• A homecoming in Richmond: Our weekend at Remuda East.

  Nov. 15, 2010 at 12:12pm

  Florida has a way of spoiling us all. We can see Mickey Mouse whenever we want or visit Harry’s Wizarding World, and we can wear cut-off jeans and tank tops for just about 300 days out of the year. Central Florida’s consistently warm season makes it easy to lose track of time, and this isn’t how I grew up. I am a Virginia boy, more specifically from the great city of Richmond. I saw leaves do their best impressions of chameleons and took this annual snow for granted. But when I left Virginia, I was in a bit of a hurry and entrenched in a fog… I was very ready for something new, for something else. In the past 2-and-a-half years, my travels have taken me back through Virginia, but I’ve rarely had the chance to make a destination out of my home state. This past weekend I was able to go back, this time with friends and TWLOHA team members, to celebrate something that perhaps should have felt like an introduction, but truly seemed more like a family reunion.
  
  At TWLOHA, we often describe our efforts as those that battle stigma. We encourage honest conversations about things that don’t get talked about enough. This is a battle that is often overlooked and can feel like a lonely place, and because of this, we have come to really value friendships in the field of mental health. Though we had only exchanged emails for the past two months, this past weekend we were welcomed into an atmosphere of celebration alongside the staff of Remuda Ranch: a collection of dedicated and impassioned souls who work tirelessly to address the needs, both personal and social, of those struggling with eating disorders.
  
  We were introduced to Remuda through mutual friends (namely the guys from A Rotterdam November) and over the course of a few weeks and a couple phone calls, the Ranch invited us to attend their 20th Anniversary Celebration and go on a private tour of their Remuda East facility in Milford, Virginia. We graciously accepted the invitation, and in no time we found ourselves wrapped in coats and packed in a van winding through the Virginia hills en route to the facility. I had to smile at Chris, Jessica, and Kaitlyn as they took picture after picture of the ever-changing, colorful fall landscape. On that country road, reds fade to oranges and give way to yellows and are divided by browns, which all lead to the Ranch where the fields were still green. The beauty of this fall season was disarming and was perfectly complimented by the smiles of the staff as we exited the van to begin our tour. And it occurred to us all that this wasn’t a tour as much as it was a family sharing their home with us. “Tour” feels like a business term, and it was evident that this was a trip reserved for friends. We were honored to be welcomed with that since of familiarity.
  
  This was my first trip to an inpatient treatment facility, and in my mind, I had expected to walk into a whitewashed building with that pastel, lotus-patterned, wall paper that we all hate, but was selected because it seems “peaceful.”  I imagined scuffed marble and scrubs and stethoscopes and IVs. Instead, there was inspired architecture, and beautiful frames housing beautiful artwork. There were apologies that the “Day Room” still had books and jackets on the floor from a few of the younger patients… but beyond that, there was a feeling that everyone is welcome here. You don’t have to pretty up in order to come in, you are beautiful just they way you are; it’s just like that feeling when you arrive home after a tiring day of school or work and you just want to be still. The Ranch strives to feel like home. Except home doesn’t always promise rest (especially for those fighting daily battles with hidden monsters), so while incorporating the familiar, the program also seeks to open brand new doors. One of Remuda’s trademarks is their use of equine therapy, which is an opportunity for horses to play a role in an individual’s recovery. After lunch with the staff, we were invited to experience a sample equine therapy session, and we were incredibly moved by the ability these animals have to aid in the recovery process.
  
  Later that night we found ourselves on the campus of Virginia Commonwealth University with 400 guests for the celebration and a screening of the documentary America the Beautiful, a film that exposes and questions the standards of  “beauty” that are sold to us every day in popular culture. The film later led into a panel discussion which included Darryl Roberts, the writer/producer/director of the film, Kirsten Haglund, Miss America 2008 and philanthropist/advocate for Eating Disorders, and several professionals from Remuda’s clinical team. The questions from the attendees were as intelligent and eloquent as they were honest - a truly inspiring combination.  It was evident that the people in that room were not seeking entertainment, but were eager for opportunities to change and serve the community around them, and this atmosphere continued even after the Q&A time ended. That night, I was able to show off my hometown to coworkers and give hugs to friends and family and share visions with our new friends. But my night was truly marked as special and memorable through the conversations with four brave and bright young women.  Sarah and Rachel traveled 13 hours in hopes of celebrating this night with us, and greeted us with embracing arms covered in magic marker letters that spelled HOPE, LOVE, and REMEMBER THE STARS. Morgan shared her story and passions, and exhibited a contagious attitude of hope; that kind of hope that is stubborn and by its very presence mocks the very ideas of ignorance and intolerance. And then there was Emily. Emily is a fighter and I was so thankful that she came that night. She had such a big heart, a gentle spirit, and a genuine thankfulness that made both Kaitlyn and Jess cry. Working for TWLOHA gives me plenty of opportunity to get lost in the poetry, and it is conversations like these that serve as reminders that hurt and hope can live in the same smile, and tears can hold both fear and relief. 
  
  While my friends and family would like me to live closer to them in Virginia, it’s trips like this that make me thankful for the distance. The distance preserves the special nature and gives homecoming a sort of “pilgrimage” vibe. And as with the conclusion of any pilgrimage, steps feel a little different afterwards…for now, the steps feel a bit lighter. Thank you to all who played a role in this weekend.
  
  Chad

  Posted in General by Chris Youngblood

Comments (3)

---

---