With, For, In Love

My favorite classes in school have always been literature. My two favorite teachers of all time were literature teachers that greatly shaped the person I am today. They taught me how to learn about the world through fiction. My last literature class in college was about Latin America but specifically the US-Mexico border. The class came at the perfect moment in our world today, and especially in my world. I submitted this piece as a scholarly precise for my final project. However, my professor didn't accept it because it was not from a previously written scholarly work. This piece is my own "scholarly work" on just how dangerous consumerism is in the United States. Reading the texts mentioned (which you should absolutely look into) opened my ideas to horrors unknown to me. I hope it opens your eyes too.  *Latin@(s) is a way to indicate gender neutrality in the term Latinos        Consumerism in the United States affects more than people’s wallets. I...

One misstep and it shatters the entire fragile aesthetic we have worked so long and hard to create.  Over Christmas in 2016 my family took a trip to Seattle and Portland. There was amazing vegan food, cool museums, and lots of interesting places to visit. I often smile at those memories and cherish that time. However, one memory continues to scratch against all the others and create this jarring and painful thought. It's the homeless population in Seattle. I've visited New York City and other large cities before so I was no stranger to the concept of homelessness, especially in a city. But these homeless people were different. They seemed scary. I didn't feel safe. It seemed as though I needed to be very careful and I was very afraid to talk to them. That made me feel even worse. The trip was wonderful. Except this one memory. It continues to poke a hole in my perfect vision of Seattle. I came to Vietnam with a hazy vision of their culture, their food, and their way o...

"Are you okay? I mean really okay? "I don't know." If there's one thing I can rely on it's a list. I make lists for school, work, my life, the grocery store, and for my days off. It brings me comfort. Of course I made a list for Vietnam as well. On multiple pieces of paper and on several occasions. So when I arrived to Vietnam, I started following my list because it made me feel comfortable in a foreign environment. And I completed everything on there (except for getting a job). We found an apartment. We bought dishes, a fan, and a water jug. We found a gym. We found a market and a place to buy other goods. I moved all of my 50 pound suitcases into the apartment. I started class for my certificate. And James rented a motorbike. I checked it all off. But as the days went on I didn't seem to be very happy. It didn't occur to me that in completing my list and ensuring that within 7 days I did everything I needed to that I'd actually be...

My last year of college was filled with one awful question, "What are you doing after graduation?" I find myself asking my friends the same question. As though their careers are the most important part of who they are and what they are "doing" with their lives is only constituted by their jobs. But it did make conversation easy so I fell into the trap as well. For the first semester of senior year this question was a major source of anxiety not only when others asked me but when I asked myself.  What did I want to do? What could I do? Was I even good at anything?  I now have an answer to that awful question that I can breezily say because it sounds so adventurous and yet just like me (however, I am not the most adventurous at heart). On June 14th I'm taking 4 planes that will move me and my 100 pounds of luggage to Vietnam. In case you don't know it's the country that touches Laos, Cambodia, and China. I'll be living in Hanoi, the capital. I know...

"You're so strong for doing this." When you admit weakness you are inadvertently admitting strength, right? Well, I'd like to admit my weakness to you all and I am not expecting to become any stronger from it. I can't do this job. I'm not strong enough for it.  There, I finally said it! I thought I was stronger but as it turns out I'm really not. I went in to this summer with the expectation that this experience would confirm my dream career of starting a rehabilitation center for survivors of sex trafficking. I was so incredibly lucky to have the chance to test out what I wanted to do for my life before I actually did it. Plus, I had people supporting me spiritually, financially, and emotionally. There was nothing that could go wrong. Well, nothing did go wrong per se. I just gained clarity. These past seven months have been a big journey for me. It has been one of the first times in my life I've given myself permission to grow and change. I...

Imagine you wrote 100 letters at work. You stamped them, wrote down addresses, ensured all of the proper information was in them, sealed them, and sat them on your desk. You go in to work the next day and find all 100 letters are shredded. Everyday you have the potential of someone shredding your letters. That's how I feel in my internship. Helping people is really hard. That sounds like a no brainer, especially when dealing with people who have undergone intense trauma at a young age. But the thing is, you see the vision of how you can help. You see how you can help them make their goals a reality. You understand how all of the resources you're offering fit in to their lives. But we work with people. And people are complicated. The beauty in the everyday  I've realized that working with happy people is much easier. They accept help that you give them. They are grateful. They thank you for spending time with them. Reality check: there are 7 billion people in this...

Dear Men, Hello, I am a woman. Thank you for noticing. When I was walking down the street I forgot I was a woman so it was honestly very kind of you to remind me. I'm a pretty woman you say. Wow, thank you. In fact, for your kindness I'm going to drop everything and come over and talk to you immediately. You want my phone number? Here it is. You want to take me out? Let's go. I'm nothing but a woman desperately wanting to be noticed by every man on the street so thank you for fulfilling my deepest desires. When I would walk down the streets in Costa Rica I often was called at. I discovered it had a little something to do with the fact that I was a gringa with blonde hair. A prize if you will. I could be walking alone, riding my bike, walking with my boyfriend, or walking with friends. It didn't matter. I was going to be called at. It wasn't a nice compliment or a simple hello. It was laden with alternative thoughts and motives. I never felt better after the...