They wanted to sit outside in the sunshine, so as we walked around the corner I heard myself saying “There are tables around . . . .” Well, there were tables around that corner.
22 years ago.
On Tuesday I walked through a door to a building I had never been in. I had no real idea what went on in that building. I knew it was old, I knew that it had offices. I knew it was one of the most beautiful buildings on campus. It’s where my new department is located.
You see, when I stepped on to the campus in 1997, I thought I had life figured out. I thought I knew at the ripe old age of 18 that I knew where life would take me. And here I am 22 years later, and nothing is like what I thought it would be.
My final assignment in this week of grad school introduction was to make a map. Not just a place that plots latitude and longitude in space. Something that evokes the idea of time and memory, that which jolts us out of the commonplace and makes us thing differently.
That’s been my entire week.
You asked how my week was. Exhilarating. Hard, balancing school and work. Challenging to write a python which scrapped twitter and build a new set of visualizations in Tableau in just a few hours. Amazing.
One of the things my team added into the map was a photo of me in front of the very first lecture hall I walked into 22 years ago. In 1997, I was dripping wet from rain, 10 minutes late because I was lost and utterly overwhelmed.
For the edification of my readers, I’ve given you a photo that was taken in late June of 1997. And the photo from today. You’d think I’d like the photo of younger me. It turns on I like the one of me now better. On Tuesday, she walked through a door and came home.