post-commencement

The question posed to me most aften this weekend was "Is it weird being back?" In regards to returning for a visit four months after graduating from Kenyon. No, it was not weird. I needed the flood of familiar faces and hugs and repeating "I'm living in Minneapolis with an Americorp position" a thousand times. I found myself squealing every time a friend identified their class year, especially the new seniors.

I recognize fewer faces, and I think funny looks from first-years proved that we feel mutual non-recognition, but I hope they all found my anonymity a sign that they are acclimating to Kenyon because they can identify that I am not a student. A 2012 alumni could be judgmental, or bitter towards the class of 2016, replacing our well-earned places as Kenyon students, but I couldn't help but think as every unknown face passed by, "What groups did they sign up for at the activities fair?" "What are they going to lead on campus" "Are they going to join Crozier/POV/WKCO/all of the above"

Kenyon was the same, but Kenyon is very different. I don't like the nickname "Wiggle Ground" for Middle Ground 2.0, the second floor of the library was hardly recognizable, though the remodel doesn't make me cringe or have flashbacks to the chair and table at which I sat for the majority of my junior year, writing papers and feeling all the feelings. The only "weird" moment came when I walked into Bucket Haus, though is now ECO/PEAS, yet has hints of the inaugural residents. The stairway was sporadically spackeled to cover the flaws caused by the wall of awesome, and the falcon lives, though now on the first floor.

The constants of Peter, Crozier, Peirce (a fantastic assortment of desserts including the fanciest pudding cups I have ever seen, sorry Drew, I couldn't get a photo. Through I probably would hide it from you anyway) and friends filled me with joy. I know I will forever feel comfortable on that campus, comfortable to walk and talk and comfortable to engage and confront. Amidst the love and the lolligagging, I understand Kenyon is dealing with outsourcing drama, a new sexual misconduct policy and President Nugent leaving at the end of the year. The Kenyon I attended does not exist in a vacuum, I am still processing and learning from the experiences I had and the classes I took. The relationships with friends are still growing and changing, I would be denying myself the chance to learn by trying to freeze a time and place that has passed. 

people today

33 days of officially living in Minneapolis, and I have randomly encountered 2 familiar faces. Thats an average of running into .06 people I see a day that I know. Which is in fact much higher than I thought it would be in a big city. The first person was Victoria Malawey on the bike path. I recognized her voice saying "on your left" and she stopped when I called out "Victoria Malawey! It is Ellen Blanchard!" That was probably only the second time I have ever called her Victoria to her face. Then, this evening while walking to the lake, I greeted a co-worker running by on the bike path. So far, I only see .06 people a day, but with a 100% bike path encounter rate.

Another crazy random happenstance was walking back after swimming, I saw a couple pushing their small child in a stroller. The wife had on a shirt screenprinted with the shape of Michigan. I complemented her and she immediately asked if I was from Michigan. I replied that I am indeed, from Petoskey. They stopped in their tracks and exclaimed that their last name was Petoskey. That could either mean they are Polish (Petoski) or they are related to Chief Ignatius himself. Their lineage is unclear because a great-distant-relative was adopted. Though they are from metro Detroit and they do enjoy sharing the name with a place they visit often. 

Learning doesn't end after college.

The most important piece of advice I received at Kenyon college, from Peter Rutkoff, while in his office for the first time as his advisee.

My job training begins tomorrow, and I could not be more excited! Because if I spend another idle day in this apartment I will spontaneously combust, it is only so many times that you can bleach the bathtub, vacuum the porch, clean lighting fixtures, change lightbulbs, or do dishes (though I will be doing endless dishes because we don't have a dishwasher #chorechart)

Even though I have not officially begun my employment, Peter proved correct (obvi) because here are a few lessons I have already learned after college:

Transitions are difficult, but even more difficult is sudden and abrupt change, for example, packing up all of your belongings in the 7 hours after you walk across the stage to accept your diploma, getting on a plane and 8 hours later being on another continent, saying goodbye to friends you only had  21 days to get to know, loading your car in a day only to unload it 2 days later and 500 miles away.  (digression--transitions are wonderful moments of opportunities opening before you--but they are also full of stress, emotion and uncertainty)

