I have until now not been able to post here, because of a feeling of deep loss and sadness. However, I had the privilege of meeting Jacinto's Denver community this past Sunday evening, when I made the trek to Denver to pick up some belongings. I experienced great joy and deep grief in meeting his Denver community. As I felt their joy in his life, and their great grief in his too soon passing. It was not uncommon for each individual to share a story with tears rolling down their face. I was so blown away by the respect, love and admiration everyone had for Jacinto. As his mom I see one side of him. His Chain community opened up a whole new perspective of him. The comments of his close friends there were consistent. They commented how much they loved him. How fun he was. How funny he was. How brilliant he was. How kind and caring he was. He would engage in random acts of kindness. For example his friend Derek was out of town, and Jacinto shoveled snow out of the driveway for his wife Theann, without telling anyone. He also built a beautiful green house for Derek and Theann. How he was so athletic leading Derek's team to a soccer championship.  The comments were heartfelt. "He was a special person" "He brought people together" "He loved a good debate about social justice." "He loved comedy night, and probably only missed one night." "Everyone felt he truly cared about how they were really doing or feeling." "He could read your feelings really well." And Tommy's comment, "He was a really special person, the world was a better place because of him." And of course the twinkle in his eye when he was about to do something goofy or silly. To the chain community, thank you for accepting him, loving him, as I and Rachel loved him. And thank you Brian for not permanently banning him from Chain for the bouncy ball incident. I loved meeting you all Brian, Chad, Theann, Derek, Cole, Kevin, Lawrence, Joshua, and Jamie. I loved Skylar's beautiful comments about him. Johnny, his soul mate in social causes. Who was willing to set up a charity boxing match with Lawrence to help children in El Salvador. In addition, preparing food and toiletries for the homeless. We should all be so lucky to have a loving community surrounding us. Skywalker thank you for the beer, delish. Steve, I am sorry I didn't have a chance to speak to you about Jacinto's joke you planned to incorporate into your stand up comedy appearance. Luv you all much, because you so openly loved him. Stan maybe next time I am there you can get your outfit together, so you can join us.

Jacinto in Jalama! 

Jacinto, while navigating the ever-changing social and hormonal atmosphere of 6th grade, was authentically cool.   He especially seemed to be in his element when we camped. The combination of practical problem-solving and just appreciating the great outdoors made him a positive force on our trips.  Where the cold and damp added to the discomfort of some, Jacinto found the beauty and the opportunity to create something.

He was genuinely inspired by the opportunity to create, enabling him to jump into any group of kids and contribute to their projects. 

Although he was often a quiet observer, he was a leader during our “Four Settlements” simulation at Jalama.  This simulation was aimed at exploring community dynamics and the need for a constitution. Jacinto's voice carried gravitas because of his emotional confrontation of the injustice in any situation and this simulation prodded that awareness. Students were into the excitement of capturing other team members and their supplies. Jacinto’s running speed came in handy as one team would seize another’s supply of water as the other captured their tarp. He soon recognize the futility and chaos in trying to build the simulation’s structures and accumulate the requisite supplies, just to lose them again. Thinking practically, he noticed that no one was going to be successful.  “This is frustrating for all of us!” Ultimately, recognition of the need for pacts and agreements dawned on other students with the help of Jacinto. He not only reasoned for the good of himself, but also the larger good. That dedication to the good of all seemed to inspire his choices as he grew older.

My Last Camping Trip

By Steve Skrovan

I found out I was going on the second junior high trip to Mexico two days before

departure. Shelley was supposed to go but had to attend to a family emergency in New

Jersey (everything turned out all right). I have to say, that’s the way to do it. Shelley had

made all of the preparations, had gone to the meetings, had done all of the hard planning

and packing, and I just slipped into the driver’s seat with little opportunity to fret about

all the time I would miss away from my beloved computer screen. In our eleven years in

the Sequoyah community, first with Sam then with Julia, I had been biking in

Silverwood, rock climbing in Joshua Tree, horseback riding in Canyon de Chelle in

Arizona, and kayaking in Santa Cruz, all activities I never would have undertaken of my

own accord.

