#ucsbcab

My college experience has been messy. There’s really no other way to describe it. I came to this university with the broad notion of doing something international, but without the know-how to make a real decision about my future. I just knew that I wanted to do something positive for the world. I discovered myself here. I found great pain here. I came into consciousness here. I healed here. I continue to need this place.

The organizations I have been involved with while attending UCSB have demarcated my experiences here. As I have grown increasingly politicized on issue areas that affect me, I have found myself reaching out to different organizations, seeking a connection with a group of individuals similar to myself. I haven’t been successful, until this year.

My personal growth happened gradually, over a couple of years of self-help and destruction. It didn’t happen suddenly, and it wasn’t magical. After two years of mental health therapy, I could feel myself gestating. Throughout this time, I had been withdrawn to myself, and to the people that I love and care for. It was necessary, for what I was healing from. But then, two years later, I was able to take time away from healing myself, and focus on healing my community.

I have come to love and know Isla Vista over the last four years. I have seen the issues that it faces, and I have seen the beauty that it produces. I love the little pockets of parks, the families that come to reside here, and the odd-ball mix of stakeholders that truly love this place. I knew that I wanted to be a part of the processes of change, even if I was to be just a small drop in the bucket.

CAB seemed like the best place to begin. Every week, I would get e-mails from them, jam-packed with opportunities to envelop myself in IV. They were full of versatile programs with adorable nicknames, along with descriptions of other great events occurring on campus. At first, I was overwhelmed; after neglecting my community service responsibilities, I didn’t want to begin volunteering and come off as a seasonal activist or volunteer. I wanted to be permanent, in the community. For Isla Vista.

Despite my hesitations, I decided to jump right in. The first event of CAB’s that I had attended in years was a weekly street cleaning. Even though I did not know anyone involved, I felt welcomed and humbled by the large group of people who chose to dedicate their Friday afternoon to cleaning the streets of IV. I remember, as we walked out of the IV Rec & Parks office with our grabbers and buckets, how proud I felt to be a part of this group. I saw my boyfriend at the bus stop near the Isla Vista Food Co-op and exclaimed, ‘I’m helping!’ After two years of being shut off, focusing on my own self-healing, it felt great to be using my newfound resources to give back.

I did not originally plan on becoming involved in leadership with CAB. I was already dividing my responsibilities between many different organizations, and was happy to be quietly volunteering at events without really getting to know any of the other CABbies (and embarrassing myself at the occasional meeting by spilling hot water everywhere or sucking at small talk). When I received a weekly CARE mail, however, I noticed there was a position vacancy in the CAB Foundation, a grant awarding organization affiliated with CAB in Associated Students. I decided to apply.

After spending a couple of weeks with the CAB Foundation (which is a fascinating, extremely rewarding organization that will get its own post), I was informed that there was a liaison position open between CAB and CAB Foundation: a position as a community outreach coordinator. Over this time, I had been interested in becoming more involved with CAB, but wasn’t sure if I was ready to take on the responsibilities of a coordinator. What if I wasn’t able to effectively represent the community? What if I failed at organizing large events like CARE Expo? I knew that if I were to commit to this position, I would have to do it whole-heartedly. After some deliberation, I decided to do so, and was very excited when I learned that I had been chosen for the position.

From that moment on, I have been privileged enough to be a part of the magic of CAB, and my only wish is that I had joined sooner.

Everything you need to know about CAB can be found at a weekly leader board meeting. In these meetings, consisting of about 20-25 people, there are not only the snacks and fun ice breakers that CAB is so well known for: there is true happiness, and a desire to bring that happiness into the community.

Community and campus organizations flock to CAB with their funding requests, presuming that CAB is supportive of any attempt to bring the community together in a positive way. They are right for believing this. The leaders of CAB want to implement their programs along with everyone else’s, and debates over how to approve funding requests often have more to do with logistics than on the specific missions of each group.

Take one moment to speak up at a CAB leader meeting and you will see the inclusivity and mutual respect that can be found there. While you’re giving your input, your fellow board members will not only listen, but they will try wholeheartedly to understand your perspective, and find some way to incorporate it into theirs. CAB is not a place where political bickering or power politics play into the decision-making processes. Everyone’s ideas are respected, and everyone is valued.

No organization I have been a part of has been as accepting and open to new ways of thinking. If you propose an idea to the CAB board, you will not be met with skepticism, but with love and encouragement. The organizers of this BCC have created an environment where individuals not only support each other’s project ideas, but help them become realities. I can’t count the amount of times someone in CAB has come up with a great idea, only to have it seen through with the combined resources and efforts of everyone on board.

And talk about programing! Every week, CAB hosts 20+ events on their own, and funds and sponsors even more than that. If I even do as much as blink, someone has come up with a new program that will soon enough become integral to the process. In CAB, programs don’t only begin; they last.

