I passed! I passed!

(The cohort, jumping for joy right after the tested ended.)

I passed my comprehensive exams, and that means I am almost officially done with my masters degree! I am relieved, excited, and exhausted just thinking back on that horrible, horrible test day back in early June.

Classes ended in May and we had a week and a half to study for the exam. All year people had been telling us that we should start studying early, but that was impossible while trying to finish 4th term classes, plan our MHS presentation requirements, arrange our practicums, etc.

A few of us formed a group for some hard-core studying the week of the test. We loaded up on Trader Joes snacks and spent some 10 hour days going through our courses, quizzing each other with the questions we just KNEW would be asked, and trying to calculate the probability that we would actually fail (low, I insisted).

The test itself was from 8:30am until 6pm, with a calculations/ short answer portion followed by two long essays. We got there early to get good computers in the back row of the lab, loaded with snacks and well wishes, our bodies tense from stress. To fail meant having to return to Baltimore to take it again in six months, not to mention the embarrassment.

Despite the fact that my group had emphasized the exact wrong things and the calculation questions were structured in ways we had never seen, I managed to improvise some answers for the first half of the test. I started on the first essay, and had spent almost 2 hours on it when my computer froze. “No big deal,” I thought, “I’ll just go down to the IT guys and have them help me.” The IT guys were busy, so I went to the proctor’s office to let him know that my computer was frozen. He didn’t seem to understand why I was there. “So…I’m just hoping I don’t lose the essay.” He replied, “Yeah, me too.” Thanks for your help.

After about 15 minutes (of precious test time) the IT guy came to the computer lab. He played around for a minute, then came to his conclusion.

“The computer is frozen and you will lose the document.”
“Isn’t there the chance the computer will recover it?”
“No. Not on these computers.”
“Is there anything you can do?”
“No. How much have you done?”
“Uh… a lot? What do you mean?”
“HOW MUCH HAVE YOU DONE?” This guy talked so loud, at this point everyone in the lab was aware of what was happening. I felt people looking at me, watching how I would react to this news. Mieko handed me her iPhone so I could take a picture of the screen, and other people asked how they could help. I stood against the back wall, trying really hard not to cry.

“I’ll restart the computer.”
“Okay,” I replied shakily.
“Here is the document. Some of it is recovered.”
“Okay. Thanks.” This guy had played with my emotions too much, and I left the room to go cry in the bathroom.

I finished the test and submitted it with 4 minutes to spare. Then we headed to a restaurant for a stiff drink.

Things I'll miss about Baltimore #5

(Thursday night potluck group with Marley, the precious pup, in front.)

Our church "framily" (friends-family combined) at the Gallery Church. I felt so comfortable there that on my second Sunday I was introducing myself to new people like I had been going forever. This church is loving people like Christians were meant to love and we were blessed to be a part of it, even if just for a short time.

Things I'll miss about Baltimore #4

Murals in unexpected places.

Summer!

Done with school. Done with Baltimore. On to the next. Road trip back to CA starts today!

Comps. Bleh.

Studying for comps is a lot less terrible when done here. (It is just a 30 second walk from my house! Why have I not studied here all year?!)

Things I'll miss about Baltimore #3

Playing Catan with these crazies.

Things I'll miss about Baltimore #2

Our monument. It was beautiful keeping watch over the silent, snowy streets of winter, and it is beautiful now under the heavy air of summer.

Things I'll miss about Baltimore #1

Little Italy and the best dessert restaurant, Vaccaro's. Our first weekend in Baltimore we wandered over for dinner, passing a group of men playing bocce ball and a large crowd of families who had gathered to watch Roman Holiday on a warm summer night. A little old man projects the movies from his window while people watch on blankets and in lawn chairs, eating pizza and drinking red wine. Doesn't get any cuter than that.

Hollywood Diner

When I told my dad we were moving to Baltimore, one of the first things he said was, "You have to watch the movie Diner." So, with less than 2 weeks before we move, we finally watched and realized that the diner itself is right around the corner from our house. We made like Mickey Rourke and Paul Reiser and headed over there for breakfast, milkshakes, and sugar directly from the jar.

Marek's visit

The walk to school

Sometimes I ignore the shuttle stop and walk to school instead. I head down the hill of my street and under the freeway overpass that marks the separation between Mt. Vernon and East Baltimore.