I am an extrovert. Obvious statement is obvious, but truly, I gain all of my energy from other people. Having spent a lot of time alone in Ghana, at home, and now in two weeks in Minneapolis it is painful to do things without others. Which leads me to a final lesson for the evening...I am a big fish. Yes, it's true, I grew up as a big fish in the small pond of Petoskey (though we are so blessed to have the enormous lake out our windows). Petoskey is a small enough pond that I can walk into every single store on Lake Street and know the employees, and some customers (maybe not in July, but definitely in April). Then I moved to Gambier, Ohio which is basically the same set up with the privileged exception that majority of the population is immersed in academia, and between the ages of 18-22. Now, I still claim my identity as a big fish, but now I am swimming in a GIANT OCEAN. This is the third time I have found myself as an anonymous in the community. The first being in high school, you don't have much social clout as a 14-year-old, but eventually, I directed the student-produced play and spoke at graduation...then at Kenyon, it took at least a year to teach everyone where my hometown is located on the Michigan hand-mitten, but eventually, I co-managed Crozier, started the Youth Philanthropy Initiative, and directed "Speak: Women's Voices from the Hill." At Kenyon, I sometimes dreaded leaving my haus because I knew I would have to greet, chat, or interact with every person I saw. Now, I dread leaving my house because I know I will pass by more people in one block than would be on the path to Pierce at lunchtime, and I will recognize no one. At the moment I am pretending that what I need to do here, in this new community, is subscribe to some e-mail lists, attend meetings, and in a few years I will be a quotable notable woman of Minneapolis. Well, that reality check is in the mail as I slowly convince myself this "real-world" is nothing-Nothing-NOTHING like anything I have ever experienced. At least, let's hope, for the moment.

the way we live

I had a hard time collecting my thoughts in Ghana to write a relevant and cohesive post. It's not that I was entirely overwhelmed or suffering intense culture shock, I think I got caught up comparing every anecdote to India, which I wanted to avoid. Ghana was nothing like India and I too frequently thought about them in the same string of consciousness.

I was in Ho, in the Volta Region of Ghana for 31 days, living in a hotel, with meals prepared by a kitchen staff. We also had cleaning service every day and could drop off our laundry when needed. Luxury, if you ask me. A few moments without electricity and a few more without water, but a headlamp and reserve water buckets eased the inconvenience.

The focus of each day was in the morning, whether vaccinating animals in a village or teaching in a school. We visited many villages surrounding Ho: Kpenoe (pronounced PEN-way, but I liked saying it phonetically ka-PEN-oh), Wegbe (WEG-bay), Kpetoe (PET-way), Akoefe (A-KWEF-ay) and Akrofu. Even though we were in the villages for a short amount of time we circumnavigated to get to as much livestock as possible, so we got to see the layout, interact with the people and really get a feel for the personality of the village. Even though the communities are close together, they had different atmospheres. We got to know the people of Kpenoe the best, we visited the most often and vaccinated tons of goats with the help of many women and children. Something I noticed was the variety of goat enclosures. Even though it was the same village, people built pens, fences, and walls with different materials, different sizes, different shapes. Wegbe was in a beautiful location at the foothills with lots of cinderblock structures and a landfill. We visited Akoefe when all the farmers were out in their fields, so it was desolate but when we returned to vaccinate chickens, the people were very nice and it was clean and organized. A huge part of what I learned in Ghana was getting to know the different villages and witnessing the diversity of living styles within a 20km (roughly) radius.

Now, back at home, I cannot help but notice another comparison to India. I am feeling a greater shock coming home from a month in Ghana, where I did not experience intense culture shock like I did for three months in India. I think coming back from India I was so excited to be home, in my own bed, with my family, and drinking tap water that I embraced my cultural reentry. But in that short visit to Ghana, I am startled by the things I do here at home. Jumping in the car and driving to the beach, going to the dentist, making dinner, weeding in the garden. I observed everything in Ghana, taking note of how they do things, how they live life, and now I am doing it to myself. I feel I need to remind myself "this is how I do things," "this is how I live my life," but because I am in a time of rapid transition I don't think I have figured out how I am going to live my life.

