In an effort to catch my blog up to now(ish), I’m going to do the down and dirty version of what I’ve been up to.
I decided, sometime in my last year of Peace Corps, that I wanted to get my MPH. So, when I got back I spent two weeks, more or less, staying with my mom and catching up with my friends. Then I headed out to look at the schools I was interested in. My trip started with my family in Stanford, involved a detour to LA to see more family and also Linda and Elaine, then to North Carolina, Washington DC (where I met up with KB), Baltimore (where I met up with Amalia), and Boston (where I met up with Stephen). In Boston, I also got to hang out with New York/Philly/Boston Sarah, and Yulie came down to visit, because I am an extremely lucky girl. We made an awesome Thanksgiving dinner and ate way too much food. Also, Sarah very evilly got me addicted to fluevogs
The entire time I was looking at schools, I was trying to figure out what I was going to pick. Every school had something different to offer; something better than another school, as well as something lacking that another school had. Also, I was conflicted about what I wanted to do. I didn’t want to have to choose between my two interests: domestic health policy, specifically about health care reform, and workforce issues in global health.
At first I had thought it would be easy. Leaving Peace Corps, I was really worried about slotting myself into one of the global health jobs that pretend that every country is the same and that the organization has the magic answers. I wanted none of that. I looked into all the global health programs, but it felt more like a courtesy call than anything else to me.
But then I went to the University of Washington’s global health info session. They got me into a lecture, I learned how the classes worked, and then went for a drink with a bunch of the GH students. Oh man, oh man, oh man. For the first time since I got back, I could talk with people who really understood where I was coming from. I didn’t have to worry about what I was saying or if I was boring anyone, or if people were really tired of talking about the world again. I didn’t even have to worry about voicing my worries about global health as an entity, because everybody was on board with everything I thought. Clarissa even later told me she thought the way I felt was the end decision nearly every PCV came back to.
But still, I didn’t and I don’t want to end up stuck in a job supporting something I don’t believe in. And that concern seemed more likely to come true in global health.
After Boston, I went to Chicago to see my dad. We hurriedly bought me clothes for the damn snow, because no such things existed in my wardrobe at the time, and then we went to a bunch of demonstrations and to my dad’s work holiday party.
Finally, I returned home, where mom was getting annoyed by my inability to stay put. So, we went to Yakima for Christmas with all the family. And then the next day I went to La Push with Naomi and her family. Oops, guess I still couldn’t stay put.
Naomi and I had a good time being less energetic than her family, and going to the museum reminded me of Summit. I swear we went there once on a field trip, but I can’t figure out how that worked—it’s too long of a drive for a day trip. At the museum, they showed a video, and in the video was a puppet show. Suddenly, I knew what was going to happen, I knew what some of the lines were, and I even knew it was a Carter Family Puppets production. I guess that last part wasn’t too surprising, given that Dmitri Carter was in my class in school.
At some point in there, I started volunteering for 826 Seattle*, did a citizen lobbyist day for Planned Parenthood (by the way, Sharon Tomiko Santos is awesome), and worked as an editor for Norwescon. I tried to get involved more with local health care reform organizations, and although I was failing until recently, I think I’m finally figuring out my place.
I returned to Stanford to celebrate my grandfather’s 85th birthday, where I saw bunches of cousins and the like I hadn’t seen in many many years.
I went back to Boston to welcome MacDonald, who had just gotten his green card, into the country, then I went to New York to spend some time with Yulie, and back to Boston for Sarah’s 30th birthday.
I went to Norwescon, and it was just as awesome as it was last year, even though having two awesome years in a row is actually pretty rare.
I did a Wellstone Action camp and discovered something of an aptitude for strategy with new media.
In the midst of all that, I was waiting to hear back from schools, and then I was trying to figure out how to decide what I was going to do. The program I wanted the most hadn’t accepted me (although every single other program I applied to did), but that rejection was freeing me up to hear the siren call of the UW’s global health program once again. I tried to fight it, I really did, thinking that the jobs wouldn’t be practical, that I’d be locking myself into a career path I didn’t want, that I should choose the more prestigious program I liked well enough.
In the end, the fact that the professor I had originally met with checked in with me to see if I needed to hash out what I wanted to do, even though I hadn’t written to him in a couple months; and the fact that over my travels I repeatedly found an instant connection with people who had an interest in global health; and the fact that I couldn’t make myself give up the global health program even though parts of me thought I was a fool not to go to Johns Hopkins, made me pick the UW. That choice was, ironically enough, confirmed by the passage of the health care reform bill. With the new found sexiness of health care reform, I fully expect the entire subject to become even more politicized than it has been, and in a way that I find less than useful.
My commitment to 826 Seattle nearly over, I finally planned my return trip to Costa Rica, and that’s where I am right this very minute.
*I loved working for 826 Seattle. The kids are great, and wickedly funny. As you get to know them, they confide more and more about school, about their lives. Like how embarrassing it is to learn life skills, because the teacher talks about body parts. Or how they’re doing in a subject they find hard that you’ve helped them with. It was usually the best part of my entire week.
