Life Timeline

Something I’ve touched on tangentially in previous posts is the idea of the “life timeline.” That is, the idea that there are certain steps to be taken in sequential order towards some societally defined understanding of success. Since I’ve taken many of these “steps,” I’ve started to get the question every newlywed or aging woman gets: so when are you going to have children? And to this I have two things to say:

  1. The outright assumption that I am going to have children is not cool. From those close to me it’s less offensive, as my love for children and my open life plan both indicate an intense desire to be a mother. But for others, children are not in the plan. They are not the end goal, and to assume a woman wants to be a mother implies that her identity is only defined by her relationships with others (daughter, wife, mother). In a world where women’s rights are better protected and enforced than ever before, to allow a woman’s worth, capabilities, or personality to be defined solely by her family is unacceptable.
  2. Even if it’s very clear that a woman wants to have children, it is a sensitive subject. For me, timing is everything; between finishing school and starting my career, I have to carefully plan when I’d like to start having children in order to maximize my time with them and my potential career trajectory. Other women may be privately struggling with infertility or marital problems, which makes having (or not having) a child a very sensitive issue. Deciding to have a child is a deeply personal decision, and prying into that area is insensitive and invasive. My decision on when I would like to have children is frankly nobody’s business but my own (and my husband’s!).

With societal expectations of women and mothers increasingly unrealistic, it is essential for individuals to respect the rights and privacy of young and newly married women. Just because there is a socially approved progression of events that individuals are expected to follow does not mean that is the only way. Respect individuality, celebrate life choices, and remember the importance of finding your own way in a world still set on having everyone do things the same way.

Through the Eyes of A Senator

Every fall I take a class with Professor Pitney. As a domestic politics guru with unparalleled character, Pitney is one of the most entertaining and inspiring educators I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I saved what is commonly considered his “best” class for my senior year: Congress. I was not disappointed. The highlight of the class is a four-night simulation of the United States Senate. We vote on who will be president, which party will hold a majority, and which committees will be simulated, each student adopting the persona, preferences, and policies of one senator. We write legislation, hold hearings, markup bills, and vote.

Beyond looking at the simulation as a challenge to adopt the beliefs and perspective of another person, the experience provides really interesting insight into the inner workings of our government. Beyond required sessions, my peers and I would regularly meet to read and write legislation, create amendments, and whip votes. We spent a fair bit of time researching parliamentary protocol and legal verbiage.

What emerged was a fuzzy picture, a blurred reflection of the experiences of actual senators. In some ways, it seemed empowering – a reminder that behind every law is a legislator, and that there are mechanisms in place to encourage thorough discourse and deliberation. In other ways it served as a dark reminder that polarization and partisanship are powerful, and that policy positions can be adjusted if politically expedient.

The job of a legislator is not one that should be taken lightly. The nuances and complexities of politics can dampen even the brightest, most idealistic ambitions. The harsh realities of toeing the party line and doing what it takes to pass legislation make the job less about doing what is right and more about compromise. The obligations members of Congress must balance – to their own ideals, their constituents, and the nation – are intense and at times contradictory.

The simulation revealed the nuances of government to me in ways that are difficult to articulate. Any simulation alum would agree: politics is less of an art and more of a game, a lot of strategy and a dash of luck.

Cultural Awareness

Growing up, a lot of people asked me “what I was.” With dark brown hair, tan skin, and brown eyes, many people assumed Hispanic or Italian. I’m actually 25% Chamorro (Guam!), 50% Norwegian, and 25% mystery since my nana doesn’t know where her family was originally from (but she thinks a mix including Italian/Japanese). Yet my biological heritage did not translate into any kind of cultural experience. My Norwegian nana makes lefse for Christmas and has a sign that says jeg elsker deg (I love you), but other than that my upbringing included no culture-specific traditions or practices.

