Ashton: Soaring Like an Eagle
For fifteen year old Ashton, school seemed hopeless. Diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) and depression, he had attended numerous high schools in Minneapolis and continued to be left out, taunted, and ridiculed by other students. Ashton responded by becoming angry and disruptive.
To make things worse, Ashton couldn’t concentrate and was failing all of his courses. He was distressed and felt like a failure. Ashton found hope and new beginnings when he enrolled in Volunteers of America Service Adventure Leadership Team High School (SALT) in Minneapolis.
SALT features an experiential and environmental themed program that focuses on leadership development and community-based service learning. Field studies, labs, and experiential/service learning trips are incorporated into all classes. The hands-on, experiential learning combined with the outdoor and environmental activities were just what Aston needed. He began to shine.
“I got the one-on-one help I needed, especially with Math,” Ashton reports. “I felt like a better person once I was succeeding. I could really talk to the teachers and I got to know them as people. By developing leadership skills, I was able to interact with other students more easily and I felt more accepted.”
In addition to educating Ashton, SALT provided him with mentors and inspiration. In fact, Ashton became such an excellent student that he became the first recipient of the school’s “Soaring Eagle” award. The award recognizes exceptional students who have excelled in leadership development and earned the most credit for experiential/service learning trips.
Today, Ashton is 18 years old, has graduated from our SALT high school, and is preparing to attend Northland College in Ashland, Wisconsin where he plans to major in Outdoor Education and minor in Biology. Ashton notes, “Someday I’d even like to be a teacher for SALT.”
Walking with Buck
By Ashton
As I walked through the woods on my way back to camp I saw a deer. I decided to follow the deer through the woods instead of along the path. As I walked into the woods I was mostly paying close attention to the deer in front of me, but all of a sudden I heard a twig break to my left. Slowly I turned to see what it was, knowing that if I made any sudden movements the deer in front of me would bolt away never to be seen again. To my left was a mother and its fawn. I snapped a few pictures with my camera; as the shutter clicked, the deer turned my way. I then got very intrigued as they all came together and the deer I originally followed, the male, came over and gave the fawn a lick.
As they walked through the heavy brush eating grass, I did as well, though I left the grass eating up to the professionals. I tried hard not to be seen, or heard for that matter. When they turned around I stopped moving, hoping they wouldn’t see me. It was as if they were looking through me, trying to see my intentions. Though my intentions were good, they were still wary of me. They paid close attention to me, as did I to them.
I went ahead of them trying to get a spot that hopefully they would walk through. I found a spot on a wet moss-covered log about 20 feet ahead, luckily, they came my way. I sat there for almost five minutes before they came by, my pants getting soaked from the moss beneath me. As I sat there thinking about how close they might come to me if I were a tree, I came to wonder if it were better to just leave them be and continue on my journey towards camp. As they came near, I shifted my weight trying to get a good balance on the log so that I didn’t fall off. As they came by, I stepped on a twig. The fawn galloped a few times then stopped and turned around. I think it was scared to become separated from its parents. I decided to go on my way, walking towards the campsite, I felt a burn in my legs from walking over large stumps and fallen trees trying to find my way. I felt lost. I closed my eyes to try and figure out which direction I had come from. I turned to my right and saw the path. I was walking directly beside the path the whole time, though inside the woods a little. I smelled the air as I was walking back to camp and it smelled as if someone had poured syrup on a big plate of pancakes.
My time with the deer was very surreal, almost ethereal. It made my heart beat faster as I went deeper into the woods, away from the trail. I knew not whether I would find the trail again though the experience gave me an inner peace, as if the world was welcoming me into its home.