More than any other group I’ve seen or been involved with, CAB understands what it means to be a part of a community, and what it means to give as much as you take. After a CAB event or social, there is never a concern over who will clean up, or who will close up the spaces we have used. Everyone is involved in the entire process, and it’s not strenuous or forced at all. Everyone understands the individual role they play in the collective organizing we are doing.

I feel so lucky to have found home with CAB. In previous groups, I have often felt as if my ideas and input were not appreciated or understood. CAB not only has the resources to implement your ideas, but the passion and follow-through to see them through when the resources are gone. As I have nurtured myself over the last four years, CAB has nurtured me, too: my personal growth, my current life choices, and the trajectory of my future are all owed to CAB, and the sense of communal responsibility that it fosters.

I have often found myself wondering how CAB has grown to be such a positive and relentless communal group. For all purposes, it is just like any other organization: similar office spaces, same students, same by-laws, same mission statement. But there are, and always will be, things that stand out: a little tray of cookies left in the office for anyone to take; the simple crafts projects we do for each other around the holidays; the giant paper tree that encompasses a column in the main office; the helpful and supportive group texts; the diverse and creative ice breakers; and, most importantly, the work that CAB does for the community: relentlessly, tirelessly, and without asking for any recognition.

For those of you that are just now finding CAB: congratulations. My only regret at UCSB, despite everything that I have been through, is not joining CAB sooner. I encourage you to take every opportunity with CAB with open arms, and be assured that you will be received with the same openness.

For those of you who do not yet know CAB, but might in the future: CAB is still a resource and safe place for you. When the tension of campus life becomes too much to handle, you can seek refuge in the CAB office. You will be greeted with happiness, good conversation, TOO much free food, and a plethora of opportunities to empower yourself through communal giving.

This is my love letter to CAB, and everyone who I have met through it: you reflect the person I want to be, and you are shaping the person I will become. Seeing your smiling faces at every volunteer event, at every office meeting, and at every social, has bred in me a deep optimism, the likes of which I have not felt since I first became depressed at age 16. Thank you for giving me the tools I need to build myself up, and for teaching me what it means to be an active member of my community.

Just like I do, the community recognizes CAB, and loves it for what it is: a culture of positivity in a student government that can be hostile, divisive, and stagnated. No matter what happens in Associated Students, CAB remains as a beacon of bright light that serves the community, in any way it can.

Kayaking with CAB: Being a part of CAB's leader board means you get to have great socials with even greater people! A couple of weekends ago, our group went Kayaking at Santa Barbara harbor. Along with getting a peak at some seals hiding underneath the boats, we got to experience the excitement of racing and getting (kind of) lost in the harbor!

When calling to mind idyllic spring break locals the Mississippi River delta is not usually on the list. Before embarking on our journey I anticipated the sense of accomplishment that volunteering in this region would give, but one thing I certainly did not predict was how fun it would be. Everywhere we went we found ourselves smiling and singing along the way. The volunteer work we did, whether it was painting a long hallway, hanging pictures, organizing promotional papers, teaching classes on healthy eating and sex ed or arranging furniture at a Habitat for Humanity store, was all fundamentally fun. We even enjoyed mulching a playground. Didn’t realize that was possible. And that was just while we were working. In our down time we ate some of the most delicious meals and met some of the most fascinating people it has ever been my pleasure to know. I won’t bore you with detailed lists of names and ingredients (although they’re all cataloged in my head) but general themes were everything under the sun battered and fried and the most incomprehensibly generous souls. Halfway through the week this started to weigh on us all. We were having a fantastic Spring Break in a place where most people would never make it to College to know what that means. We were being stuffed to the gills with delicacies and kindness in a place where many people go hungry and children are born to teenagers without the adequate resources and support to show them the love they deserve. How could we really be doing good with such inconsistency? How could we possibly give back enough to even the score? Being surrounded by these genuinely fascinating intelligent people I think we were all confronted with the injustice of privilege. It is hard to see yourself as a beneficiary of an unfair system especially when it is so apparent that there is no meritocracy in it. I am no better no more deserving of opportunity then anyone I met yet purely by virtue of where I was born so much more is available to me. It’s a tough pill to swallow. Yet you really can’t know a place based on its statistics. Everyone we encountered seemed genuinely happy. They had a sense of community and unconditional love unlike any I’ve ever seen. I was struck by the fact that time and again the responses to “What do you like most about Greenville” were without hesitation “the people”. I am so used to living in places where people chase status and prestige material wealth of ever skyrocketing proportions. Here all those seemed like far off concerns. The waiters and cooks we met were proud of their food, their contributions. As Mary a custodian at the YMCA and a great-grandmother said “You just do what you do the best you can do it.” It was so refreshing that people had pride in what they did whatever it was and kept perspective. After all a job is a job. Relationships feed the soul. If happiness is life’s objective then the people of the Mississippi delta have a lot to teach the rest of the world. And that’s how we ended up justifying our excessively good time to ourselves. As one group member said compassion is a relationship between equals where each sees what the other lacks and tries to help how they can. Maybe the people of the delta knew that we came from a place where unconditional kindness to perfect strangers is rarely shown. They gave us that and it stirred something deeply in each of us. And the only thing we can do to repay them is to carry that lesson back to our normal lives. This way we ensure that the impact of our trip lasts far beyond the week we spent there. And I think it’s our duty to tell people the truth about the delta. That their way of life is valuable. It’s easy to get cocky when you grew up in the Silicon Valley the epicenter of the tech world and go to school on a beach in Southern California. But your surroundings are only as valuable as the people you enjoy them with and, despite all the systemic problems they face, the people of Greenville MS get that.

