The End of Entre Todas

Last December, the home in Santiago where I volunteered for two years called Entre Todas was forced to close down due to major funding cuts. The months leading up to the closing were difficult ones, the girls acting out more than usual, reminding me that children aren't built for such instability. Talking to a fifteen-year-old girl about not knowing where she was going to live, if it was going to be another group home or her own, chaotic, unsafe home, was a frighteningly hopeless experience. I felt worried for the girls who had lived at Entre Todas for seven or eight years together and were, for all intents and purposes, sisters. I felt worried for the girls whose cases were being expedited in a effort to get them back with their families instead of finding spots for them at other group homes. I felt worried for the eight-year-old who, as she watched the other girls leave the home one-by-one, still didn't know where she was going to live with just two weeks until the closing date of the home.

The girls began leaving in October and I quickly learned that I had to adopt a rather zen attitude about the whole process. The first girl was moved to her new home with no warning, leaving the other girls in tears, angrily demanding that the staff give them warning and some sort of recognition of the occasion. When the next two girls left, the staff provided a goodbye party, complete with balloons and Cheetos. Unfortunately, that type of celebration happened just that one time and it became the norm for me to arrive for my weekly shift at the home to find that someone else had been moved. I had to tell myself that the time I had spent with each girl was more important than saying good-bye. At a certain point I started to feel more removed from the process than anything else, knowing there wasn't anything I could do to change what was happening. As a co-volunteer and social worker reminded me, some of the girls were potentially getting the chance to move to a place with better care and attention. Although it had its bright moments, Entre Todas was never the best place for any of them.

The Entre Todas staff held a sweet good-bye party for the home itself, with dancing by some of the girls, slideshows of photos, homemade empanadas and speeches by staff members and a lot of the girls. Despite the leaky roof, the monotonous food and general chaos of the home, the girls had beautiful things to say about their time there. Although it may not always have been obvious, there was a lot of love and care there.

A few weeks ago, I went with Vicky, another former Entre Todas volunteer, to La Pintana, a municipality in the south of the city where ten of the girls live in two homes that are just around the corner from each other. It was the first time I had seen any of them since December, so it was incredible to see that they were doing well and that the homes they're living in seem, indeed, much nicer than Entre Todas. The girls we saw seemed happy for the most part and content to be where they are, which reminds me of their incredible resiliency and ability to adapt despite extremely shitty situations.

The younger girls we visited immediately asked when we'd be coming back to visit again, which made me think a lot about how to best support them without making promises I can't keep. Vicky and I will try to make visiting a semi-regular occasion, but with the three-hour round-trip journey and everything else we have going on, it's not something we can commit to doing every week.

A couple of the girls, including one of the girls I was closest with, weren't home when Vicky and I visited, which was frustrating as La Pintana isn't exactly around the block from the city center where I live and work. Last Tuesday, though, after visiting one of VE's partner institutions in Puente Alto, a municipality to the east of La Pintana, I heard someone yelling "Tía Mariah!" from across the street as I was walking to the Metro. I turned and saw the girl I had been so bummed to not see on our visit waving to me. I screamed and made a terrible scene as she crossed the street, an endearing self-conscious smile on her face. As it turns out, she goes to school very close to the home I had been visiting and, on this day, had forty minutes before her first class. We bought a soda and a snack and plopped on a bench, me bombarding her with questions about her new home and school, etc. She was quiet, as she always is, but answered my questions eagerly, smiling the whole time. She seemed happy and calm, is excited that her older sister is having a baby in a couple of months and that she herself is going to start studying nutrition and cooking next year. It eased my mind to hear her news and know that she has settled into her new routine and is getting good grades, etc.

Seeing some of the girls, though, has made me think a lot about the girls who went home to their families and how I have no way of contacting them to see how they're doing. I've heard through various sources that some of the girls are in pretty difficult situations at the moment. Even though I know logically that by continuing my work at VE, I'm contributing to the support of hundreds of kids, it's hard to think that girls that I knew for a long time are here in Santiago but no longer in a place where they can benefit from VE volunteers. I asked the girl I bumped into if there were any activities or volunteers at her new home and she shook her head, saying, "It's not like it was before."

I know that VE can't work with every child in Santiago--this is the nature of service work, there's always more need somewhere. I also know that sometimes it's impossible to separate this type of work from the emotional attachment it creates. I feel lucky to have known the girls at Entre Todas and to have memories of certain days there that still make me laugh out loud. I'm still struggling to find a balance between letting go and figuring out what more I could do for them in a sustainable way. There's no easy answer but I suppose that's just good practice for life in general and the decisions we all have to make at various difficult moments along the way. For now, I can try to find time every month or so to take a ride on the 205 down to La Pintana.

If you're interested in reading more, my co-volunteer, Alex, wrote a beautiful blog about the closing of Entre Todas for VE's website, which you can access here.