Finally, a curve in the road. I could finally see what lie ahead of me instead of staring into the back end of a maroon Toyota Scion. Brake lights on, brake lights off, brake lights on - sustained for about 7 seconds - brake lights off, brake lights flicker and blink momentarily - inch by inch we crawl forward.
The bend in the road allowed me to see the snaking traffic as it coiled and slithered its way around the lanes of the freeway as they divided off into various directions - casting cars off to where? Home? Evening jobs? The gym? Out with friends? To nowhere? Perhaps ust to more road to travel for many purposes, or no purpose at all.
In a sea of taillights reaching - stretching - further than I could see, I let myself zone out into the music that coursed through the interior of my car. It allowed for a dissociative kind of retreat from the back of the Scion and the countless red lights sometimes swelling in luminosity - brake lights off, brake lights on, etc. The ambient tones of the music and the rumbling pacing beat of the bass offered a much welcomed auditory massage. I hate rush hour traffic.
As I was rounding the bend where 35W winds its way down to 94W, I remember glancing over at the Minneapolis skyline. The steam that rose from various buildings created a low lying cloud of sorts that blocked out the bottoms of the skyscrapers. It was a floating city, hovering silently next to the noise, the buzz, the sloppiness, and the impatience of rush hour traffic. My music seemed a fitting soundtrack to this floating city. The juxtaposition both visually and emotionally was alarming and jolting, yet, in that moment, it fit. It made sense. The effect seemed natural and familiar. The mismatch was one that only a smack back into reality could demolish. Otherwise, I am fairly certain I would have lived the rest of my life thinking Minneapolis was a floating city and the traffic was the sea of red that churned and coursed below its surface.
I was on my way to meet a friend I hadnt seen in some time. I was late. Only finding relief in that brief moment I glanced over at the skyline, I was annoyed by the traffic, my dirty windshield from the road spray, and the slower-than-snail's-pace that we were crawling. As my eyes shifted from the buildings back to the road, my phone rang. I answered. What happened next would mark one of the hugest significant changes in my life.
For the past several months I had been working extremely hard applying to PhD programs. This included taking the much dreaded GRE. In not a whole lot of time I dedicated my life it seems to writing personal statements, revising writing samples, filling out applications and dealing with frustrating technicalities, and gathering letters of recommendation. I shed more tears than I wanted to studying for the GRE. I wore out my brain and I wore out my body. I have been waiting for the last month to hear whether or not I would get into a program. I met with faculty in the departments I applied to. I still have more meetings yet to come. I researched and gathered as much information as possible. Most of all, I sent out as much positivity and hope to the Universe where I truly felt a door was open for me. If I was good enough, and this was really my time, I would be allowed to walk through.
Tonight around 6 o'clock, stuck in rush hour, and existing in a moment of surrealism, staring at the floating city wandering off into my music, and reality, watching in agonizing frustration the back of that Scion, I got a call. My primary application reviewer was on the other line. In all of the words he shared with me of my acceptance into the Family Social Science PhD program, all I remember are the following: "We all think you're terrific" and "We hope you will choose Family Social Science." There was something about February 19th, which I think is the welcome retreat and more about a letter I should be receiving in the near future.
My body was so overcome by excitement and joy. This acceptance means far more to me than just furthering my academic and professional pursuits. It signifies the beginnings of a new beginning. It's a prominent mark in my life journey and I honestly believe it is the Universe giving me an opportunity to begin - begin so many things. In those few minutes after the call, I traveled to the furthest quadrants of the world! I traveled back through almost 33 years of life and back again. The only thing keeping me in one piece was my seatbelt! If I didnt think I would cause the death of innocent drivers or even myself, I would have thrown on the emergency break, jumped out of my car, and sprinted through the lanes of traffic pounding on hoods, screaming, laughing, and crying. With my heart pounding, my body literally vibrating, my face numb, an ear to ear smile, and tears in my eyes, the phone calls rolled out.
2010 ended with a bang. 2011 has begun with an explosion! I still wait to hear from the School of Social Work about whether or not they will accept me into their PhD program. I should hear sometime in March. For the time being, I for sure know I have the option and opportunity to begin my studies in Family Social Science focusing on adoption research and the intersections of racial, ethnic, and cultural identities and GLBTQ identities. I am beyond excited to embark on this new adventure. Thank you to everyone who supported me and helped me in various ways. Thank you especially to those who had to put up with me during the process when I wasnt the most pleasant to be around. Your belief in me and encouragement has meant so much - much more than a thank you could ever convey. For now a thank you is what I have. Perhaps if I studied my GRE vocabulary more I would have a better selection of appreciative sentiments!
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