Stuck in the middle with, well, me

After a month, I am finally settled in at my new home and job in Corpus Christi. After several weeks of graduation, packing and moving, hours of orientation at work, weekends filled with family and friends, and new classes, here I am, just me. And as much as I would like to say I love it, it’s just not that easy. I feel stuck, stuck in the middle of competing pressures. I am torn between a boyfriend and a place I consider my home in College Station and my new lifestyle in Corpus. I am torn between pressures to innovate on research projects, devote time to being a good teacher and emotional and physical exhaustion. I am torn between being a graduate student and being a new professor. I am trying to sort through it all, and while it all keeps going, I just want to linger in the middle. Just stay stuck for awhile. I know classes must be taught, research proposals have to be written, and life has to go on. But until I am ready to move forward, I just want to stay here - stuck in the middle with, well, me.


Yes I'm stuck in the middle with you
And I'm wondering what it is I should do
It's so hard to keep this smile from my face
Losing control yeah, I'm all over the place
Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, here I am
Stuck in the middle with you.

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune, without the words,
And never stops at all.

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

-Emily Dickinson

My Easter Sunday

Over the past decade I have struggled like so many young adults with my own spirituality. My faith and religious practices have waxed and waned, but I have always found myself at Easter service. At times it was indeed my mother's voice in my head saying, "If no other day, Easter is the most important day for Christians", that motivated me to get up and throw on an appropriate skirt and top to make the 11 o'clock sermon. But today I realized that Easter has moved me in more ways than responding to mama's guilt.

Today I sit in Palo Verde National Park, miles from any church service, unable to take part in the celebration of Easter. And I realized that, truly, Easter is special. It holds meaning no matter what your religious beliefs are. At the minimum, one may recognize that today marks a day that many celebrate as the immortality of a historical figure - a man named Jesus - that they believe rose from his grave. At the most, this day holds the deepest spiritual significance - that we too will live eternally with Jesus, that our salvation triumphs death. For all, it is a symbol of hope, of love. And without a sermon or congregation to celebrate this with, I found myself pondering Martin Luther King's sermon - "The Questions Easter Answers".

One of the most intelligent and spiritual men of our contemporary history put it most eloquently: Easter shows us that "love is the most durable power in the world." And, "through the love He revealed through Jesus Christ, things move on."

What a beautiful sentiment to celebrate today - and throughout the year - the transforming power of love.

the path ahead

I was stuck, looking at my feet. Right foot precariously perched atop a jagged rock and the left straining to reach the next tree root. Was this the path? What the hell kind of hiking trail is this? Catching myself before falling into a pile of leaves that I was convinced covered a sleeping creepy something, I looked up and saw the trail ahead. It was not obvious, no orange flag markers on the trees or wooden signs posts like on other sections of the hike. But it was clear that there was a path snaking through this pile of rocks, that bunch of roots. And I realized in that moment, that the path is not always obvious when you are looking minutely at the present but subtly clear when you stop to consider the bigger picture.

A fortunate benefit of this trip has been that I have had the time and space to stop and consider the bigger picture of my life, perhaps for the first time in years. Graduate school requires a focus on short bursts of time and energy - each semester, each class, each paper. And this pace has given me little time to sort out the direction I am headed. Now, I see some things more clearly. I know that, for one, finishing and defending my dissertation is a real accomplishment. Granted I still have revisions and paperwork to complete, but I did not truly appreciate passing my defense until now. I was simply too focused on the details of the moment. For two, I have come to realize that I have many talents and interests that are suitable for more than academia - I am good with people, I like projects but also administrative work, and I have a creative side that may be a real asset to a type of job in "the real world". I was not sure about this before, and now I am feeling more confident that my future should incorporate these gifts. And finally, I have found myself again doing research on local governments, and it makes me want to be part of government work. I may make a real effort in the coming months to look for a position in a government office or agency - in Austin or D.C. I feel a draw to that right now, maybe that will change - or not. We'll see.

While the path ahead is not completely clear, I see it unfolding before me, and I have peace that it will lead me to where I should be.

Charlemagne's Hometown

The French Quarter in New Orleans has always captivated me. It's a juxtaposition of old and new, a constant dynamic between antiquated tradition and modernization. In the wake of Hurricane Katrina, I have found this to be even more true when speaking to those that continue to live and work in New Orleans. The struggle is clearly evident to keep this city alive while maintaining its culture. I most recently visited in December with my best friend. Click to see some of my photos:

Charlemagne's Hometown

The fortune teller told me nothing
that I wouldn't have found out on my own.

She read my palm and took my money.
She looked at me with eyes of stone.

She said the odds are long and stacked against us.
Still we try for what we must,
to keep from leaving our senses, long forgotten in the dust.

Like the bones of some saint beneath the church floor,
who must have died from lack of light,
the color snapshots I sent you all came out in black and white.

Won't you fly across that ocean, take a train on down?
'Cause the night's growing lonesome in Charlemagne's hometown.

- James McMurtry

the trees are so quiet

You're gone, the trees are so quiet

When your hand was in my pocket

How they swayed from side to side

Now the meddling sky and my snowy eye

Sees a different night

The night I fell into the lion's jaws

To my regret and your delight


Those teeth themselves could not divine

Nor their pressure estimate

The haze I wish to never break

And to never contemplate

Momentum for the sake of momentum

Momentum for the sake of momentum

Of momentum

Neko Case, Lion's Jaws, Fox Confessor Brings the Flood

Over the river and through the woods...this is how social science is done.

I returned today from a two day trip literally over the river and through the woods (and down a few dirt roads) to the neighboring municipalities of Santa Cruz and Nicoya where I interviewed the mayors. I am now "home" in Palo Verde National Park. Sitting in the open-aired screened pavilion, I am showered, wearing clean clothes, and happily waiting for dinner with the staff. Two weeks (and some change) ago, I arrived wondering what I had gotten myself into. One night, my thoughts slipped to some graduate students here doing research on local plants, that this is "simply not how social science is done". But now I found myself with a renewed perspective. This is a way that social science can be done.

Here I am in Costa Rica studying environmental politics, and here I am in the middle - literally - of one of its most unique and prized national parks carrying out my research. And I am happy to report that I finally "got it". I have found an appreciation for this dry tropical rain forest that I loathed upon arrival. No, I don't love the mosquitos or the dust. But I do appreciate - deeply - the dynamics of the park, the bounty of its biodiversity, and its raw mystique. It is a treasure. And how lucky am I to realize this in the moment to fully appreciate it now and later.

Just a girl and her cat

So you may be wondering what's up with the image on my blog title. Well, first of all, I like it - a lot. And no, unfortunately I do not know the artist. I found it on a gift bag of all things. I like it because I have always been just a girl and her cat, since I can remember. And second, I idolize that woman. At times in my mind I too am a voluptuous, Latina girl (and in those moments I like to call myself Lupita). Wow, to have those boobs. The things I could accomplish...