I knew I’d be doing a lot of driving and supervising a cook crew, but my most important

mission was not to embarrass my daughter in front of her friends by being… well, just by

being. Sometimes, that’s all it takes.

After two days of barreling down a thin ribbon of Baja highway where shoulders were

non-existent and guardrails were inconsistent, we pulled safely into Bahia De Los

Angeles, a tiny village on the Sea of Cortez. I drove the supply van with Mel Mamberg,

Kellen’s mom, where we found out that we’re both from Cleveland born six days apart

(I’m the older one) and Amos Dyson, Jacinto’s dad, who very patiently interpreted all the

road signs for me. Apparently, they speak Spanish in Mexico. Bahia is essentially

untouched by heavy industry or even people for that matter. Our host for the week,

Antonio, explained that there were probably no more than 3000 people living between

Rosarito and Bahia. As a result, the Sea of Cortez remains crisp and clear with

uninhabited volcanic islands jutting out here and there. Antonio predicted, however, that

soon all of that would change. There were plans afoot to turn Bahia into another Cabo.

They just needed to find a way to get water down there, because unlike the tropical

climate of Cabo, Bahia is desert.

Antonio was one of the town elders if not its de facto mayor. He and his wife settled in

Bahia to research loggerhead turtles. One evening he showed us slides of his work with

the turtles. He had studied their migration habits. It turns out that these particular turtles

feed in the Sea of Cortez, and then traverse the length of the Pacific Ocean to breed off

the shores of Japan. This was confirmed when one of the turtles that Antonio had tagged

in Mexico wound up months later caught in the nets of a Japanese fishing trawler.

Ben, Michelle Milner, Mel and the kids stayed in three open stone shelters with thatched

roofs, called “palopas.” Amos and I generously volunteered to sleep in the small cottage

where the crates of food were stored. Someone had to protect the food, you know, just in

case some monstrous sea creature crawled ashore with a hankering for a Cliff Bar.

I enjoyed observing as each cook crew took on a meal. By the time Sequoyah kids get to

the junior high, they’ve done this kind of thing so often it doesn’t take long for the crews

to coalesce into tight units. My main duty was to stay out of the way and make sure I

didn’t absently sit on a hot stove; and my most important contribution was to have the

crew give themselves nicknames. Claire was the captain of my crew. She gave herself the

nickname “Queasy” as in “Queasy Claire.” We also had Lucky Lucas (Kerpel),

Magnificent Maddie, who also sometimes went by the moniker “Mad Dog,” and Noah

Stern, who Ben quickly dubbed “Cream Cheese” because on the first day he became very

concerned we wouldn’t have enough cream cheese for the entire trip (He was eventually

proven correct). His name was later modified to “Commander Cream Cheese.” Out of

respect.

We made two trips to two different islands ferried in three fishing boats commanded by

local fishermen. The students caught a lot of fish which were then gutted, filleted and

eventually served to us in town at the community center accompanied by beans, rice and

salad served by the fishermen’s wives. We also snorkeled and hiked, exploring the birds

and wildlife in the area. This turned out to be one of the most academic trips that I had

ever been on, because a couple of professors from Cal Poly Pomona who Antonio

regularly hosts presented us with lectures. One professor conducted a slide show

describing his work studying tectonic plates and continental drift. It was a fascinating

college level lecture that the kids remained attentive to for the entire hour. On another

evening, the other professor did more of an informal Q and A about his study of the

osprey, the large bird that occupies the islands in the Sea.

Michelle made frequent trips into the village helping the kids navigate interactions with

the villagers as they conducted their various field studies. Jack had the unenviable task of

putting together a scavenger hunt in the village, which was an exercise for the junior

highers to decipher the clues in Spanish and ask for help from the very friendly and

accommodating locals.

After five days, we bid adios to Antonio and the hospitality of Bahia to head back up the

Peninsula to Canyon De Guadalupe. We camped overnight near Ensenada at a

picturesque spot on the Pacific only a few yards from the where vigorous ocean waves

bashed against a cliff. Not surprisingly, the water was much noisier and the air a bit

cooler on that side of Baja. At campfire, Mel read aloud a funny pirate story from a book

that she had started in Bahia. I was pleased to see that you could still read to kids thirteen

and fourteen years old, the beginning of what I call the “Age of Sarcasm,” and they’d still

pay attention. Every night, they clamored for Mel to read another chapter.

