It’s true… I’ve been in a “burn down the capitol” mood the past few weeks.  My best friend has definitely helped fuel it, being the communist that he is (haha), but the fact is, I’ve somehow come full-circle in realizing where I stand on a lot of things.

When I left college (my radical, left-wing women’s college in MA), I was very tired of the constant push for activism and very much ready to hear what Georgetown had to say about change within the system, the virtues of being moderate, and, generally, the importance of de-radicalizing.  My first year of graduate school, I’ll admit, I bought in, hook line and sinker, because they were telling me exactly what I wanted them to, exactly what I wanted to hear - and from Georgetown, supposedly the most reputable source in the country.  A graduate degree in Government from Georgetown is a degree in Moderate Politics, whether you want it or not (I’m not talking about SFS, that’s a degree in Conservative Politics), and I ate it up because I was tired, tired of the Pioneer Valley with all the old hippies who never affected any real change in the world because they never left their happy little bubble, tired of people always yelling about change but never doing anything - I got this great experience where I could work towards what people I respected (my professors) called change, and not scream and yell and run myself out because of it.

And I applied for the government jobs.  And the think tank jobs.  And the internships.  I courted the Federal Government for employment multiple times before getting cold feet at the last minute.  I visited the State Department and registered for the exam, only to not show up on the morning of the test.  I got the internship, and I took it, and I show up for work dutifully every day and sit in an office where people work within the system, putting their Georgetown graduate degrees to good use getting paid by the government to tell the government what it wants to hear.  And I can tell you now, after months of having “worked within the system,” that I have never been more radical in my life.

I am thankful for my Georgetown degree, because I have also never been more well-educated in my life about the issues I want to act on.  And I’m going to law school for people like this, and all the liberation lawyers who came before me, who got educated, who learned the law, and who used it not within the system but against the system.  Who used their brains, their educations, their passion, to really change things.  I know who I am - more now than ever - and I know where I stand, and I also know that I am backed by the best education available to anyone in this country.  This should be a terrifying thing to anyone who clings to the structures of oppression.

I regret that I wasn’t alive then; I regret bitterly that I wasn’t there to fight police outside of Stonewall, to stand up for women’s rights in the 60’s and 70’s, to fight segregation, to take the first steps towards liberation.  But those were just the first steps, just the first steps, in a long journey - and I am becoming a powerful force: educated, passionate, confident, and driven - to keep taking the steps we have to take to follow in the paths of the people who were there to do those things, to pave the way so that someone like me can get a degree from Georgetown, a law degree, a career, and make real change.

In the past I’ve been afraid, afraid of myself, afraid of what other people would think, afraid of making my way in the world.  I’ve apologized for who I am, and that’s something I will never forgive myself for.  I have learned, in the past few years, that I am an incredible young woman.  I am a radical feminist, a gay, Jewish, Hungarian-American Woman; I will soon be a lawyer, I am Georgetown-educated, I am a political scientist, I am one hell of an intellectual, I am powerful and intense and not shy or demure or afraid, I am not apologetic, I am not pushed around.  And one day soon, I am going to raise holy terror to the pieces of this broken system that tried and continue to try to break and silence people like me, and people not like me, and people like you…

So yes, I’m going to law school.  But I guess what I’m saying is, don’t expect to see me in a corporate suit anytime soon.

So as the move to Seattle becomes more and more imminent (and by imminent I mean about 6 months away) - I find that I have to remind myself more and more frequently that this is what I want.  What I’ve been wanting.  The answer to coastal fatigue - move home.  Home is Seattle, or at least, that’s the closest viable city to the large amorphous area I call home.  So if I want to quit switching coasts every time I need to see someone important to me, I have to consolidate, I have to move out there.  And I couldn’t ask for better - I mean, Liz wants to come with me, it’s a tier 1/top 30 school, I love Seattle, I already have a ton of friends there, both my parents will be close by and they’re both happy with the decision (the last time I could say that? can’t remember.) - there’s nothing to stop me.

Except, I mean, that I love DC.  Which is ridiculous really because I hate DC.  But that’s the problem with this city.  That you can’t really love it without really hating it, and you can’t really hate it without really loving it.  And now I have a ton of friends here too… actually my first real adult friends… who I’m going to have to leave when the academic centrifuge picks up again and spins us all around and away from each other.