The truth hurts. Aside from the catchy jumprope song (M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I) that is sung by elementary school students on the playground at recess, Mississippi is a state that unfortunately is not often talked about or glamorized. Before explaining that I was going there to volunteer, when I told others I was going to Greenville, MS for Spring Break, I definitely got some confused faces. Little did they or I know that this volunteering experience would actually be far more than a trip to the South. With each little bit that I gave, I gained so much more. With each lesson I taught, the learning overshadowed it. I am so grateful for having the opportunity to experience such a humbling and inspiring Alternative Break. So thank you! 

Thank you to Kevin, who coordinated our trip amazingly and truly showed us that there is something special about Mississippi. 

Thank you to Marjorie, the adorable old woman who allowed us to arrange her intricate quilled art pieces at the Greenville Arts Center and taught us the very skills she uses to make each masterpiece.

Thank you to Ben, who allowed us to volunteer at the Greenville Arts Center through painting, organizing and rearranging. 

Thank you to Graham and Blaire, two TFA teachers who shared their own personal stories about volunteering and gave us advice on the classroom setting in general.

Thank you to the Ms. Moser, who allowed us to teach two lessons at the Sunflower Freedom Project after school program and gave us the opportunity to get to know and learn from her students personally.

Thank you to Kierra, a student at the Sunflower Freedom Project who reminded me that it is ok, and in fact wise, to ask all sorts of questions to gain knowledge by asking me for advice on something she needed help on. 

Thank you to Bob, who provided us with a place to stay at the YMCA, which simultaneously gave us a taste of the community. 

Thank you to Saundra, who showed us that anything is possible if there is desire and will. 

Thank you to Charles, who gave us an entire dinner on the house at Doe's Eat Place out of gratitude for the work that we were doing in their community. 

Thank you to Booker T. Washington Elementary School, who--by allowing by to volunteer at her elementary school--showed us through her students that dreams are what you make of them.

Thank you to Lisa and Katherine, who welcomed our help with open arms and showed us that it is the impact rather than actual act of service that makes all the difference.

And thank you to AS CAB, for making all of this possible.

There is still so much to do in this world and for this world, but this trip has taught me that something is always better than nothing, and I want to continue this "something" for the rest of my life.

Before embarking on CAB’s recent Alternative Spring Break to the Mississippi Delta, I purposely tried not to envisage what the experience would be like, at least not with specificity. I did not want to set expectations, especially in a place I had never been to before. Though it may be premature (we returned only yesterday), I can say with conviction that I am glad I did. I feel like I entered Mississippi as this malleable, moldable clay and left with a certain understanding that I am currently struggling to express in words. I titled this post, “Feeling Beauty in the Delta” because, though I visually saw immaculate beauty at the Mississippi River and tasted beauty in the form of fried pickles, the beauty arisen through my interactions with the people in the Delta is far and away the most lasting. It is the first thing that gets conjured up when I reflect. To keep this post concise and less all over the place than it already may appear to be, I simply want to highlight a few things that have stood out to me about the people I interacted with. One, people are incredibly generous and giving. Seemingly everywhere we went, people offered us their stories, their time, hosted us, and gave us insight, all with this palpable love. Two, the people of the Mississippi Delta are just like us. What I mean by this, is that when hearing of the problems in the Delta (poverty, obesity, segregation) and seeing how life is so different from what most of us in the group were accustomed to, feeling different from the people there is a sentiment that can arise. The sentiment I left with, however, was that through the Southern accents and delicious Southern foods, the people are just like us: they like sports, they work hard, and they love their families. If this part is still unclear, all I am trying to assert is that I felt this disconnect with the people of the Delta and myself (a California kid) during the first day or two of the trip. As our experience continued, I found myself relating so well with the Deltans. It really doesn’t matter where you come from. The people of the Mississippi Delta, and all around the nation, deserve the opportunity that we, as Californians have. I returned to Santa Barbara with a strong feeling of camaraderie as an American, a feeling that typically has evaded me for whatever reason. The feeling of beauty gave me an impression of united-ness. And it feels darn good, y’all. If you’ve read this far down, I HIGHLY encourage you to participate in the plethora of amazing opportunities for growth and learning that CAB offers. Peace and Love.