Planting Seeds

No summer ever came back, and no two summers were ever alike. Times change, and people change; and if our hearts do not change as readily, so much the worse for us.

Nathaniel Hawthorne

As your time in your internship winds down, as tends to happen, you may find your thoughts entering contradictory movements: simultaneously reflecting back on the meaning of your experience and looking forward at what it will be like to go back home to your normal life. It is my hope that this experience has left you feeling fulfilled, you are feeling more connected to and part of the universe and its multitude of beings, and more dedicated to siding with life, love, and justice.

The journey home may be long and difficult. As you reflect back on your summer, a number of questions may be emerging for you – and some of you have already reflected on these points: How is it that you have changed or shifted? How have you expanded? What paths have you felt drawn toward? What do you feel a part of? What is the broader context of the work you have been doing? What have you and your internship organization accomplished? What work remains unfinished?

This reflection is designed to help you think about social change, as something collectively constructed, a long-haul, and an ongoing process; and to acknowledge that the fruits of our efforts might be humble, and cannot often be immediately seen, but the efforts are worthy, necessary and often transformational.

Reflection Questions:

  • What seeds do you feel you have planted through your efforts this summer and how do you hope they will grow beyond your internship?
  • What seeds were already planted in this work that you helped water?
  • What foundation did you build for others who come after you (or the more permanent staff and volunteers) to carry this work forward?
  • How will you stay engaged with your organization and carry your efforts forward after your internship?
  • Closing Words: Nothing of Egypt by Dionne Brand

    Revolutions do not happen outside of you,
    they happen in the vein,
    they change you and you change yourself,
    you wake up in the morning changing.
    You say this is the human being I want to be.
    You are making yourself for the future,
    and you do not even know the extent of it when
    you begin but you have a hint,
    a taste in your throat
    of the warm
    elixir
    of the possible.

    from Bread Out of Stone
    (Toronto: Knopf Canada, 1998)