A long weekend

I will admit that I have been a bit negligent in keeping this blog updated.  It’s not from a lack of desire.  I’ve been busy…or tired. As of this posting, there are 103 days before graduation. 

This weekend, I took a trip back to Chicago.  It’s been an emotional trip.  I had a friend get engaged and another get married.  I signed the papers to put my condo on the market after deciding that the next stage in my life may not include Chicago.  I went to an ICU to see a friend’s mom who has suddenly fallen ill. I helped to make preparations for my brother to move back in with my mom. I saw my sister, her husband, and the kids.  I ate Girl Scout cookies. I slept when I could, and now I’m at the airport waiting for a flight that is currently delayed two hours.  

I began my final semester a couple of weeks ago.  So far, so good. My perspective is much different than when I first arrived.  Course registration and bidding went without a hitch. Since I fulfilled my graduation requirements last semester, I was free to choose pretty much whichever courses I wanted to take.  I think I made some good selections and left a bit of flexibility in my schedule to enjoy a few of the intangibles that come with being a student at the Kennedy School.

My journey this past 200 days has been less about academics and more who I am and who I want to be. I’m not flunking out, but then again, I’m not dazzling anyone with my academic prowess.  On the flight from Boston to Chicago earlier this week, I was seated to next to a woman with whom I struck up a conversation.  She’s a professor at one of the arts colleges in the Boston area.  She teaches theater and human rights. It was through my 3 hour conversation with her that I realized that my dream is viable and that I may need to think outside the box to make some things happen and that the things that happen may not happen the way I planned.  I have her card and I plan to hang out with her several times before graduation.  We’re kindred spirits; feisty women of color who want to make life better for our contemporaries and those that come after us.  She’s doing it through the arts, and I want to do it through business.

The fact that life is going on at full speed while I am trapped in the Harvard “bubble” has caused me to be a bit more introspective and reflective than I might normally be. I realize what I’m missing, but at the same time I appreciate everything that I’m gaining. Pressing the reset button on my life has been more difficult, complicated, emotional, heartbreaking, exciting and exhilarating than I could have ever imagined.

I’m still quite stressed about finding my next work opportunity.  My hairstylist (and others) has said that I will find a job and not to worry.  My response to her: Every whore on the corner can find work.  I need to find the right work!  

Beginning, Middle and End

Today begins my last semester here at Harvard. It feels like and ending, a middle and a beginning all at the same time.

My first semester here was a struggle.  There were many times that I felt inadequate because I felt a disconnect between what I thought I needed to learn and what was being taught.  I am an execution/operations person by nature.  It is in that arena that I perform my best work.  I am the player that when given the ball, rushes it into the end zone.  I am not the quarterback.  The courses here focus on grooming quarterbacks.   I never have been and I never will be a quarterback, so the struggle will continue for one more semester.

My plan for the Spring 2013  is to celebrate my differences from a typical Kennedy School student and to make this last semester work for me. So far, I've done four things to help make this happen:  

First of all, I went to Florida last week to decompress and to catch up with my best friend and mentor.  She knows me very well and was able to give me some critical suggestions about how I should structure my last semester to connect the dots of my past employment with where I want my future to go.

Secondly, I heeded her advice.  I, for one, hate when someone asks me for advice and then do the completely opposite thing.  It makes me want to shake them and then slap them upside the head. You trust me enough to ask for advice, but not quite enough to follow through with it? Uh, OK.  I’ll remember that for next time.

Thirdly, I’ve become resolute in taking what I need from each class and leaving the rest. It’s all the extra stuff that causes the stress.  It took me the entire first semester to find my space and discover how I want to operate within that space.  I only get this one shot to see if my plans and aspirations for the semester come to pass.  (I think that they will, but check back on May 31^st to see if I was right!)

Last, but not least, I’m going to make some personal changes that I think will help me get through the semester.  The most obvious will be my going on the wagon. I think that if I want to have a remote chance of staying healthy I need to steer clear of the margaritas and the white wine. (La Crema’s Chardonnay will now always have a special place in my heart.)  But I warn you right now, that if you see me in Chicago or Cambridge with an adult beverage in hand, you are *not* authorized to slap it out of my hand.  Your attempt to do so will get to you a Chicago-style beat down.  If I’m drinking this semester, it is because I NEED to be drinking. The best thing for you to do will be to slowly walk away and return with a second drink.

You have been warned. :)

The Harvard Bubble

Here at Harvard we live in what we like to call The Harvard Bubble.  It’s hard to describe unless you’ve experienced it.  In plain English, it’s the surreal experience of the place.

It’s better than work because you get along with almost everyone and you don’t have to answer to management or shareholders.

It’s better than normal school because there are some really truly brilliant people here and we’re all actually very interested in our courses. (Ahem! The ones we like and the ones that we are smart enough to drop if we don’t!)

