Meridith Murley- Uncertainty

​As we find ourselves in the midst of a pretty unprecedented time in recent history, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to live and serve in an uncertain world. Events are canceled, organizations are trying to provide services in a totally new way, and people are having to adapt in a constantly changing environment. For many folks that serve in AmeriCorps, the specific uncertainty in this situation is new, but the feeling of being uncertain is not. Almost by definition, giving a year of your life in service of your community is uncertain. The pay is low, the scope of work can be vast, and the community is often new to us. Even if we are serving in the community that we grew up in, often we take on a different role. We get to see another side to a community that is so well-known to us. Service is the foundation of AmeriCorps, but I would argue that it is a foundation built upon uncertainty.
 
A quick note before I get too far into this blog- this isn’t meant to make an equivalency between the uncertainties that I had as a VISTA member to the uncertainty that millions of people across the world are facing. This isn’t the same situation as someone who has lost a job, or a loved one, to this crisis. It’s not the same feeling as someone that is in an unsafe quarantine situation, or that struggles to provide for their children that are out of school. I recognize that this entire blog is predicated upon the fact that I don’t have to withstand that uncertainty, and I understand that the opportunity to choose uncertainty is something that not everyone has. But if you do happen to have the ability to choose uncertainty, my advice is to take that choice.
 
When I served in Alcona County last year, I was anything but certain that it was the right move. I was actually pretty convinced that it was not. I had just quit my job as an engineer and moved to a 400 person village in Northeastern Michigan. There was so little cell service in the area that I got lost twice just trying to make it back to I-75 (that’s also partially due to my intense inability to navigate without Google Maps). I started my service on the first day of school at Alcona High School, and as I sat in the principal’s office waiting to meet my new supervisor, I was pretty sure that I had made one of the dumbest decisions in my very short professional career. Spoiler alert- I was wrong. The year I spent in Alcona taught me more than I could have ever anticipated. I saw the struggles of a rural district that was trying to do its best to support students and their families. I learned about educators and staff that would go home at night thinking of ways to bridge the gap between the resources students needed and the funding they received. I saw how much a community relied on their school. I also learned more about Beyblades, Minecraft, teenager slang (apparently I’m old), and farming than I ever thought was possible. I navigated public assistance systems, picked up a series of second jobs, and understood the stress of having a $250 electric bill in the middle of winter. But I also learned the extent of my ability to bend instead of breaking. I learned how much I loved working with teenagers and hearing about their lives. And I learned that maybe making a major career move wasn’t the worst choice after all.
 
Starting this year as VISTA Leader, I was pretty certain that I’d like the work. There was a lot to learn, there were new people to work with, and I genuinely liked going to work every day. When my supervisor told me that she was leaving of the organization, I was elated for her, but also quickly back in familiar territory- uncertainty. I’ve spent the last six to eight months being uncertain. Not in my new supervisor, or in the support of my organization, or even in the VISTA members that I was tasked with supporting (seriously, they’re all amazing human beings that I’m lucky to serve with). I was uncertain in myself.
 
I wasn’t sure that I would be able to step up and fill a part of the incredibly big shoes that Maggie left. To be honest, I’m still not sure that I can fill those shoes. But part of handling that uncertainty meant learning to rely on the people around me- my coworkers, my fellow VISTA members, and other VISTA Leaders- all of whom gave help and support willingly. It meant that I learned how much work I could actually juggle and that I got better at thinking on my feet. I’ve been handed responsibility I wasn’t sure that I was ready for, and I was given the space to grow so that I could handle it.
 
As we move into the recruitment season, I get the privilege of chatting with potential members of next year’s cohort to get a better understanding of their background and interests. Candidates for these positions are often starting their careers, and aren’t much different from me when I started to look at AmeriCorps. So many of these people are also uncertain, and that’s okay. Change, especially risky change, can be hard and scary. Being uncertain doesn’t mean that the choice is a bad one, and owning up to uncertainty doesn’t mean that you’ll fail. It just means that you’re human.
 
Uncertainty isn’t always fun. It’s pretty much never comfortable. But, in the right dose, it can also bring true clarity to a situation. Serving in Alcona, I realized how much I love working with teenagers. I realized how passionate I was about service, justice, and equity. As a VISTA Leader, I learned how to grow under pressure and how to ask for help. I got to meet and serve with some of the coolest, kindest people that I’ve ever met. I’m a better human because of AmeriCorps VISTA, and I’m so grateful for the opportunities that it’s given me, especially the ability to choose uncertainty.