On our way north, we stopped in Tecate. Everyone was to pick an adult and head into the

town for lunch. Naturally, the boys latched onto Amos and the girls latched onto

Michelle, the only two fluent Spanish speakers in the group. Smart kids. Jack Purvis, on

the other hand, came over and stood next to me. I looked at him and said, “Really?” He

said, “Let’s go.” I must have looked lonely and pathetic, and he must have felt sorry for

me; but I was most impressed with the fact that at a time in your life when peer pressure

guides everything you do, he didn’t feel the need to go with the crowd. Having said that, I

do believe we “two amigos” ended up getting ripped off at the taqueria. Are you

supposed to tip thirty percent?

Michelle and the girls were late getting back to the vans. Apparently, while they were

having lunch a young local boy sent a love note and a paper flower to Sula, overwhelmed

by her beauty. The budding romance unfortunately could progress no further because we

had to get to Canyon de Guadalupe before nightfall.

To get to Canyon de Guadalupe, we had to cross miles and miles of a dry lakebed. Unlike

the main highway in Baja, this was all shoulder, no road. We just followed the tracks of

other vehicles. In the middle of the lakebed, one of the vans ran aground in a patch of soft

sand. Over the course of the next two hours in the heat of the afternoon everyone pitched

in with both ideas and hard labor, but all our attempts to pull the van out just sunk it

deeper. Someone spotted a small shack on the horizon, so Ben dispatched Amos, Dylan

(The mature Dylan was like the fifth adult on the trip) and a few others to investigate.

They were met by a sun-weathered man and his dog coming toward them. His name, as I

recall, was also Antonio. He devised a plan using our jack and pieces of wood the kids

had gathered. Bingo! Out came the van. First try! By the time we reached the camping

spot, it was dark, and everyone was tired and hungry. Queasy Claire and her crew

provided a much-appreciated high carbohydrate spaghetti dinner. Whenever I’ve been on

a Sequoyah camping trip, inevitably some problem like this crops up. In a way, these are

the most important and instructive events of the trip. They involve real life problem

solving, managing anxiety, teamwork, improvisation, resilience and all those intangible

life lessons that cannot be taught in a classroom. They also make the best stories.

We spent the next three days in Canyon de Guadalupe enjoying the hot springs and

hiking over, under and around huge boulders to the waterfalls. On one hike, we spotted a

couple of mountain goats high up on a craggy peak. In lieu of a campfire, evening

sessions were held in the hot springs. The kids all slept in one large polapa protected

from a fierce wind that would rage through the canyon at night. Not enough room for the

adults, though. Mel spent one valiant night inside one of the tents trying to weigh it down

lest it take flight like Dorothy’s house in the “Wizard of Oz.” From my vantage point

outside, it looked more like Linda Blair trying to heave out the devil in “The Exorcist.”

I felt very lucky to have had the opportunity to take this last Sequoyah camping trip. I got

to know better many of the seventh graders I had never met before, like Dorry and Anna

and Devin and Eric. And Julia seemed not be too embarrassed by my constant presence. I

do have one snapshot memory of the trip that I know will stick with me. Our last night in

Bahia, we invaded a park with a concrete basketball court and an enclosed soccer field. A

small group of local boys were playing at one end. Ben led a group that included Eric,

Alex, Noah, Dylan, Claire, and Kellen against the local boys who looked to be high

school age. Michelle led another group over to the soccer “court.” In the midst of a wild

seven on seven game under the lights between the Sequoyah group and the Bahia boys,

Noah, one of the smallest kids in the game got knocked down inadvertently during a

sudden change of possession. Noah’s butt barely touched the ground before Alex, one of

the biggest kids on the court, reflexively swooped in, lifted him up, and set him back on

his feet as everyone rushed back down the court. That move was cheered just as loudly as

any basket.

Many of us come to Sequoyah as young parents looking for an educational experience for

our children different from the ones we had. But most of all, we’re looking for a

community. It’s hard for me to articulate exactly what the essential nature of that

community is. But I know it has something to do with the way Alex picked up Noah and