In college, discussions of race, heritage, and appropriation have increased my desire to learn about and engage with culture in ways I have not before. I want to know how I can appreciate and participate in cultural practices respectfully. I want to know what role I can take in ensuring people of all backgrounds and heritage are treated with dignity and afforded access to resources and opportunities. So I reached out to my friend Kayli, a fellow senior at CMC who is extremely involved in efforts to promote the rights of native Hawaiians, indigenous peoples, and Pacific Islanders. I asked her how she approaches discussions regarding culture and how to reach out to people to learn more about their culture. This is part of her response:

“When people respectfully ask about my culture and show sincere interest, I’m more willing to talk about my culture and invite people to cultural events to share my identity with them… When I engage with other cultures, I try to get invited into that space through friends in order to understand the culture and respect it…”

Her points seem intuitive in hindsight, but they are incredibly helpful as a starting point for someone trying to increase their knowledge of other cultures in an appropriate way. Breaking it down, the most important points are these:

  1. Be sincere. If someone sees that you are interested, they will probably be happy to share their cultural experiences and knowledge with you.
  2. Wait for an invitation. Lots of cultural practices are intimate and extremely important to participants – without an invitation it may seem that you are imposing or appropriating.
  3. Open a dialogue. Help people understand what your background is and where you’re coming from, which will help them understand your perspective and encourage them to share their own.

“Adulting” and College

Any senior writing thesis yearns for the academic schedule they had freshman year: simpler days, lower level classes and general education requirements, enough time to finish all of your reading AND go out on a weekday. But no, thesis season is for all-nighters, forgotten readings, and waving at deadlines as they whoosh by with a paper disappointing for both student and teacher. For me, and many other students, it’s not actually about the workload. It’s about taking on more “adult” responsibilities and spreading time and effort across various obligations that just didn’t exist in the first year(s) of college.

A rundown of my week will show exactly what the schedule of a senior looks like. I have one project (15% of grade), one debate (25% of grade), two mini research papers (15% of grade), and a congressional simulation (25% of my grade). On top of that, I have readings for classes and a 40-page thesis draft due in less than a week. On top of THAT, I recently moved and need to unpack, work two full days a week, and have familial obligations planned to take up the entire weekend.

It’s a lot to do. Individually, these assignments or responsibilities are not daunting. In fact, they’re enjoyable. But together, they require me to spread my attention and resources so thin that it seems like nothing is being done adequately. This wasn’t the case in previous years, and it’s extremely frustrating to have the high expectations I have for myself tempered by a finite amount of time and effort.

Students reaching the end of their undergraduate careers know what this feels like. With job and graduate school applications taking precedence, optional readings and extra research are put aside. With financial obligations looming ominously, taking an extra shift is more important than revising a term paper. Learning becomes deadline management, because the “real world” is coming up fast. This semester I am taking three classes (and thesis) with professors who I have taken once, twice, and three times before. Never have I struggled to finish coursework for these amazing educators. This semester, I find myself up until three in the morning regularly, just trying to get through mandatory readings.

It’s a truth that has challenged my understanding of higher education and society’s expectations of students and young adults: you have to have your life together by the time you finish college. Yet the actual and perceived pressure this places on students nearing graduation is immense. It jeopardizes the ability of students to be fully engaged with their coursework, because they must also balance job-searching, house-hunting, and learning how to pay bills and navigate the transition from student to “real adult.”

Different – not better.

Since getting married months before my 21st birthday, I have quickly jumped from milestone to milestone at a pace more rapid than many of my peers. I did what I needed to do to push my graduation date up to December 2016, accepted a post-graduation job after a successful summer internship, and my husband and I recently purchased a dog and our first real house. Some of my close friends jokingly congratulate me for “adulting so hard,” for achieving many of the “traditional goals” so early.

But the truth is, I often see differences between the choices and lives of my friends and peers as beautiful expressions of freedom, individuality, and personality.

I have multiple friends who see marriage as an outdated custom born out of a societal need to legally oppress and control women. I appreciate their perspective and their strength as women whose aspirations and self-worth are independent of their romantic relationships. I have friends who are planning on moving across the country to bet it all on a career that they have been dreaming about for years. I admire their hope, passion, and willingness to venture into the unknown in search of greatness. I know people who are applying to graduate programs, and am inspired by their desire to further their knowledge and their confidence that they can use their education to change the world.

People around me are doing amazing things, taking leaps of faith, and following their dreams with more heart and well-intentioned ambition than I had ever thought possible. I vehemently oppose the idea that there is some structure, some socially constructed timeline one must follow in order to be successful, to be happy, or to be “right.” So to all my friends out there doing their own thing, standing up against social injustice, contributing to research on obscure topics, congratulations; to all my friends falling in love, with their best friend, with their significant other, with their job, or with their studies, thank you for your passion. To all my friends living paycheck to paycheck, trying to make a difference by being a good person in a world threatened by bigotry and inequality, keep it up. We need you all, and there will always be someone cheering you on.

“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.” ― Ralph Waldo Emerson