So it's going on a month (we graduated on April 4) since I graduated from the CSN/Salvation Army Culinary Program. I forgot to mention that we were presented with an impressive-looking medallion inscribed with our names and graduation date on the back. Our certificates arrived a few days ago. Suitable for framing? Sure, if you like framing a sheet of toilet paper. While I appreciate the course -- and am lucky to have survived all that nonsense with my wits (mostly) intact -- the so-called marketable certificate looks like something a grade-schooler can make on a home computer. Honestly, the certificate leaves so much to be desired that I doubt I'll include it with my resumes and applications. That way a potential employer might not think that I made it myself as a promotional gag.
Here's what some of my classmates have been up to since graduation: My former teammates have both scored jobs. Rain Man got a gig as a waiter at Applebees, while Pitbull went off to Utah to work as a cook at Zion National Park. The latter is apparently doing okay as his girlfriend moved up there with him. The former volunteered in the SA kitchens until his workload picked up. Haven't seen him for a while; there's speculation that he may have moved out.
The outspoken woman known as AJ has moved from the SA campus as well. She finished her parole commitment(s) and has moved back to her home somewhere in North Las Vegas. Last I heard she was "just chillin'" with her six kids from five different fathers. If she lives up to her promise to "smoke as much weed as I can" after her parole I expect she might end up behind bars again.
A guy I liked named JJ was kicked out of the SA program a few days after graduation. He was tardy far too often to the kitchen. Even though I was sometimes dispatched to his room to wake him up, I actually liked the guy. He was fairly simple, with an oddly angular face that gave him an elfin appearance and was easy to get along with. I was sorry he had to go. He's moved in with an ex-SA client and her friends in Summerlin. The household consists of several SA clients who were booted out. I hear he's relapsed into heavy drug use.
Another guy with a lot of culinary experience was actually booted from SA before graduation, but was still allowed to matriculate with the rest of us. He's living in an extended stay motel somewhere downtown. In all, the culinary/kitchen of SA seems to have a lousy record of client success in the real world. Many of them end up getting fired, discouraged, and wind up back of drugs or alcohol -- or worse, they wind up back behind bars or on the streets. During their time of job training at SA, they don't seem to pay attention to the idea that nothing will change until they change themselves. It's not uncommon to see homeless guys wander into the SA free food cafe who turn out to have worked in the very same kitchen, or graduated from the very same culinary course.
That's always a sobering realization. More sobering is the case of a woman who was actually working in the SA Day Resource Center (DRC) when I first arrived there nearly six months ago. The DRC is the large building and adjacent courtyard where many homeless people spend their days reading, playing dominoes or chess, smoking (outside only), or staring blankly into space wondering about what went wrong (assuming they're capable of cogent thought). This lady worked at the reception desk as part of her rehab program, and was the person who directed me to speak with one of the caseworkers on site.
I didn't see her for a while --- you can understand my mind was on other things -- but later noticed her showing up in the line for free meals doled out daily by SA in the afternoon. I recall asking her how things were going in the DRC and she quietly replied, "I don't work there no more." I let it go and forgot about her until recently. She began showing up again at the SA cafe, but now seemed more agitated or twitchy. She gave no sign of recognition toward me. I did find out where she stays, though: You can find her camped out on the sidewalk with her gear directly in front of the very same building she used to work in. On occasion I've walked by to see her sleeping on the sidewalk. Unfortunately, this is not an isolated story; but it is one that resonates with me personally.
I've found it interesting that many of the people I've encountered at SA -- particularly the ones fresh out of prison -- seem to hold the same attitude: Everything bad in their life has been "done to them." They seem incapable of accepting personal responsibility for their actions; it's always somebody else's fault. For instance, when caseworkers told one woman parolee her behavior was unacceptably confrontational and her language was too vulgar she replied, "Hey man! I'm going through a lot of s**t, okay? Why can't you people just leave me the f**k alone?"
It's an attitude that's prevalent throughout the SA clientele. And it's that all-pervading ignorance that's become a prime motivator for me to move on. Where? Ah, you'll have to wait until the next episode. I'm outta time, so that's a wrap!
Quote of the Day:
"I can't stand any of these assholes, man. They're all walking pieces of s**t." -- Roommate #1's opinion of his fellow SA clients (hopefully he wasn't including your humble narrator)
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