My induction to white party planning took place on my first day in the office. Before a proper introduction, I was led on an exhausting and seemingly mile long walk to Adam’s cousin’s apartment to pick up posters (apparently a synonym for billboard-like photo prints) to be sold at the white party. Accompanied by three other high school interns, I braved the 109-degree heat in pursuit of Nick Onken’s stellar photographs. Throughout our return trip the interns and I subtly attempted to display the prints in ways that would elicit the same compassion in every passer-by on the busy Manhattan sidewalk as we felt towards Nuth, a beaming Laotian child pictured in a green dress on an oversized print that kept slipping from my grasp. With sore feet we returned to the PoP office reaping the rewards of a modern day miracle, more commonly known as the air-con. From then on, as white party preparation ensued, the memory of carrying Nuth through the heat would be my guiding inspiration.

The following weeks passed quickly and in a glimpse the interns and I stood at the door of the Hudson terrace in our carefully planned, white ensembles with PoP’s branding on our t-shirts, ready to work the night away at our long awaited event. We all had specific stations to man, but our most important role would be acting as representatives in the village rally. To my dismay, this involved walking up to strangers and reciting facts about a certain village to persuade them to pledge money in support of PoP.

I normally find myself to be afraid of public speaking and unable to remember anything of importance during such occasions. I distinctly recall picking up my clipboard from the stage after Adam spoke, and feeling a sense of dread creep over me as I observed the dense sea of compact groups of guests that spanned every inch of our venue. How would I approach these strangers? Stepping down from the stage, I gingerly walked towards a group of 4 guests and began reciting the facts that I had memorized. No one heard me. They didn’t even turn around. Embarrassed and frustrated, I tapped one of the guests on the shoulder forcing him to acknowledge me. I began to share every reason I could think of for this man to contribute to PoP. Most had little to do with my assigned village, but much more to do with PoP’s mission. I told him to the great extent his money would be utilized. How it could pay a teacher’s salary, implement the SHINE program, or provide school supplies and how much I am, myself, a big believer in the efforts of PoP. Only when I finished my rant did I allow him to get a word in edgewise. When I did, he told me, “I’m Adam’s best friend, I have been involved with PoP since it was founded!”  Oops. I apologized, thanked him for his involvement, and walked away with a funny story for my efforts.

From then on I projected the same passion and commitment I feel towards PoP to every guest I came across. Some of my attempts, even if only a few, were successful, and in these cases I beamed with pride as I watched my clipboard be passed around eager guests pledging their support. Every dollar I raised will make a world of difference through PoP, and I’m so glad I became a part of it – Nuth, the little girl in the poster I picked up on my very first day, will have a better education!

-Angelica Jarvenpaa, PoP High School Intern

ANGELICA AND THE TEAM OF 10 HIGH SCHOOL INTERNS RAISED OVER $8,000 THROUGH THEIR “VILLAGE RALLY” IN LESS THAN ONE HOUR. WE COULDN’T BE MORE PROUD OF THEM!