It's been roughly one year since the spark of the largest rush of my young adult life. Exactly one year ago, I spontaneously applied and was accepted to go to some conference called "Creating Change." I had never heard of it. But it was a queer conference, and I go to queer conferences so I didn't see the harm. The conference turned out to be a concentrated shove of resources, mentors, rationales and emotions all asking me what I was going to do about it. Long story short, the following months found me making arrangements to move to Washington DC for the summer to intern with one of the nation's largest LGBT organizations.
That summer changed me in the most transparent way I have ever felt. Upon coming back, I looked at the next 10 months as painstaking steps in achieving my goal of returning east and pursuing a career in the advocacy for human survival, empowerment and respect. So far I'm halfway there.
I just returned from the same conference, 1 year later. I had a completely different perspective both on the conference itself, and my role at the conference. Most of the mentors I had been involved with where there, all completely overwhelmed with their own agendas. I felt independent, strong and focused. I also felt an incredible rush of belonging.
Now it's day one of my return home, and I'm really pushing myself out of a slump. I'm skipping class right now, haven't showered in two days, and am behind in all of my classes. The conference is still rolling through my head, and I can't focus on the things I need to back in Eugene. Running through my head are the names, faces and conversations I've had with executive directors, organizers, public policy associates and many others that I sought out in hopes of finding my place on the east coast. Not once did I sit down and tell myself that I've done enough; I spent my free time in the bar or at a restaurant mingling with folks and letting my name be known. I know I've done the best that I can do, but after watching (wait for it...) the Devil Wears Prada last night and hearing Patrick's lecture to Andi about "not really trying", I wonder--am I there too? Or maybe I need to stop paralleling my life to movies. Or maybe I need to do homework instead of watching movies. Or both.
Either way I'm terrified of my future. I'm terrified that I haven't had this sense of purpose and focus for more than a year and it won't be long enough to find a career. But I'm ready to try. Really try.
Monday, February 2, 2009
DC (1)
I made a commitment to keep an updated livejournal while I was in DC this summer. I made it through 3 posts. Here's my first one.
I’m now going on day 5 of about 4 hours of sleep per night. The past few have been days of extreme exhaustion with equal amounts of stress and energy. Though it feels like an eternity, Friday was just a few days ago. Friday was a big day of cleaning, finishing packing, and moving (almost) everything I owned into storage. Following that was dinner with my dad and brother (who apparently is going to aviation school at lane in the fall). My dad and I had a few beers, which is always enough for me.
Ended up spending the rest of the evening having more beers with the people I care about most. The night ended up with terrible decisions, including going to bed extremely late. Saturday was the most intense day of my life. Those beers with my dad allowed us to completely forget to pack more things in my dad’s car to bring up to Portland; my little car has never been more packed. I found a place to live (24 hours before I arrived in DC), and drove home. When I got home, I received an email letting me know that my flight had been changed—and by changed, the meant cancelled. I spent the next hour frantically making arrangements.
Woke up at 4am on Sunday and hopped on a plane. Here I am, in our nation’s capitol, staying in the top floor of a 1907 colonial brownstone. I’m staying with a consultant who works in Homeland Security. He drives two cars, and just informed me he owns a second home in Florida, and on the local coast. He is extremely generous, kind, and has some of the most incredible stories (including his lesbian best friend/neighbor who was the vice president of glasco/welcome pharmaceuticals, I love hearing those stories of successful people..who happen to be gay). I have my own room, with attached office and my own bathroom. I’m right in Capitol Hill, four blocks from my subway stop. I went to bed and didn’t sleep at all; too nervous about my first day…my instincts were right on target.
I woke up at 6am and proceeded to get ready. I felt like Anne Hathaway in The Devil Wears Prada. I decided to make that the theme of my day, which ironically played out quite similar…minus the dragon woman. I got ready with “Suddenly I see” playing in my head, followed by Madonna’s “Jump” in my head as I got on the subway.
I was being completely ridiculous the entire morning. I was playing songs in my head, acting as if I was the star of the new movie, “The Dyke Wears Prada” (a movie title “Darren wears Prada” about a gay man’s career in civil rights wouldn’t have nearly the same effect). My imagination soon dissolved, as my realities would be more than I could create in my own mind.
I sat on the subway, riding to my stop “McPherson Square”. I passed other stops: Capitol South, Smithsonian, Pentagon City, etc. It was then I experienced my first holy-shit-this-is-my-life moment. I was on the subway, headed to my internship at the National leader in equal rights. My stops were national and global icons, where people from all over the world come to feel a part of a global leader—the opinions of how that leader manifests its power is an entirely different story, yet one of the primary reasons I’ve found myself in DC. Regardless, the impact and depth of my stay is slowly setting in.