It’s better than your normal group of friends because we see each other almost every day and almost everyone has time to grab coffee or an adult beverage and shoot the breeze. We throw out ideas about how we want to change the world and no one says it’s impossible. We offer each other solutions on how to make it happen.

So while I enjoyed my time at home in Chicago during winter break, I missed school.  I missed it a lot.  Then it dawned on me that the magic of my year at Harvard is more than half over.  And that makes me sad.  I tried to temper that sadness by planning a trip to Maui immediately after graduation.  But real life is creeping back in…

I’m updating my resume because I need to find a job.  I was smart enough to get into Harvard, but not smart enough to get someone else to pay it.  The Department of Education wants to be REPAID.

I am in the process of making some hard decisions about where I want to work and what to do with my condo in Chicago. The next job that I choose will set the trajectory of my new career. Supposedly, the world is my oyster but I still have some anxiety about life after graduation.  I try not to, but I am about to enter into uncharted waters.

Also, I now have this monkey on my back called the Harvard Brand ®.  People automatically have expectations when they find that I’m here and am on track to graduate.  I don’t know about my classmates, but I find it a bit stressful. I’ve lived my life prejudged because of my gender and my race.  I already know that my current educational choice will make life more complex, even if it’s in a good way.

This semester I can max out and take 4.5 courses.  But I’ve decided not to do it. I took (and passed!) 5 classes last semester but I don’t recommend that option for anyone. It was structured insanity.  I was at home for almost 2 weeks before my brain was able to wind down enough that I didn’t feel compelled to stay up until 2AM reading a book! I love The Harvard Bubble, but to ignore the fact that my journey is winding down would be to my detriment. 

Real life is about to knock on my door and I need to be prepared to answer. 

My Harvard Vocabulary

It’s been a while since I’ve updated this blog. 

Because it had been so long, I felt this overwhelming pressure to make the next post a literary piece…you know, because I *am* halfway through a grueling academic year at Harvard.  (Insert eye roll)

But it did make me think about my writing and vocabulary. You would think that my being at Harvard would have caused my vocabulary to have grown exponentially. It hasn’t.

Don’t get me wrong, my classmates and I joke about some of the “expanded” language that is in our required readings.  I think some of these PhD’s use the trick of verbose language to meet chapter length since their publishers dictate font and spacing.  Then we students read it and get nothing out of it because it is 2AM, the coffee has long worn off and we have another couple of hundred pages to read for another course before 10AM.  It gets old quickly.

So, my new phrase which is concise, to the point, and shouldn’t be repeated in the presence of minors is: That’s fucked up.  I don’t like using it, because the f-bomb isn’t very lady-like, but the more I read about what’s going on in the world, the more appropriate the phrase is able to articulate what I’m feeling.  Unfortunately, I seem to be saying it more and more.

Mitt Romney and his 47% comment: That’s fucked up.

Honey Boo-Boo and Family: That’s fucked up y’all.

The Taliban shooting a young girl in the head because she wants an education: That’s fucked up.

An in-class discussion about the practice of murdering twins at birth because they’re bad luck, when I have a twin brother: That’s doubly fucked up.

M23 + DRC + Rwanda + rape as a weapon of war: That’s fucked up

The NRA spokesperson’s response to Sandy Hook and his solution to gun violence: That’s really fucked up.

The list goes on…

So, when you hear me say “That’s fucked up” it’s not to minimize what happened; it’s just my first gut reaction. Then my brain and heart engage to start the dialogue on to what to do in an attempt to fix the problem at hand.

I’m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing.  Right now, I’m just thankful that I haven’t started a comment in class with my new phrase.  It might make for an interesting spring semester though.

Recalibration

The semester will be over in less than a month.  

My last class is on December 6^th.  It’s a class that I absolutely adore, so it will be a little bittersweet.

In another class, I’m counting the days until my own personal hell is over.  I do not like this course. I have never liked this course.  It is highly unlikely that I will ever look back on this course with fond memories.  The only thing that I can say about this course that is positive is that the seats in the classroom are comfortable.

Today, one of my assignments was returned to me.  My grade was a B/B-.  In the Harvard world, this is a failing grade. At first I was a little shocked and disappointed.  While I’ve learned to “Embrace the B” it’s a completely different reality when that little minus sign is attached to the B. 

I cannot let the B- disturb my flow.  I now realize that I should have dropped the class.  A good friend, who has never steered me wrong, told me that if I didn’t like a class by the third meeting that I should drop it.  Unfortunately, I didn’t listen to her. I have decided that I will work my (increased-in-size) ass off for the courses that I actually enjoy. This one will get what’s left over and I will be ecstatic to bet a B-.

I vowed that I would not get caught up in grades, but here I am. To help me recalibrate, I re-read the essays in my application package. In one particular essay, I was very definitive about the way that I hoped to impact society.   Nowhere in the four essays did I mention grades, which says a lot.

My eyes are back on the prize.