On the left is a jail with tall brick walls topped with barbed wire. A few men in jump suits walk out of the building, single file, pushing laundry carts. They disappear through a door and are gone. A middle-aged man on the sidewalk stumbles as he tries to maintain balance. He stares at the ground, wide eyed, as if he has no idea where he is or why. He is tripping on something strong and he doesn't even notice as I walk by.

An old lady stands at the bus stop in a turquoise dress suit with a hot pink cowboy hat. I smile and she stares straight ahead. On the left is a tree-lined field where young mothers push their babies in strollers and boys play football. I pass the Old Town Flava Barber Shop on the right and a large group of men sitting at the edge of the field. They are always there, no matter the time of day. Around the corner there is a street of homes that has been blocked off to cars. A tiny girl in braids sits on her gray stone stoop, lollipop in hand. A young man with quick eyes stands on the corner and points at the ground repeatedly. I think he is working with a drug dealer and I walk faster. He moves away when he sees me and I imagine what it would be like to be an undercover cop. (Scary, I decide.)

Pieces of paper litter the sidewalk and a plastic bag floats by and lands in the gutter, deflated. I pass a church and a few old women exit the front doors. They wear wide-brimmed hats and flowered dresses over their short bodies, and they smile as I pass. An older man in a hat and vest sits on a bench in the shade and smokes a cigarette. I smile and he says, "Have a nice day, baby."

I come upon a school where a group of young boys play basketball on a court with chain link walls and trash piled in the corners. Little ones run and scream on the playground, dressed in yellow and maroon school uniforms and hair twisted in ties all over their heads. A boy, standing at the top of the slide, waves and yells, "Hi!" I wave back. He waves again, so I wave again. I wonder if he has parents who love him and whether he will go to college. Suddenly, a helicopter appears overhead and I look to see if it belongs to the police or the hospital.

I cross the intersection and the neighborhood changes. The noise picks up and more and more people are about. A security guard sits in a booth, looking up and down the street as nothing interesting happens. Large buildings appear on either side of me, their names taken from old men with lots of money. People in suits and scrubs walk past a street vendor selling candy and soda. Important people walk quickly by because they have important things to be doing.

After just 20 minutes, I arrive at my building. I put on my badge and walk through the glass doors. I sit through lectures about HIV/AIDS, health equality and community participation. We talk about reaching the marginalized and saving lives. Then we pack up our bags and go home, walking right past the woman with HIV and the addict in the corner, all the while dreaming about when we will be able to put our knowledge to practice.

Reasons I'm sad to leave school

These faces.

East Coast childhood

While my family was here, we visited the childhood home of my mom's friend. The brick mansion sits on a cliff overlooking a river right outside of Baltimore. To get to the river you walk past secret gardens and through pink blossoms to the boat house where kids spend the summer catching crabs off the dock. How East Coast is that?

Baltimore tulips

All found within a block of my house! Thank you, Spring!

Yet time continued to pass

Today was rough. Something happened that I haven't been able to get out of my head, and just writing about it makes my heart race.

I was running by the harbor and ahead of me I saw a family walking down the sidewalk. They looked liked tourists with their hats and cameras. The teenage son said something to the mom and she laughed in response. Then, just as I was about to pass, something happened. The mom answered her phone, and within seconds she began to sob hysterically and collapsed to the grass. The dad told the boys to sit down and the mom held the phone to her ear while she let out high pitched, painful sobs. It was the kind of noise you never want to hear. It was the kind that is inside of all of us, just waiting for a time to come out. I wondered what the bad news was. I wondered if the family would be okay. What would they do next? Where would they go?

And then I kept running. I looked back at the family sitting on the grass, knowing they were beginning a time of devastation and grief. But, within minutes they were out of sight. For me, nothing had changed. The sun did not stop shining. Time continued to pass. My legs kept going.

Easter in Annapolis

After church, we spent a lovely Easter day in Annapolis with our friends Lexi and Josh. They showed us around the town and then we had a 4-course Easter dinner with Lexi's family and neighbors. Picture old women sitting around a table saying hilarious and embarrassing things like, "That boy sure knows how to please a lady." It was great.

Like heart-longings

Ah! it is not for you to open the bud into a blossom.
He who can open the bud does it so simply.
He gives it a glance, and the life-sap stirs through its veins.
At his breath the flower spreads its wings and flutters in the wind.
Colours flush out like heart-longings,
The perfume betrays a sweet secret.
He who can open the bud does it so simply.
Fruit-Gathering, Rabindranath Tagore