The Irish International Immigrant Center

During the last two weeks, I have been working at the IIIC (Irish International Immigrant Center), in Boston. They help immigrants from over 120 countries to become citizens of the United States. Our family friend, Ronnie Millar, is the Executive Director there, and he very kindly allowed me to intern with him for the two weeks that I was on school vacation. During my time there, I did a variety of things, including, helping out in some of the classes, delivering and picking up packages (some containing tasty sandwiches), and organizing a great variety of cords. I also had to dress nicely, and get up early, neither of which was a problem for me.

Due to snow days, and other time constraints, I only had the opportunity to attend and assist in two classes, the first was an English class and the second was class to help immigrants learn some technology basics. During the English class I sat next to a man from Mexico, who used to be a teacher before he moved here, now, I’m pretty sure, he is a builder. The class was from 9:30am to 12:00pm. Because we had so much time on our hands, we were able to cover a lot of different content. We read an article about the largest pizza, talked about the pronunciations of the colors, how limericks work, and a few other things I do not remember. During the technology class (Tech Goes Home, or TGH), I helped teach different people who came to the class, how to get set up with an email account, how to open Gmail, and various other basics of computers. I really felt good about helping with the classes, because, compared to the other things I did, this time I was directly helping people, instead of helping the people who help the people (which I realize is important, but just not as exciting)

During my first week, I was sent to deliver two packages, one to Boston City Hall, and the other, to a  winner of some sort of prize. I do admit I was extremely nervous about not being able to find the right place or delivering it to the wrong place. I only had a person’s name and an address. I wandered around the eighth floor of City Hall until I found a reception area in the correct department. I was almost skipping once I was leaving, but I kept it in, I was extremely glad that I had delivered the letter to the correct space. There I dropped off a letter to the people there. I then went back near the IIIC, and used Ronnie’s business credit card, that he had given me to pay for the taxi to the other side of Boston (Seaport District). I was less nervous about my first taxi ride alone, because I am used to commuting alone, and this did not feel very different. When I arrived at the building I went to security and tried to figure out where I was going. They took my name, and I felt a moment of panic when they asked if I had a photo ID, to make sure I was who I said I was. Of course, because I am fourteen, I had no identification of any sort. I told them so, and they gave me a sticker with my name on it. I told them the person I was dropping off my package to, and they took me to the elevator and told me the floor to go to. I told the receptionist who I was dropping off the package for and then gave it to her. I went out and grabbed another taxi back to the IIIC. It was easier than I expected to take a taxi back because

The project that was most demanding however, was organizing all of the cords that they had managed to get into the most disorganized jumble of disorganization I have ever seen. They had an ungodly amount of ethernet cables, due to the rise of wireless wifi networks, as well as an extreme amount of power cables for all of the laptops they use for the students. I used the technique I usually do for organizing our cords, which is coil them and then use a rubber band to keep them like that. I then had to painstakingly sort every single one. Ronnie then suggested that I go to staples and find the correct storage bins for all of the cords. I ended up getting a variety of modular stacking drawers that I put in the closet where the old bins used to be. This may sound simple but it took me several days to complete it. Hopefully, this will help the people of the IIIC help immigrants in need.

I also was able to eat sushi almost every day and got to commute with my dad a few times, because his office is right down the street. During my first week, I got lost almost every day either on my way there, on on my way back home, either taking the T the wrong way, many stops too far before I realized, just getting lost trying to find my way to the T stop, or finding my way to the IIIC. In conclusion, I had a very good experience working at the IIIC. I felt like I made a difference, if only for two weeks, for the people working there, as well as the students.