, Juneteenth 2015, will mark 150 years since our country abandoned the practice of enslaving African people, thus ending two centuries of forced migration, uncompensated labor, and a myriad of other ills and inequities that could only persist if all people are not free.

“Everything is on the line. Know it or not, our very survival hangs in the balance. With a few meager possessions, we hurry out the door running to an unknown destiny.” The question is, “Can we get there from here?”

What a loss that some of Baltimore’s best employers continue to fly under the radar for “Top Workplace” recognition, especially when they consistently get high marks from their employees in all of the areas that a recent Baltimore Sun survey determined make people want to come to work each day. So, what keeps these great employers from making even a blip on the Sun’s “Top Workplace” radar? It may be that like Caroline Center they have fewer than the fifty employees required to be considered even a “small” company.

It’s January 2015. The New Year. And, as we welcome our 60th class of trainees to Caroline Center this month, I’ve been thinking a lot about #Black Lives Matter and the important conversations it is generating across the media.

The first chill in the air or the tiniest bit of frost on the pumpkin means I can bring out my favorite Squidfire hoodie and walk fearlessly into the fall. 002Before I even knew the name of the clever design, which is pure genius by the way, I fell in love with the art.

Ravens fans who are rushing to M&T Bank Stadium this week to cash in on the recent offer by the team to exchange their Ray Rice jerseys for less controversial, more desirable swag are not likely to pass by Caroline Center on their way.

We begin every new session at Caroline Center with a reading of Mary Oliver’s poem “The Journey.” It’s the ending of the poem, this last stanza, I think, that really gets to people.

The Julie Gold song “From a Distance” has long been a favorite of mine. And, as two strikingly different events converge this year – the 50th anniversary of President Lyndon B. Johnson’s “War on Poverty” and a rare meet-up in our own Milky Way galaxy of two unique, yet equally impressive entities, a spectacular gas cloud and an immense black hole with the mass of four million suns, Gold’s lyrics give us pause for thought...

A couple of years ago, I was at a local mall purchasing what is now a very outmoded version of the latest iPhon

Nearly 60% of the women who attend Caroline Center are or have been victims of domestic or relationship violence. Below, in her own words, is one of their stories. All names have been withheld to protect the innocent.

“My potential will carry me to a great place.”
Because so many of the women who attend Caroline Center come from similar backgrounds and have similar life experiences, the tendency to lump them all together under one label might be considered understandable. Understandable perhaps…but wrong.

We all want the same thing. To live – and raise our children – in a safe and nurturing environment. But let’s face it. It’s a perilous world. Danger lurks everywhere and sadly, you don’t have to venture beyond the menacing streets of our own troubled city to encounter it. In the last two months of this year alone (and this month is not over), there were more than 60 shootings and 40 homicides in Baltimore City. A public safety concern, by any definition.

On more than one occasion I have been told that if you really want to witness generosity, you only have to observe the poor. Conveyed to me by those who live and work among the poor, I have always accepted this idea at face value and as a lesson in humility. Then I started to think about all the incredibly generous people I know and all the beautiful acts of kindness I have witnessed in my own middle class life.

29-year-old Shawntae is unassuming. She sits off to the side in the crowded Caroline Center classroom. Quietly. By herself. The rest of the women are chatty and jokey, a thinly veiled attempt to hide their nervous excitement and hopeful expectation. Today is the day they find out if they passed the Pharmacy Technician final exam. Passing will mean the difference between continuing on to a working internship at a local pharmacy before graduation or flunking out of the program. So yes, most of them are slightly nervous. Except for Shawntae who sits there quietly. By herself...

Many of the women who enroll at Caroline Center come from similar backgrounds. Often, they are the product of either absent and indifferent parents or absent yet caring parents. The problem is absence of any kind, negligent or unavoidable, has its consequences. 23-year-old Caroline Center graduate, Tanora, is a product of the latter. The oldest of 4, Tanora was born to a single mother with limited education. This in turn limited her mother’s employment opportunities. In an effort to make ends meet, Tanora’s mother worked 2 full time jobs, leaving Tanora the adult task of raising her younger brothers and sisters and robbing her of her own childhood. In many ways, her path was set. It began with trouble at school. Middle school.

“Give a man a fish, he’ll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish, he’ll eat for a lifetime.” Ancient Chinese proverb

“Teach a woman to fish…she’ll feed the whole village.” Appended by Hillary Rodham Clinton

49-year old Cynthia Baker loves to work. She cannot remember a time when she didn’t. Wherever she’s lived, she’s worked. She worked as a young, single mother in Michigan. As a married woman in New York. And as a divorced mother of 4 in Maryland. There were some jobs she loved. Those were the ones that paid well, had good benefits, recognized her hard work, and gave her added responsibilities and promotions. Others were less fulfilling but helped Cynthia contribute to the family budget so she was grateful to have them.

26-year-old Sarah grew up in Baltimore City and Baltimore County. By her own admission, she preferred the county. It was safer and quieter and had better schools. She began high school at Overlea, a successful public school with a good reputation. But when her parents split up, she moved back to the city with her father. This decision forced her to switch schools. She had her first child, a daughter, when she was 16, which delayed her high school graduation by a year. Eventually, after night school and Saturday classes, Sarah graduated from Southwestern High School (a failing city school, which was ultimately closed). Sarah’s mother didn’t see her daughter graduate. She died of an accidental drug overdose the same week Sarah turned 18.

Twenty-three year old Brittany is, shall we say, outspoken. That is not to say she is pushy or loud or demanding of attention. It’s just that she’s not afraid to speak up. From the first day of orientation – when Counselor Yvonne Moten asked for volunteers to read aloud from the Caroline Center handbook and Brittany volunteered for every turn, to the day before graduation when the women were asked to reflect on their Caroline Center experience and Brittany offered 10 reflections for every one the other CNA’s offered – Brittany made her presence known.

On the first day of each new session, before class begins, the latest Caroline Center trainees gather together for orientation. After a few announcements, the staff turns the floor over to the women for what has become a familiar ritual. As they go around the room, each woman is asked to introduce herself and share with the others what it felt like to receive her letter of acceptance into the program. Without fail, what begins as a routine exercise in icebreaking eventually takes on aspects of the sacramental.

For the 53rd class of Caroline Center nursing assistant trainees, the nearly 4-month long program flew by. And now here they were – in the same room where just 15 weeks earlier they had quietly introduced themselves to each other and nervously waited for orientation to begin – about to debrief their instructors on the week of clinicals they had just completed at various healthcare centers around town. Back in September, their blue scrubs were stiff and starchy with newness. Now, they were well worn and broken in, the uniform of true professionals. The course had flown by, which is not to say it was easy. For months the women grappled with anatomy and physiology, struggled with medical terminology, and mastered state of the art patient care. And then they were sent into the field to practice on site what they’d learned in the lab. For a week they worked alongside other healthcare professionals at places like St. Elizabeth’s, Bayview, and Maria Health Care. They had learned a great deal and were eager to report on the experience.

Dear Friends of Caroline Center, There is a poem by the poet Mary Oliver that we read to each class of women on their first day at Caroline Center. It is called The Journey, and it describes the choice each woman makes when she sets her feet to the Caroline Center path...