Scattered thoughts.

Sorry it has taken me a week to collect my thoughts about Ghana. I want to share the little snippets I think you will enjoy:

The typical greeting is: "Hello, You're welcome" and the response is "Yoo" or "Yoooooooo" and then they giggle because we know how to respond.

The city we are in (Ho) is primarily Christian, so the names of shops are:
God is Good Hair Salon
Emmanuel Auto Parts
Thy God mini Mart
End Times Hair Salon

We are eating at our hotel, so I don't know if we are getting the full authentic experience of Ghanain food. But we are eating rice, chicken, and tilapia. The interesting dishes are spinach stew and steamed bread. The most delicious foods I have had so far are mashed yams, sweet bread and pineapple. all fruit for that matter.

The patterns of clothes are beautiful, and today was market day, so we pushed through the crowded streets full of dizzying colors and smells. Carts overflowed with fruit and fish.

Adventures thus far:

We visited a village to de-worm their goats and I handled some goats to squirt the medicine into their mouths. I talked to the goats to try to settle them down. I would have passed out stickers for all my good patients.

African dance and drum classes are absolutely amazing. My body pours with sweat and my hands throb with pain, but it is so satisfying. Last night, the Kekeli Kids performed for us and I was on the edge of my seat the whole time until Victor pulled me up and made me dance.

Victor is our Ewe language teacher. He is stubborn and really arrogant, and moves really fast in class, but it is great! (He is not a sweet and gentle Harshji, but no one could replace Harshji)

Today we went to a primary school and Sunshine (that is her nickname) Emily and I read books to the 4th and 5th graders and did a project with them where we cut out words from newspapers and made sentences and poems. Some of the best sentences:
"Golden Immortality"
"Ghanains have the power"
and
"Beware of the Elephants"

That's all for now! All my love!

Ellen

Rated PG

PG for Post-Grad. Obviously.

About a month ago, my mom told me that she wishes she wrote down her thoughts and feelings during her transition from college to the real world. A journal, or something, but she was not telling me that I had to do it....

One of the greatest realizations of post-graduation is that I can read. for fun. I immediately devoured The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks and needed more pages to turn. My bookshelf contains picture books, Harry Potter, Calvin and Hobbes, and a wrinkled torn copy of the anthology of 50 Essays we read selections from junior year in AP Comp. Reading these essays always felt like a chore, we never contextualized the authors (unless they were Martin Luther King Jr. or Thomas Jefferson). All I remember is that we read "A Modest Proposal" and discussed its irony every week. Or at least it felt like it. I resented this book, but I held unto it, thinking one day I would read "A Modest Proposal" again for laughs, or maybe when I was old enough to turn it into a drinking game...

This anthology caught my eye and I pulled it off my shelf I scanned the back only to find that it is contains essays of astounding relevance. I took a personal essay writing class last semester and now understand persona, self-deprecation as a means of gaining trust, and finding the objective correlative. I did not enjoy the essays as a 16-year-old but now have 6 more years of life experience to reflect on when reading about certain themes from specific authors. My 16-year-old annotations are pathetically entertaining "Ohhhh" and "YAY" and "good choice." I also identified every single simile. I circled unfamiliar words, but now reading over them again, I can check off the words that I now know the meaning of. abhor, dais, botulism, stupor. 

Most of the essays I find most meaningful now are the ones we never touched in AP Comp. Not surprising that they are from minority voices. I am now trying to figure out how I would make these essays fit into the curriculum of a high school history class.

Maya Angelou "Graduation" -relevant considering the most recent event of my life, and also interesting to compare the commencement address Angelou heard to the one I heard.

