Traveling Insights: An Inside Perspective

It's December 29th, just days away from the end of 2019, and I don't feel as though I've properly recapped some of the most important moments of the year since September. Returning to Kansas last week, and being open to what the experience might bring, allowed me to return feeling energized for the future. I am quite excited to share what I've been up to and what's on the docket for 2020! This fall I was working three jobs. I served as the Action Team lead for the Metro Food Access Network 's Transportation Action Team, worked as a Research Assistant for North Circle Seeds through the Center for Urban and Regional Affairs at the University of Minnesota, and maintained my position as Social Media Strategist and Thought Partner with Voices for Rural Resilience. Not only did I expand my network, but I had lots of time to reflect on who I am as a person and how to distinguish my brand as a person from those around me through my participation in the Integrated Foo

You may not be one now. But you probably know an older adult. What makes them 'older'? Is there a certain threshold? I wouldn't think there should be, but by most Federal standards 65 seems to be the number that sticks. As we age our bodies change. The processes of renewal slow, our minds begin to wander, and sometimes the abilities of our neurons to connect fail to fire in the way they used to. I've had the honor and privilege to spend countless hours with older adults, starting when I was 17 and picked up a gig serving at the retirement home near my high school. I was brave enough to stick it out, even after all the times I brought out the wrong order, or skipped a table on accident. The seven years I spent at Meadowlark Estates were some of the most fruitful years of my life because I never felt like I had a shortage of family support. Over servings of oatmeal, shepherd's pie, and sugar-free vanilla ice cream, I got to know those residents better than mos

It's been ten days since I returned from my trip home to Kansas. Ten days that have felt like ten weeks. I'm not sure if it's because of dramatic events at home, the start of classes, or the beginning of a beautiful new friendship, but I was reminded today of the importance of writing, even if only for myself. I'm done worrying about if what I say is right or politically correct or polished. I'm starting to notice that the more raw we are with each other the more likely the relationship will last. The gratitude that I feel for all the places and people in my life are kind of overwhelming at this moment in time. Over the coming weeks I hope to highlight the value of these relationships and how they've gotten me to where I am today, but for now, it's worth recapping one of the most emotional weeks of the year and what you have to gain from making time for people that matter. My time back in Lawrence began to fill in pieces of the puzzle what home is,

Sometimes you forget about the things you've thought. Or you don't realize how powerful the thoughts were until you've read them again. It's kind of like looking through old photos, and being reminded of the perspective that you had about the landscape around you, the memories you were making. There's huge value in re-reading what you've written, especially when it's been months since you wrote. My offering to you today is a single piece of advice: Re-read what you've written. You could get by skipping the rest of this and walking away right now, but you might miss some key reasons why the act of re-reading is so important. 5 reasons why you should re-read your personal journal 1. You will remind yourself of the things that you love and might have let fall to the way side Re-reading a passage that I wrote back in February while traveling for a wedding, I forgot that I had written about wanting to not live in a city. "...living in a rur

Let's face it. People are complicated. And just when you think you've got someone figured out, they tell you something new that you never would have expected. Most people don't believe me when I tell them I'm bi-racial. Except that's never the term I've used to describe myself--until now. Growing up, I always told people I was half Mexican. Bi-racial wasn't even in my vocabulary. Neither was second-generation immigrant, which is also technically true. But growing up in a primarily White household with White extended family, the only thing I knew of my Mexican heritage came from the authentic tamales de puerco my mom would make for dinner, chiles rellenos that she ordered at restaurants, and a handful of other dishes that didn't quite fit in with the rest of our very American diet. If you're reading mom, I really do miss your cooking. You will forever be the chef I hope to one day impress with my own culinary concoctions. Arroz con gandules

The writing continues. In my last blog post I wrote about one of the first trips in 3 years that I actually spent money on (gasp!) instead of spending someone else's through scholarships, crowdfunding, and the like. My life escapades continue in Minnesota, with a renewed vigor now that the chaos of academic life is in the dust--at least for the next few months. As my iCloud drive fills up and I am forced to delete old files to free up space, I came across a somewhat frightening realization of why my first semester in grad school might have been so draining. Yep, you counted right. Thirteen folders dedicated to job applications. As if grappling with a new city weren't enough, I was constantly in a process of searching for a good-paying job, which resulted in the overwhelming set of folders pictured above. Thirteen, in fact, each dedicated to a different job application. One thing I will say--the experience helped me tremendously with writing cover letters, which I now

The Puget Sound on a blissfully cloudy day 2019 marks time in three years that I spent money on travel that wasn't related to work or school. Since 2013 I've been keeping this travel blog as a way to share with others my adventures and, more recently, tips and tricks on how to travel on other people's dimes. Today's post is about showing support for those you love by being there for them during one of the most defining moments of their lives. No, I'm not talking about graduating from high school, moving out of the country, or losing your virginity. I'm talking about the sacred, somewhat strange ritual we humans like to call marriage. I can say this having spent the last few months working for a catering company whose business is comprised mostly of weddings; 70 percent, in fact. Weddings are fascinating microcosms of culture. You can tell so much by a couple based on who attends, how much they drink (if alcohol is served at all), what kind of music

If you're anything like me, some weeks you wake up on Tuesday and already feel like you've lost control of the week. Deadlines come and go and you didn't even have it written down somewhere. You're going going going and can't remember the last time you took a moment to breathe. About half-way through last semester I decided to take control of the scatter-brained, willy nilly weeks I was having by creating a checklist that would keep me grounded. What motivated me to do this? I'd forgotten about assignments and showed up to class not having done the readings more often than I would like to admit, which is very unlike me. Plus, I realized that unless I actually schedule time to sleep or do fun things, they don't happen. Or they do happen, but at the expense of my productivity or deadlines for school and work. What developed out of this desire to have a system in place to keep my mental stability in check became my Sunday Wellness Check-In. Call it what

My last post written about the overview of this blog was originally drafted in February. It's quite remarkable for me to think about how much has happened since then and what the future months (and years) hold. My work interning with Voices for Rural Resilience is hands-down one of the best decisions I could have made this semester to maintain my mental stability and seek to build my network outside of the classroom. I reflected the other day on why I am not attracted to joining any clubs on campus and instead chose to put my efforts into serving as a board member of the Seward Neighborhood Group. Return on investment in relationships was a big driver. For some reason I feel like network that I can build through the community I live in, versus the one associated with the University, is much more powerful. Maybe it just comes back to this inclination I have towards working with older people. I've noticed that I don't go to hardly any of the social activities organized b

I take a deep breath after ringing my neighbor’s doorbell. The weight of my book bag pulls on my shoulders, filled with a rather odd assortment of produce this time around: a carrot, a potato, and half an onion. The shape of the leather bag in my hands feels abnormally unwieldy. How many others have gone through this mental battle with themselves, wanting to flee the scene before the process has even started, I ask myself. My trajectory leading up to this moment feels like a whirlwind, considering this is my fourth week on the job. Back track to mid-December. My hours in catering are pretty much zero, I’m working a few hours as an intern for a startup which gives me hope for the future, but it’s certainly not going to allow me to put anything in savings. I’m recalling the last conversation with my parents, tears streaming down my face as I try to explain why taking out a loan to cover my living expenses is in the best interest of my mental health. The monetary str