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.
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.
