Funky Town

I woke up today in a funk. Honestly, I've been in funk a lot lately. I'm a moody, broody cancer, so that doesn't help, but I'm also quickly approaching several milestones in my life. Its been 15 years since I graduate high school, next year it'll be 10 years since I graduated college and more importantly, I'm rapidly approaching the end of my 10 year plan. {Full disclosure, as my ten year plan has been on my mind a lot, I actually can't remember when I gave myself ten years. Or maybe I'm trying to redefine my starting and end point so I feel like I'm still on course. Either way, I need to decide what comes next for me.} I've talked about my ten year plan before, but in short, it included a lot of volunteering, a lot of travel, and some writing. Previously, at the end of the ten years, I was supposed to be in a place (mentally and emotionally) that I would be willing (and able) to dedicate the next ten years to a project. My project. This ten year time frame (between the start and end of my plan, and the ten year commitment to my project) is what is making me now think that maybe I hadn't decided on this plan right after college, but a year later, when I finished my first year in AmeriCorps.

Let me explain. I went to Penn State for landscape architecture, and learned all about sustainable design (ok, not ALL about it, but I was introduced to it anyway) and fell in love with it. When it came time to graduate and start looking for jobs, I couldn't really find a firm that was doing the kind of work I wanted to do. Some came close, but none were really a 100% match. It was around this time that I first started to think that, hey, someday, I should just start my own firm, then no one can tell me what to do. But in the meantime, I would have to get experience somehow. This realization that I had to get experience somehow was actually what led me to landscape architecture in the first place. When I graduated high school, I didn't want to go to college. I thought it was a crock. I thought I wanted to be an artist. I thought I could teach myself all I needed to know. I still started college. But one day, while sitting outside my dorm in a tree, I realized it was a crock. Or I was a crock. Either way, college wasn't for me, not now anyway. So instead of going to classes that day, I sat in that tree and made my plan. I dropped out, and moved to Florida and started working out how I would make my living as an artist. Then, a funny thing happened. I realized I didn't want to make my living as an artist. I realized that art, specifically painting, wasn't something I wanted to be my source of income. Painting wasn't something I wanted to compromise on. It was something I wanted to use to express myself, something I wanted to keep sacred and holy in my life. I remembered how committed I had been to the idea of Peace Corps, to the concept of civic responsibility and giving back, or paying it forward. I realized I wanted to make a difference in the lives of others. And it wasn't that I didn't think art can (and does) do that, but I also wanted to learn a trade, or skills that could be used to address issues internationally. Issues like lack of access to clean water, lack of access to food, pollution and any of the other hundreds of problems that plague our world. So I re-thought college.

I eventually settled on landscape architecture because I saw it as a way to combine my interest in art, my love of the outdoors, and my passion for making a change in the world. AND, I thought it would be good training for Peace Corps. I had known for a long time I had wanted to go into Peace Corps. I had aunts and uncles that had done it, and the idea of traveling around the world to work for peace excited me. I had looked into the requirements for Peace Corps, and a major one was a college education. {Although you can get into Peace Corps without one, if you have significant enough life experience in construction} So I went back to college. Fast forward 4.5 years to graduation time. Knowing that none of the firms I currently knew about fit my passion, and Peace Corps was my reason for starting college, I started my application. For those of you that haven't done Peace Corps, the application is a BEAST. There's motivational statements, background checks, medical checks, on and on and on. As such, I hadn't really gotten very far into very fast. There was also another reason I was dragging my feet. I graduated college in 2004. At that point in time, the United States was still under the enlightened leadership of one George W. Bush, and to be quite honest, I did not want to go overseas and represent my country when I was so, so, so embarrassed by our leadership. Then, one day, an alternative was shown to me, AmeriCorps! It was great. Domestically based, AmeriCorps still carried with it (for me) all of those elements of civic responsibility, paying it forward, and working for change. Additionally, I would not have to go overseas and be embarrassed, I could stay right here and show people (I'm not sure who, actually) that even though I despised our government, I did not hate America or Americans. I'm serious. This was a huge reason I decided to do AmeriCorps first. Yes, I thought it had an age limit (not true); yes, I didn't want to be an American overseas with monkey-man the commander-in-chief; but most of all, I felt the need to prove to some unidentified masses that for all its flaws, I still loved America.

