Writing Rituals

Anyone else have work/writing rituals? Like all those obsessive-compulsive things you have to get done before you can dive into your work (or keep you from procrastinating, such as writing this post)? For me, they are:

-I need to put on Chapstick (my lips are always, always dry)
-Put on lotion (again, it may be the weather here, but then I’ll keep looking at my hands on my computer and obsess over their dryness)
-Fill up bottle of water- so that I don’t get the urge to suddenly get up when I’m in the middle of some “profound" thought or quote
-Plug the computer (so that I don’t think about where I need to plug later)
-Check FB (yes, I sure do) 
-Put on/take off scarf 
-Go on Pandora radio station (usually John Coltrane or Mal Waldron)

Then…ok, WERK! 

It's Just Been Too Long...

...to catch up and try to summarize what an amazing first semester I had in grad school and what a fantastically unproductive winter break I had. Instead, I'll just move forward with attempting to write with more consistency. I'm sure this blog will evolve, as my writing and thoughts will, but for now, this is a space is where I ramble and think "aloud/publicly" about where I am with my research, ideas, goals, evolving identity as a student/practitioner/scholar/student, any gripes (in of course, the most courteous and political polite way- I am in graduate school, after all!).

La vida cotidiana of a Chicana in grad school. 

First Week Complejos

So, I'm thinking the honeymoon stage is slowly waning. I no longer swoon at the list of readings for my courses or get excited by the list of response topic essays I have to write. Why? Because now I'm actually doing it (as opposed to romanticizing the idea of reading for endless hours at a coffee shop). I've finally come to the realization that yes Rocio, you gotta sit your ass down for hours and wrestle with the readings. I need to recall those days when I was getting my master's degree - did all those papers and did that thesis write itself out? No, they did not (but the abundance and options for coffee shops in Seattle sure did help). A classmate earlier this week suggested that I just needed to go back to the old master's degree routine to get back into the readings and writing. Not so easy. I was in a completely different environment, and I was in a completely different place (not to mention I was not recovering from a crazy summer of what I'll only refer to as "work"). Fresh from undergrad and with the amount of schoolwork I did at the tail end of my bachelor's degree, the transition to graduate school (academically) wasn't that difficult. This time around, I'm definitely finding a much more difficult time to concentrate.

Great. As I'm writing this, I can start hearing my inner voice calming my ass down. Sure, I haven't needed to read or write anything academic for years, and before last week, I considered staying up past 11:00 pm on a weekday a crazy night of desvelada. Y ni modo. I'm not going to beat myself up for not being able to be as disciplined or focused as I was a five years ago. Why? Because it's the first week of school. And because five years ago I also hadn't hiked up a mountain alone in Japan and wrestled with my demons (not implying that I'm done wrestling with them); I hadn't gone to India and experienced a meditative state so deep that emotional pains manifested into physical ones. I hadn't worked with first generation Mexican and Central American parents who always reminded me of my own, I hadn't had those surges of immense satisfaction and empowerment after working with parents and thinking, "this is the information I wish someone would have shared with my parents, and here I am being able to share with other families". I hadn't challenged high school students (who many reminded me of myself at their age) to expect more from their schools, and from themselves. I hadn't experienced what it was like to be challenged, and to professionally and personally grow alongside students and staff. I hadn't experienced life in this way. And sure, while these experiences probably won't directly help much in analyzing Bordieu's theories of social capital, it will remind me that this academic world isn't the be-all and end-all of my identity.

So, ok, fine. I'm rusty with reading and synthesizing dense (and sometimes boring) academic material and I take even longer because I need to look up the definition and pronunciation of every other word (did I mention English was my second language?) on dictionary.com. Who cares? Sometimes only focusing on the work that's in front of us can be daunting and perhaps detrimental if we don't also pause and reflect and look back at what we've already done/walked/accomplished in life (and I'm not talking about anything remotely academic) - and that maybe - just maybe, we had to go through these experiences to be ready (beyond the academic skill level) to start up school again.

Listening to the student introductions this week in class reminded me of one of the aspects of the program I appreciate so far- the variety of work and life experiences of my classmates. So far, I appreciate that everyone seems friendly, open, and honest about their skill level and willing to learn with and from each other.

Five Years

Damn. I am finishing up Cheryl Strayed's book, The Wild, and of course I cannot help but to think of the UW Bonderman Trip. Five years ago this month marks the anniversary of when I departed on a 10-month solo backpacking trip around the world starting with a one-way flight to Tokyo from LAX. Hobbling my way through LAX with an incredibly heavy-ass pack on my back, I couldn't have imagined just how transformative and influential that experience would be on my life at that moment. In many ways, I continue to land from this journey with an attempt to understand this world and my place in it...and here I am again, five years later, about to jump off onto yet another journey - el doctorado. Tomorrow is my first day of class as a PhD student in the School of Education at Claremont Graduate University. The commencement of this new journey and my reflective state motivated me to start up this part of the blog again to publicly document some parts of this process as a graduate student. I anticipate this blog evolving in topics so, I'm not making any more promises on this description beyond this for now. And here we go...

You and India

from Rocio Mendoza
reply-to rociom@u.washington.edu
to ---------bluewin.ch
date Sun, Aug 23, 2009 at 10:46 PM
subject Hi Astrid!
mailed-by gmail.com


Hi Astrid! How are you? Are you back home yet? How are you feeling? How was your trip to the states? I hope you had a great time and that you met good people out here. If I'm not mistaken, you are probably starting school soon, somewhere in Germany? I don't quite recall. How does it feel to be home (if you are back home)? I returned in July and I have been enjoying my time at home with my family. I am in the process of looking for a job and in the meantime writing and making photo albums. I just finished watching The Namesake- have you heard of this movie? It is about a Bengali family from India living in the US and the meaningful story behind a name. It was a very touching story and of course it brought me back to India- despite the nightmare scams, I loved India- the people, the food and the amazing life-altering experiences I lived there.

I remember even the way we met was pretty serendipitous. We met at the Taj Hotel (or something like that) in Agra. It was probably the best hotel we had stayed in the past two weeks- and way out of our budget. We were there because we were both on scam package trips, although neither one of us mentioned it at the time (but we had a good laugh sharing it a few days later). I remember you were busy looking something up online and we didn't get to say goodbye (much less talk about our next destination). An overnight train later, we somehow met again at the Tourist Information Office in Varanasi. I had already picked up the tourist info map and was on my way out. I asked if you wanted to join me in looking for a hostel and you said yes. I'll never forget our cycle rickshaw ride through the traffic (with autorickshaws, goats, cows, cars and motorcyles also sharing the road with us) and how I fell out of my seat and onto the dirt road in the middle of the traffic to pick up my backpack that I never had a grip on since we got on. I remember how we were cracking up at the whole situation- imagine some backpacker falling off the cycle rickshaw looking like a total fool! But I also remember laughing joyfully because I was sharing that moment with someone. There was simply never a dull moment in India. I also remembered our sigh of relief when we actually made it to the hostel (after those recent experiences, we were just happy to have the ultimate say in our directions). The more I think of it, the more vivid all those memories become; it's nice to remember where I've been and to be happy of where I am now. I thought of you and wondered where and how you have been these days. Te mando un saludo and I hope you are well and in good spirits.

Warm regards,

Rocio