One of my setbacks has been feeling entirely alone. I know two people here; one of which is a professional colleague and is pretty busy. We’re friends, but he’s also the director of an organization who rents from the Task Force (where I work), so it’s hard to be buddies at work. The other is an individual I’d rather not see (ironically, I was thinking that very statement when I heard my name shouted across Thomas Circle…low an behold, there he was. Small town?) Though I’m working with a bunch of other interns, I haven’t made very many connections yet. I find myself wanting to call everyone I know, hearing about what they’re doing and telling them what I’m doing. Working at a desk overlooking Thomas Circle, watching the traffic circle around and honking, flocks of business suits accessorized with Starbucks and Caribou coffee companies and designer sunglasses, sitting in on conference calls from Baltimore, LA, New York and Minnesota, taking lunch with colleagues, and sharing company emails (jcard@thetaskforce.org but don’t email me; it’s for work purposes only and they monitor) are all part of my day. And by day, I mean my first two. It’s already a completely different world. But it’s my world, if only for the summer, and I’m beginning to feel like I belong.
I’m now going on day 5 of about 4 hours of sleep per night. The past few have been days of extreme exhaustion with equal amounts of stress and energy. Though it feels like an eternity, Friday was just a few days ago. Friday was a big day of cleaning, finishing packing, and moving (almost) everything I owned into storage. Following that was dinner with my dad and brother (who apparently is going to aviation school at lane in the fall). My dad and I had a few beers, which is always enough for me.
Ended up spending the rest of the evening having more beers with the people I care about most. The night ended up with terrible decisions, including going to bed extremely late. Saturday was the most intense day of my life. Those beers with my dad allowed us to completely forget to pack more things in my dad’s car to bring up to Portland; my little car has never been more packed. I found a place to live (24 hours before I arrived in DC), and drove home. When I got home, I received an email letting me know that my flight had been changed—and by changed, the meant cancelled. I spent the next hour frantically making arrangements.
Woke up at 4am on Sunday and hopped on a plane. Here I am, in our nation’s capitol, staying in the top floor of a 1907 colonial brownstone. I’m staying with a consultant who works in Homeland Security. He drives two cars, and just informed me he owns a second home in Florida, and on the local coast. He is extremely generous, kind, and has some of the most incredible stories (including his lesbian best friend/neighbor who was the vice president of glasco/welcome pharmaceuticals, I love hearing those stories of successful people..who happen to be gay). I have my own room, with attached office and my own bathroom. I’m right in Capitol Hill, four blocks from my subway stop. I went to bed and didn’t sleep at all; too nervous about my first day…my instincts were right on target.
I woke up at 6am and proceeded to get ready. I felt like Anne Hathaway in The Devil Wears Prada. I decided to make that the theme of my day, which ironically played out quite similar…minus the dragon woman. I got ready with “Suddenly I see” playing in my head, followed by Madonna’s “Jump” in my head as I got on the subway.
I was being completely ridiculous the entire morning. I was playing songs in my head, acting as if I was the star of the new movie, “The Dyke Wears Prada” (a movie title “Darren wears Prada” about a gay man’s career in civil rights wouldn’t have nearly the same effect). My imagination soon dissolved, as my realities would be more than I could create in my own mind.
I sat on the subway, riding to my stop “McPherson Square”. I passed other stops: Capitol South, Smithsonian, Pentagon City, etc. It was then I experienced my first holy-shit-this-is-my-life moment. I was on the subway, headed to my internship at the National leader in equal rights. My stops were national and global icons, where people from all over the world come to feel a part of a global leader—the opinions of how that leader manifests its power is an entirely different story, yet one of the primary reasons I’ve found myself in DC. Regardless, the impact and depth of my stay is slowly setting in.
One of my setbacks has been feeling entirely alone. I know two people here; one of which is a professional colleague and is pretty busy. We’re friends, but he’s also the director of an organization who rents from the Task Force (where I work), so it’s hard to be buddies at work. The other is an individual I’d rather not see (ironically, I was thinking that very statement when I heard my name shouted across Thomas Circle…low an behold, there he was. Small town?) Though I’m working with a bunch of other interns, I haven’t made very many connections yet. I find myself wanting to call everyone I know, hearing about what they’re doing and telling them what I’m doing. Working at a desk overlooking Thomas Circle, watching the traffic circle around and honking, flocks of business suits accessorized with Starbucks and Caribou coffee companies and designer sunglasses, sitting in on conference calls from Baltimore, LA, New York and Minnesota, taking lunch with colleagues, and sharing company emails (jcard@thetaskforce.org but don’t email me; it’s for work purposes only and they monitor) are all part of my day. And by day, I mean my first two. It’s already a completely different world. But it’s my world, if only for the summer, and I’m beginning to feel like I belong.
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