I used to be crazy patriotic in my youth. I always made sure the flag was flying on the 4^th of July, and maybe even flag day (although, I don't actually think flag day was a thing when I was younger). I loved talking politics and I sincerely believed that America was the best country in the world. All those ideals of freedom, equality, self-governance, civic duty, and social security (in the sense that we, as a nation were concerned about the welfare of the least among us) made my heart swell with pride. Even into my teens and twenties, I still loved the crap out of America, sure, we had flaws (our poor education system; the eroding of a national, civil discourse on anything; poverty; sexual and economic inequality, etc) but I still thought that we had this great idea on democracy and freedom and the great civic responsibility that comes with that democracy and freedom. So I looked toward AmeriCorps.

At that point in my life (and, really still at this point) one of my primary areas of interest, as far as career and life-passion was concerned, was brownfield redevelopment. A brownfield is basically a site that is contaminated. With chemicals, old falling down buildings, or even (as far as the EPA is concerned) the perception of contamination. Redevelopment of these sites basically means cleaning them up and putting them to new use. That is so cool to me. Not just because I come from the Rust Belt and my home town has a plethora of old derelict buildings that are cool as shit, but also because its like healing the earth. And depending on the programing for the site, you can heal the community too. The methods currently (ten years ago) used to clean up these sites mostly rely on chemical and mechanical treatment of the contaminates. A couple popular treatment methods include digging up the contaminated soil and dumping it somewhere else and isolating the contaminated soil (in concrete) and capping it. Neither of these process really clean the soil, and are really more akin to sweeping the dirt under the carpet and letting someone else deal with it. The processes that get my juices flowing are phytoremediation and bioremediation. These processes rely on natural processes to clean up the contamination. In phytoremdiation, plants are used and in bioremediation, microbes are used. This stuff is cool. Using natural processes, contaminates are either broken down, removed or detoxified. Nature!

Anyway, there I was, about to graduate, with an interest in AmeriCorps and natural remediation technologies, when I went to a bar. Whilst at said bar, I ran into a former TA. We talked a little about my post-graduation plans, and she informed me that her sister was an AmeriCorps member working on the AMD&Art project in Vintondale, Pa. I immediately (or the next day) ran home and applied for the position. It was amazing. The AMD&Art project was a cross-disciplinary project designed to treat acid mine drainage and assist in community development, while using art! (AMD- acid mine drainage) It was a cool project. It converted a site which had previously been an entrance into a mine and a coke factory (coal coke, not coke the drink) into a community park/natural amd remediation treatment system. The park itself had been designed by a time consisting of a historian, an artist, a landscape architect and a biologist. It was groundbreaking, it was inspiring, and it was not yet done. My job was to keep the site maintained and finish the last remaining elements of the park. At the time I started as an AmeriCorps member, it had been about ten years since the project had been started. And there you have it, my reasoning for thinking that it would take me ten years to complete my project. Why I gave myself ten years to be ready? Not quite sure. Maybe it was an age thing. Maybe its just because ten is just nice and round. Who knows.

Regardless, those ten years are almost up. If I gave myself ten years after graduating, they're up next year. If I gave myself ten years after that first year in AmeriCorps, I have till 2015. Either way, the deadline is approaching. And I don't really feel any more ready to commit than I did 9, 8, 7 (whatever) years ago. Why not? I've been asking myself this a lot lately. I've come up with some reasons why I may not be ready yet. And in no particular order, here they are:

1. I don't know where I want to do it.

For a long time, I had imagined that I would go back to my hometown and redevelop one of the many, many old industrial sites. Its where I'm from, so that's the place I understand the best (my thinking went). Its where I'm from, so you know, think globally, act locally. Its where I'm from, and you gotta give back to your home. But I've realized something over the years. I kinda hate the place I'm from. Its not just because I have bad associations with it (high school), or the lack of culture (my project would address that), or the idiocy of the local government (they keep tearing down those old buildings I love so much); its that I don't like the climate. The sun hardly shines, in the winter the sky is never blue, it snows A LOT, and when it doesn't snow, its nipple piercingly cold. In short, it depressed the HELL out of me. I don't know if you know what its like to live in a place where the sun never shines (not because its not out, but because there is a permanent cloud layer) but it SUCKS. While I still use my parent's address as my permanent address, I haven't lived there for more than a handful of months at a time in years. And (sorry) the thought of doing so fills me with darkness and dread.

