Boys and Girls club finale

So here's an entry I wrote on thursday but was prevented from accessing the internet due to the glories of technology. I think I was feeling a little grumbly at the time, so color me blue. Currently things are cool, we found out for about the fifth time when we are leaving for our next project, and for the fifth time we are leaving on a different day. We leave friday for camp Mendocino, so we can spend a glorious weekend in the woods not getting into trouble, or something like that.
On an unrelated note, with the arrival of my giant "ethical hacking" anthologies my interest in tech has gone back up, so I have things to occupy all of my durn free time. What better place to learn to hack than on a government computer?
Kidding, kidding.
Here's the thing I wrote a couple days ago (mood dims):
Tomorrow is our last day at the boys and girls club, and I am sorry to go. Not just because I loved eating grilled cheese for lunch everyday and having such awesome facilities, but because I will miss the kids, and feeling like, for once in AmeriCorps, I was actually making a direct impact on someones life (besides making their job easier).
Thus far, it often feels like we've essentially just been free labor for nonprofits that can't afford the real deal. Catalina, for instance. It's damn expensive to hire 11 people to do odd jobs and weed fennel 8 hours a day, and Corpsians will do it for a wee piece of land to lay down on and a smile. We definitely did some of that at the boys and girls club, but instead of helping a island that is falling out of favor with tourists regain some of its composure, we tripled the number of floating staff at the club. These kids need attention.
I'll be the first to say I've grown up with almost every advantage possible. Two attentive parents, four involved grandparents for all of my developmental years, a supportive extended family, and born into one of the most influential demographics on the map. 90% of the children at the boys and girls club lack at least one parent in their lives, and many miss both, with a father virtually nonexistant and a mother in jail. They are raised by their grandparents, other relatives, or the foster system.
Did you know that in the foster system it is possible to apply to get you child transferred out of your home? If a family adopts you as an infant, and decides when you hit early adolescence that you've become to much to handle, only a few signatures stand between you and a new home. There are a number of these "lost children" at the boys and girls club, kids who lived with a family, as a part of a family, for eight or so years, only to be booted back into the faster care system when they needed consistent adult role models most. People decided to trade them back in for a younger model, one that they can control again.
It might show, but today was our final debrief with our project sponsor. He shared some of the kids' backstories, what goes on in their lives. He told us a few success stories, of kids who got on track and pulled themselves out. He told us of the ones who don't pay attention, riding along in the foster care system untill they hit 18 and get shocked when the government ceases to help them.
Some of these kid have it rough, the hooligans that we played dodgeball and uno with, did math and writing with. I always tried to be attentive, admiring, and kind. But now I wonder how I couldn't have done so much more. The system, like all systems, is broken or has never worked in some areas.