Page 106 of Then Came the Fall
“Exactly. That’s why the Trinity Center was put here. It used to be a school run by the church, but a few years back, a bunch of Christian schools closed down. No money. Not enough kids enrolled. The usual. But the community rallied around the kids and felt that the space should be used for something to benefit everyone living here. Our assemblywoman was a huge supporter of turning the school into a community center. She helped us get funding from the state, and we opened the center three years ago.”
“That’s awesome.”
“It really is. We run a camp in the summer and an after-school program during the year. Open center nights for teens on weekends. Membership is ten bucks a year or a dollar a month, and the kids really have ownership of the place. Most of the employees are volunteers from the neighborhood, like Miss Lamont, who you met at the desk.”
“It must make such a difference.”
“It does. We’ve partnered with NYU in a longitudinal study about gang violence, and we’re hoping that the center will point our kids in the right direction so that gang initiation slows down over time. It’s part of a revitalization effort taking place in Jamaica.”
I smiled. “That’s incredible.”
“Can you tell me about your experiences working with low-income kids?”
“Sure,” I replied. “To start with, I—” I paused. I wasn’t sure how to talk about my upbringing without airing all my family’s dirty laundry.Not appropriate in an interview.“Let’s just say I know firsthand how it feels to need the basics: new shoes, for example.”
Gabby nodded, and I continued.
“I had a pretty traumatic childhood until I went away to college. Being away from home was really good for me. I majored in psychology, but I didn’t a hundred percent know what I wanted to do with my life until I started my master’s program in social work. When I got the internship at the Boys & Girls Club, I had the opportunity to feel like I was part of the solution in downtown Hartford. I taught dance classes to girls ages seven to fourteen, and many of them told me that it was the best part of their week. They used to share stories about their lives and their families, and I realized that there were kids out there who had it just as bad, if not worse, than I’d had it. Many of them came from public housing, and some struggled to find food to eat on a regular basis. The only thing that kept my family from living like that when I was a child was the generosity of my aunt, who helped us out a lot financially.”
Gabby listened intently, shifting in her chair.
“Anyway,” I continued. “It was so meaningful to offer these girls a bright spot, you know? Something nice to look forward to after school.”
“And how did that translate into you working at the sleepaway camp?”
“Well, I just got my master’s this past spring. I wanted to find a job that started right away, and I stumbled across an ad for the assistant camp director. For me, it was a no-brainer, working there. It was kind of like going home.”
“Was there much socio-economic diversity there?”
“To be honest, no. Not really. But something I’ve learned is that all kids have problems. Neglect knows no status. Poor parenting has nothing to do with money.”
Gabby nodded, impressed with my answer. “So, you’ve dealt with your share of behavioral issues?”
“Oh, definitely. I’ve busted kids for sneaking out in the middle of the night. Drinking. Drugs. Fighting. It’s a funny thing, really. You learn so much in a sleepaway camp setting about tackling challenging behavior because youlivewith these kids. There’s no escaping them; no reprieve, you know?”
“I hadn’t considered that. But I guess it makes sense.”
Gabby asked more questions, ranging from what I studied in school to discipline policies I’d used that had worked to a time when I made a mistake and how I fixed it. Before I knew it, over an hour had passed and Gabby excused herself to use the restroom.
Moments later, when she returned, she sat down and leaned forward in her chair. “I have to be honest with you,” she began.
Uh-oh. I took a breath.Okay. It’s like Matt said. Just a practice interview.I reviewed my answers in my head, wondering where I went wrong.
“This is not something I would typically do,” Gabby went on. “But I just feel a connection to you somehow. Like a gut instinct thing. Does that ever happen to you?”
Unsure of what was coming next, I nodded.
“I think you’d be a really good fit here at Trinity. I’d like to offer you the job, Taylor. The salary is $60,000 dollars a year to start with full health benefits.”
“Really?” My eyes went wide.
“Yes,” Gabby said.
“Don’t you have a selection committee?”
“We do, but I’m in charge of it,” Gabby replied. “Here’s the thing. I’m moving to D.C. My husband left to set up our house about a month ago. He’s a teacher, and his whole family is down there. He’s been waiting on me, but I promised the board here that I wouldn’t leave until I found someone to take over for me.”
“Oh,” I replied, swallowing, trying to take in the whirlwind of information coming at me.