For as much as I dread the thought of going back to my hometown, I don't have the connection to anywhere else that this kind of project kinda requires. And neither have I found a place that I want to commit to. Sure, I've lived some other places I've loved, but sitting here now, I can't really think of one that is calling to me. I mean, sure some are calling me to come live there, but not commit the next ten years of my life to.

2. I haven't found anyone to do it with.

The nature of my idea is such that its not something I can accomplish on my own. Its probably going to take a lot of consultants and community volunteers and all that crap, but I've also always kinda thought I would be doing it with a partner. A business partner, a life partner, a mixture of the two; someone that understood and shared my vision and wanted to work with me to achieve it. For a long time, I thought this someone would be the business brains behind it. Some one that understood financing and liked doing that kind of shit. Which would leave me to be the design brains behind it. But, realizing my grasp of financing and that crap has been lacking, I've been working on improving my skillz in that area. The reality of it now, is that I'm actually probably pretty well balanced as far as the different areas of expertise needed go. Sure, I'm not really an expert in any one aspect, but I'm pretty well versed in most of them. Or at least well enough to know what I know and what I don't know. Well enough to know when to look for outside help and well enough to know where to look to find it.

3. I'm not at the end of the ten years yet.

This is probably the lamest of lame excuses. In addition to it not being at the end of ten years, I've also tried the “at the end of the ten years, I had just imagined that I would be ready to start. Not have it started”. Both ring particularity hollow and smack of procrastination.

4. I'm not sure I want to do it any more.

I first started having this issue when I was in the Peace Corps. After two years of AmeriCorps, a year of unemployment (and volunteering) in Portland, OR, and a series of jobs I didn't stay at for more than a year; I just wasn't sure this project was my life-goal any more. Maybe I had made the wrong decision all those years ago. Maybe I did want to be an artist, maybe I was done giving back and paying it forward. Maybe it was time to focus on me. Maybe I did just want to spend my life working internationally, not staying any where for more than a handful of years. Maybe all these ideas of community change, community empowerment, and ecological justice didn't really mean anything to me any more. Maybe people are right, you can't change the world. Maybe we've already fucked shit up so much that there is no turning back, no way to return from the brink of collapse. Maybe I don't really give a shit if humanity drives itself off that ledge and into the abyss. Maybe, more importantly, I don't really believe I can make a change, that I can do anything that makes a difference, that I can see a project like this through.

1. 5. I'm not ready to be back in America.

But one of the big reasons I don't feel like I'm ready is because I don't feel like I'm done, internationally. For almost as long as I've wanted to do Peace Corps, I had a big, multi-country trip planned for post-Peace Corps. India, Nepal, Turkey, Germany, Poland, Brittany (in France) and Ireland were all places I wanted to go. Maybe I would have hit them all, maybe not. Maybe I would have added more countries on the way, maybe not. But I knew I at least wanted to go to most of them. The problem is, I never went on that trip. Before I finished Peace Corps, when I was planning on doing a third year in Peace Corps, I met someone, and fell in love. Pretty hard. Pretty quick. And instead of listening to my inner guide, I listened to my heart. And my heart wanted to throw caution into the wind, and run to be with this person. My heart thought she was the one, the one I would be with for the rest of my life. The one I would do my project with, the one I would travel around the world with. My inner guide (and some friends) tried to tell me that I had to stay on track with my plan, do my third year of Peace Corps, go on my trip, etc. My inner guide tried to tell me that if it was real, she would understand, that she would still be there when I got done with what I needed to do. My heart said it didn't matter, that I had to be with her now, because what if something happened to her and I didn't have as much time with her as I thought? But maybe my heart knew the real truth. That she probably wouldn't have understood, that she probably wouldn't still be there for me when I got done with what I needed to do. Either way, I changed my plans and moved back to the States to be with her. So, what happened you may ask? Its not really any of your business I may say. But the long and the short of it is that my inner guide finally got through to me.

So what's next? My ten year plan is almost up and I don't feel any more ready for committing to a huge project. I'm exploring some options, a job in Laos, the UN volunteer program and Peace Corps Response. Not sure where I'm going to end up next, but I do know this; I'm going to work on listening to that inner guide more.