You know this was the first place I ever lived as an adult, on my own, without the bubble of a dorm/school/whatever to protect me.  I moved here in the summer of 06 without ever having set foot in the city, drove down the day after I graduated college, moved into an apartment I’d never seen, said goodbye to my dad and friends, and forced myself to get a job/internship and forge a life here.  I’d spent the six or so months before that hearing from a fairly nasty influence in my life that I didn’t stand a chance at surviving on my own in the city, and I had a huge chip on my shoulder and something to prove, and I think without even realizing it, I really did.  And dammit, I made this place my home.

So now the scary thing is, that for the first time ever in my life (and I know this is part of that whole “Growing Up” checklist) - I have a place that I have chosen (not a place I just kinda landed) that I have made my home.  A place that every time it’s quiet, some little voice in my head whispers, I could live here.

I’ve always called Seattle my home.  Which is strange I know since the truth is I’ve never actually lived there (but home, really, is just as constructed as any other part of our identities, so I might as well get to choose where I say it is) -  but for the first time (and I haven’t stayed anywhere for more than 4 years since I was 11, I’m 23 now) - I found myself missing DC when I was home in Seattle for December.  I’ve never missed another place from Seattle.  I always felt at home there, whole.

As much as I think it would piss my grandmother off to hear me say this (she thinks gypsies steal babies and replace them with demons) - I have a gypsy heart.  I’m allergic to staying in one place.  And now the world (and me, too) threw all these obstacles up in front of me just as the choice that I thought would be the easiest of all is looming in front of me.

I mean I think I know what choice I’ll make in the end.  But I just need to underscore the bitter irony here, that the easiest choice of all - the choice to go home after all these years of wandering - is turning out to be the hardest choice I’ve ever made.

Currently listening: Carsie Blanton - Ain’t So Green 

So if anyone still reads this - I apologize for the more-than-excessive dead time on this blog.

I came back to DC to a short weekend and then began my full-time job/internship and then began classes, meaning 2 days of my week are 12 hour days for me, plus I tend to have appointments in the evening… so things have been more than hectic trying to get adjusted to the new schedule.  I was so used to the student life that it took me a good 2 weeks to get used to getting up at 7am and not getting home until 6 or, sometimes, 9.  It’s hard!!  Haha I know, no sympathy.

This will be short but I wanted to let you all know the blog is NOT DEAD…

And in one piece of brilliantly good news: barring some sort of bizarre natural disaster, next year I will be a 1L at the University of Washington School of Law in the JD/LLM Asian Law program.  WOOOO!!!!!  I got in!  It was my first letter, it was from my first choice, and it was great news.  I couldn’t ask for more.  I got more than lucky.  I am blessed.

Mark the Date: Dec. 1 2007 - All Law School Apps Submitted.

I applied to about 15 schools.

I applied across the board, but I do refuse to go to a Tier 4 school - so if I don’t get in where I want this year, I’ll probably end up working for a year, hopefully someplace decent, then reapplying next cycle.

It’s such a crackpot process. Luckily getting interesting jobs (at least interviews) hasn’t been hard for me so I don’t have to worry too much about that if law school doesn’t pan out this cycle.

The List (capital “L” List!)

UW
Seattle U
American
George Washington
Georgetown
UNC (Chapel Hill)
Tulane
Willamette
Lewis & Clark
University of Oregon
UC Berkeley (ha!)
UC Davis
USF
USD
USC
Boston College
University of the Pacific
Marquette
Wisconsin - Madison
George Mason U

Let’s hope I’m not 0 for 15 come February!

I should have been asleep an hour ago.  I have to get up early tomorrow, and run the ten million errands I never have time to do on Mondays.  Mondays are classes, noon to 8.  No time for anything.  Did manage to get my GOCard replaced though, so I’m no longer a GU refugee.

I told my dad the other night (this is mostly what inspired the last post) that I was really targeting Seattle, at least West Coast, law schools for next year.  I was really excited when I told him, I know it was in my voice, and I thought he would be really excited too, because I’d be closer too home and I could see him (and my mom too) more often… but the response was really quite the opposite.

First, I was a little taken aback that he was surprised that I was going to law school.  Hmm… it’s been a priority for at least the last year or so, and the application process has consumed my life for the last 6 months.  But the Worst Part was definitely the fact that suddenly the approval and support that had been there all along seemed to suddenly have dissipated.  I was left on the other end of the phone, hurt and confused, while he berated my choice of life path by telling awful lawyer jokes about how it’s funny that Musharraf is shooting lawyers.

