I’ve been a Big Sister for five years now, and for a while, I was an agency speaker for them (helping them raise money). Here’s the bulk of my speech, and all of it is true.
I’ve been a Big for about two and half years now. My Little and I were matched on Valentine’s Day in 2001. I really think that date might have lent our match a little extra charm, because it’s been terrific so far. My Little’s name is Mañana. On the night we met, we went to the Old Chicago pizza place in Uptown and got to know each other. We covered all the important things, like who had what pets, which toppings are acceptable on a pizza, which stations should be programmed into my radio, and at what age, precisely, I would be willing to let Mañana drive my car (we’re not there yet). We also talked about our families, what school is like and what we hope for each of our future careers. It was a big night. My palms were sweaty. My voice shook. I smiled goofily much of the time.
The fact was, it was a blast. After we were done with our pie, we went across the street and got enormous hot chocolates and raced to see who could finish theirs first. I am proud to say that I won. It was soon time to go home. As we were walking back to the car, daring each other to make hideous faces or say something silly to passers-by, I slipped on a patch of ice and went down like a ton of bricks. Mañana gasped, “WENDY! Are you OK?!” and I will never forget how thrilled I was (through the haze of pain) that she remembered my name so easily! As I hobbled my way along, Mañana called me Wonder Woman and flexed her muscles and pointed at me for whoever would look.
One thing that consistently amazes me is how wonderful she is, despite some truly tough situations. She’s been raised since she was a baby by her single grandmother, and her family is scattered through many states. Her father is in prison, and she writes to him occasionally despite never having met him. Her mother has been in and out of jail all of her life. Manana has switched schools 4 times since I’ve known her, sometimes voluntarily, sometimes not. Her house caught fire last winter, forcing them to live elsewhere for 8 months while the damaged rooms were rebuilt.
I often get the comment that she is lucky to have me, but the truth is that I am lucky to have her. Over our time together, Mañana has been a joy to be around. She calls and leaves messages for my cats on the answering machine when I am out of town, so the cats won’t feel lonely. She bakes cakes for me and makes sure the frosting has sprinkles. She says thanks, she gives me hugs, she lets me create experimental, bizarre hairdos on her.
As with any relationship, we’ve developed little rituals that belong just to us. She regularly locks me out of my car, to see if I can manage to grab the handle during the split second she’ll unlock it for. Any and all “does to, does not” arguments are closed by the person who calls “infinity squared” first. I get all her pizza crusts. I know to open her soda cans by about a millimeter, so she can savor it in tiny sips for hours. And we say “I love you” at the end of every get-together.
She and I have covered the Twin Cities from edge to edge in our adventures together. This is almost entirely dependent on her sense of direction, because I chronically get lost and wind up miles from where I think I’m going. We’ve decorated trees for wildlife around the holidays, gone to concerts, watched movies and eaten out.
Every week, I get an email newsletter from BBBS, detailing all the cool events, discounts and activities available that week. BBBS hosts things like picnics, roller and ice skating events, swimming and bowling. They also make tickets to sporting events and plays available for Bigs and Littles. All the things that Mañana and I take advantage of are a small part of the larger BBBS operation, which serves the 11-county metro area. 76% of the funds you donate go directly to the programming that Mañana and I, and the other matches, enjoy.
BBBS currently has 1810 matches in the four different programs it offers. Of the kids in these matches, 70% of them receive free or reduced-price school lunches. There are 200 kids ready for a Big right now, and another 300 waiting in process. Girls typically wait about 6 months to be matched, while boys wait anywhere from 6 months to 30 months to be matched with a Big Brother.
The community-based program that Manana and I are in is only one of four programs that BBBS provides. Volunteers can also participate as a Big Couple, where two adults are paired with one child. The school-based program brings Bigs to meet their Littles at the Little’s school once a week, with a focus on academic work as well as fun. And finally, Club Connect is entirely event-based, for Littles who have not yet been matched with a Big. When you volunteer for Club Connect, you’re able to go to a basketball game, and ice-cream social or another fun, single activity with a kid. It’s perfect for people who’d like to support BBBS, but aren’t able to commit more time right now.
I met Mañana when she was 11 and in the sixth grade. She began her sophomore year in high school this year. If you remember what middle school was like, or have kids who’ve gone through it, you know that those are pretty turbulent years, when kids are really working to establish their own identities. And I would bet that, thinking back, each of you could name at least one adult who made a difference when you were a kid. An adult who you counted as a friend, and relied on when things got tough. It could be a teacher, a friend’s parent, your coach… it was someone you could trust. No matter how good things are, everyone can use another friend. BBBS allows you to be that friend to a kid who needs one.
Good kid and a great experience–you won’t regret it. I was his BB for 2 years until I moved to DC.