Crane club is a Michigan nonprofit (502) organization that donates paper cranes to local hospitals and care centers.
to forgive!
We attempt to comfort those in unfamiliar environments and strive to lift the spirits of those struggling with illness through volunteer service, instilling in us the joys of humanitarianism and the fulfillment that comes from helping others. The lessons of constant practice, giving back to the community, and helping those in need are indispensable to later opportunities in life.
to forget!
The University of Michigan chapter meets every Thursday in the Michigan Union's Creation Studio from 4-7 PM.
to saved!
When I was 17, I spent some time in a children's inpatient psychiatric ward in a university hospital. I remember the first night, being admitted at 2 am after waiting in the lobby for 12 hours, stripped of my belongings and bare of my clothes, staring at the ceiling of my bed wondering what was going to happen to me, and what my life had come to. I was utterly beside myself that this was going to be part of my story forever. The next day, there was a cardboard box on my desk filled with various toys and activities. Peeking out from the corner was a paper box. When I opened it, I was greeted with an origami crane, folded by a volunteer. Those blue walls and oak floors that enveloped me are now my safe space; characterized as a well oiled machine designed to keep me as happy as possible. Nurses would check in every morning and night, therapy sessions twice a day, wellness activities, and bedtime at 10 pm to Adult Swim reruns. It saved my life. It gave me space to exist, in a world where the woes of the outside world couldn’t interfere. I had no expectations, no pressures, nobody to work for except myself. I was free to exist.
During my college freshman year winter semester, I felt lost beyond repair. After the death of my great uncle, I started to experience what most adults would describe as a “quarter-life crisis”. I hadn’t expected to make it to college, and the feeling that I was doing nothing with my life slowly started to make its way to the forefront of every thought that I had. To remedy this feeling, I started a club at my college to donate paper cranes to hospitals, to turn the trauma I endured into social impact. However, I had no idea “why” I was doing it. By the time summer came, I lost attachment to everything that I thought made me “me”. I was struck with the realization that I knew nothing about anything. So, I did what anyone would do. I booked a flight for the weekend to visit my great-aunt and talk to her about my great-uncle.
I called him “Flute-Tata” because one day, when I was 3 years old, I saw him playing the flute. The name stuck, and soon the whole family called him Flute-Tata. When I arrived, I asked my great aunt to share all the stories I didn’t know. Eventually, she brought up that he was the president of the Lion’s Club in his city, a volunteer organization dedicated to improving communities. She smiled and said it was nothing compared to the rest of his work. The more I heard the more I was in awe of what he had achieved. Building an ophthalmology hospital and giving free cataract surgeries, providing free public sanitation for a slum, instituting a state-wide policy for free lunches for all school children; the stories just kept coming. She showed me the tremendous impact that a single person could have on their community.
I felt conflicted. When I needed him the most, the one person I could talk to was gone. However, I felt an enormous privilege that I could call him family. His work wasn’t just about solving problems, it was about restoring faith in humanity and showing others that someone cared enough to make a difference; just like the volunteer who folded me my paper crane. I knew that I had to live up to his legacy and that his spirit was what I needed to find my place in this world. I started pouring all of my time into Crane Club, expanding the organization, trying to find a piece of him within my work. Slowly but surely, through bigger and bigger accomplishments for my community, I felt like I had a purpose again, and the patient inside of me began to truly heal.
The origami crane I received in the hospital was a symbol of hope and healing during one of the darkest times of my life. It gave me strength, much like what Flute-Tata brought to countless others through his incredible acts of service.