Well, first, the lawyers he’s ‘disappearing’ happen to be dedicated, passionate people risking their lives for the cause of an independent judiciary in an autocratic state, so they don’t sound so horrible to me…

And second… why is it ok to berate your child’s life choices? It’s not like I said, hey dad I want to be a mechanic!

I know, I know.  I’m 23, and sooner or later I have to learn to be proud of myself, and not need my reassurance to come from anywhere else but me (or Liz, or friends, I guess)- but deep inside I think there will always be this little girl who just wants her dad to be proud of her.

Luckily for me, though, I’m strong and confident and capable and independent… and I do believe in myself, and though it breaks my heart that my family isn’t behind me, I know that no matter what, I’m going to shine like gold in the air of summer~ just by the fire of my own will, just by my own ability to follow my heart where it leads me in this life.

Do you believe in the prophet Elijah? We call him Eliyahu. I heard stories about him when I was little. He’s a great character, he always appears at strange moments, just when you’re giving up hope, just when your life is about to change, and gives you a choice, maybe a push in the right direction, maybe a twist of fate. He appears as different things, an indigent man, a donkey, whatever.

I’m reading Paolo Coelho’s The Alchemist to Liz at the moment, and we just passed the part of the story with Melchizedek, the King of Salem, who sets Santiago, the main character, on his way to his fortune. Melchizedek, means loosely in Hebrew, the King of Fortune, and his character is a pretty obvious interpretation of the mythical archetype of Eliyahu. He describes a story where he appears to a miner who, having given up everything in his life to mine for emeralds had found nothing for five years and was about to abandon the entire dream; Melchizedek appeared as a rock, which the miner, so angry at having found nothing, threw with such force against another stone that the stone it hit broke open to reveal the most beautiful emerald in the world.

I think this character, rather, I believe that this character, appears to everyone at some point(s) in their lives. People can always choose to ignore him, to walk past the indigent man on the street or not throw the stone or whatever. But I heard enough stories when I was little to always have my eyes open for him. I believe in the winds of change as well.

I had a conversation today that suddenly illuminated the ways in which I think this character has always appeared to me. I met with my program director, she just needed to sign a form for me, but she ended up being extremely rude and telling me that I had no chance of getting into the law school I wanted to because of my LSAT score and I shouldn’t even bother applying, that they wouldn’t even look at my application, she knew how it worked, and I should take her advice and not even try.

Now. My response was as follows. First I was hurt. I have a pretty good poker face as far as adults giving (bad) free advice are concerned, but it stung. Then I thought about it.  And I walked out of her office, really with a fire lit under my ass to go learn anything and everything about the fucking LSAT there is out there to learn, take it again in December, and fucking ace it so hard she’ll think I had someone take it for me.

Then I was sitting at home, thinking about how my life has gone, and why it was that I was so upset by what she said. When I was in high school, my number one choice of college was Mount Holyoke… ever since sophomore year, but I wasn’t a stellar student and I refused to take the SAT on principle… my college counselor said it was a lost cause and I didn’t stand a chance, I should apply to my state school and not waste my money on the application fee. I got pissed off, applied early decision I, and got in before anyone else in my class had gotten into college. He was so shocked when I told him he had to call the admissions director at MHC before he believed me enough to congratulate me. In college, senior year, my ex told me I didn’t have what it took to be a graduate student in the top program in the country, she said I didn’t have the strength of character to make it alone in the big city, that I wouldn’t survive a month, let alone 2 years. And here I am, a year and a half later, doing a damn fine job.

It struck me then. This is how he appears to me. Eliyahu, Melchizedek, the Lord of Fortune, appears to me not as the stone I throw in anger but as the person who tells me what I cannot do. Because it is that person who makes me go and do that thing, it’s that person who makes me want that thing even more.

And it’s true, after talking to my director today, if I didn’t want to go to law school before, damned if it’s not the only thing I want to do now.

Oh lord.  They say a picture is worth a thousand words - well here’s one that sums up my morning pretty stunningly:

fail.jpg

This involved spazzing out over accidentally sending an incomplete application to my top-choice law school, spending all morning on the phone trying fix this mistake (both with the law school’s admissions office and the LSDAS), sendinf roughly 57 faxes to New Zealand before I figured out how to work the fax machine to send the letter of recommendation form to one of my recommenders, and sending 8 spastic emails to my college mentor who finally responded with a very curt note telling me to calm the fuck down, get my shit together, and call him.

Now, of course, I’m feeling too strung out to sleep.  See photo above.


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