Gloria Anzaldua "How to Tame a Wild Tongue" -I had gloria anzaldua in my hand at age 16. I don't know if I would have understood a queer chicana poet at that time. Fortunately, now I find her inspiring and even the cadence of her name invigorates me.

James Baldwin "Notes of a Native Son"-read it in class, got even more out of it a second time.

Linda Hogan "Dwellings" -Hogan wrote "The Woman Who Watches Over the World," my favorite book from Intro WGS about the history of suffering in her native Chickasaw tribe.

Those are my recommendations for now, but other authors included are many that I have read this past semester: Judith Ortiz Cofer, Joan Didion, Annie Dillard, Richard Rodriguez, Scott Russel Sanders, David Sedaris, and Thoreau. Other authors that now resonate with me are N. Scott Momaday, whose autobiography I read sophomore year, Zora Neale Hurston, Sojourner Truth, Alice Walker and Leslie Marmon Silko, my mom's newest feminist find.

Now I know at least 28 of the 50 authors of which I probably only knew 8 when I was 16. College clearly taught me something.  
 

Time to go.

I have not been geographically stationary since 2008.

On Thursday I leave for Ghana, I am accompanying an abroad program for 4 weeks. Peter (my advisor from Kenyon) is sending me with his wife's OSU class. We will be doing many site visits including schools, farms, and an orphanage. We will be taking dance, drum, and language classes and learning from local experts about Ghanaian culture and rural development.

If you are wondering where Ghana is, you can google it. Or, imagine you are tickling Africa under its chin and that is where Ghana is located on the continent. Ghana is a friendly, vibrant country with great music and art. I am not sure what to expect exactly, but I am ready to begin the adventure!

My cell-phone access will be non-existent and my Internet access will be sporadic. I will update here or on facebook.

Also, please excuse the cheesy song, but Maggie got it stuck in my head in April.

It's blog season

Well, it's that special time again. When I feel isolated and distant from familiar friends and places I felt most attached to and need to share my thoughts with those people and hope that they respond with some sort of validation so I know I am not forgotten.

I just left Kenyon College with degree in hand, marking my official status as an alumnus. More importantly, officially no longer a student. That is what is the most difficult to accept, I am no longer a student. I identified myself first and foremost as a (freshman, sophomore, junior, senior) at Kenyon College [in Ohio] for the past four years. It was an efficient way to answer how old I am, where I currently live, what I am studying-if they had never heard of Kenyon, they didn't really care, and if they had heard of it, they knew it was some highfalutin subject that won't actually get me employed. But know I answer with the ambiguous "I graduated from Kenyon" which does not answer how old I am, or where I currently live, or if what I studied really has anything to do with my job. I can no longer claim the exclusive title of "Kenyon Student" that only 1600 young people have the honor of flaunting any given year. We had to leave to make room for the 18-year-olds bursting with delusions of grandeur of what they are going to accomplish as a Kenyon student. It's odd. Feeling so immediately separated from something that I was so immersed in two weeks ago.

The first piece of wisdom I ever received as an over-eager first-year from Peter Rutkoff: Learning does not end after college. Let's see if he's right!

start

its the start of a new year, a new semester, but I feel anything but new. Everything is so familiar, the place, the people, the smell, the feelings, the intonation of my steps on the sidewalk (ooooo feelings)...which is all wonderful, I would not give up my experiences of creating all this familiar, but this is what cabin fever must feel like. Getting stir-crazy. 18 weeks until graduation. I have so much to look forward to this year, and I feel like the things I am really counting down to are not happening until May (my 22nd birthday, graduation, moving to minneapolis) I need to decide if I want to throw myself into this semester and work hard and get involved in lots of things, make lists, stay busy to distract myself. Or enjoy it. Take the time to smell the flowers, relax and soak up my last semester. I guess that breaks down as have an active or passive semester. I have always had incredibly active semesters, but always find time to play my ukulele, laugh with friends, go for walks. I think the conclusion I am coming to is that I need to treat this semester just as I have ever other semester at this school, not drawing attention to everything being "the last" I think I can do that. So, let 2012 commence.