Mitchell Scholar Blogs

After a year and a half of global uncertainty, it’s been a joyful experience getting back into a routine that involves places and people outside of my own home. During my first two months here, I’ve found comfort in the ability to return to a life of balancing friends, school, and travel. Let me take you through an average day in the life of this Belfast(er).

The British friends I’ve made have taught me an important lesson: the best way to start your day is with Greggs (a breakfast/lunch restaurant scattered across the UK). On busier mornings, I will stop by to grab some hot chocolate and a donut (or as they call it, a “yum yum”) before heading onto campus for class.

Having never lived in a city before, the walkability of Belfast has quickly become one of my favorite things about it. After class, I’ll often take a few steps off campus to immerse myself back into the homey, forested feeling of Botanic Park. Whether I’m walking through the rose garden or along the hidden creek, the thick layer of trees is a welcome buffer from the busy streets. On longer days, I’ll take the walk along the Lagan river to a natural forested area in the south of the city.

Emerging from one of Belfast’s many forested respites, I might stop to grab lunch with a friend at Maggie May’s Café and try the soup of the day. Other days, I’ll make the short walk to city center and grab some local produce to support a week of broccoli, mushroom, and kale themed dinners.

A few hours of class later, I’m ready to start a variety of evening activities. Some days I’ll catch the bus to join the Queen’s ladies soccer practice or stop by the rock wall to join the mountaineering club. Other nights, my fellow QUB Mitchell crew members and I will try out a new restaurant around town.

The day usually ends in my cozy room, painting Russian nesting dolls and knitting with a cup of tea. Weekends may entail a trip to St. George’s market (an open air market near city centre) or a day trip to one of Northern Ireland’s varied, natural spots.

On days I have no plans, I plug in my headphones and choose a new direction to walk in. On these long, winding strolls I have found a quiet appreciation of what life must be like for a typical Belfaster. Kids in school uniforms pass me on the sidewalk, pub music unfurls out into the street, and families return home to rows of identical, red brick houses. I often feel most at home in the city on the days that I take time to get a little lost along the streets. This pandemic is certainly not over, and I feel incredibly grateful for the ability to venture out into this new city, and enjoy how my own routine intersects with the paths of many others in Belfast. 

Before arriving in Ireland, I had an immense feeling of anxiety. I had a lot of uncertainty ahead of me. I would arrive on August 31st, but my directing program at the Lir wouldn’t start until November 8th. I had no idea what the COVID restrictions would look like in Ireland. Most of all, I wondered if being a Black American woman in Dublin would be like having a target on my back at all times. Nonetheless, when I finally arrived, I received a generous and deeply warm welcome from the people, places, and experiences of Ireland. 

In the past two months, I have been using this expansive free time to learn about myself personally and artistically. I’ve been really lucky to have been able to see ten theatrical productions in the greater Dublin area through the Dublin Fringe Festival and the Dublin Theatre Festival. In doing so, I’ve fallen in love with absurdist traditions in theatre and film, especially related to understanding concepts of identity in the wake of colonialism. Additionally, I’ve spent a lot of time trying to get better acquainted with the natural beauty of Ireland, and have found a very unexpected love for hiking (I use this term VERY loosely). I’ve been taking a lot of solo adventures to the Papal Cross in Phoenix Park, which I believe is the one place where I always feel like praying. I’ve also gotten very good at cooking southern food without southern ingredients, just to keep a little bit of home with me in this new landscape (polenta is a great substitute for grits, by the way).

Most excitingly, I have found myself extremely inspired by everything I see during my travels. In an effort to make a scrapbook for visuals that have most inspired me, I have been taking 15 to 20 second videos of my surroundings during each adventure. I feel that these videos can be perfect references as I return to creating theatre and films. Below, I’ve created a video collage of my experiences in Ireland, soundtracked to a song that I feel has reflected much of my experience so far. 

Sending blessings and good energy to all who read this!

-Joy

My first language is Spanish. Growing up in Miami, it was commonplace to hear people speaking Spanish, but then I moved to Central Florida, and English became the norm. Every once in a while, I’d hear Spanish speakers around the local Bodega, Puerto Rican restaurant, Dominican hair salon, Cuban neighbors, but mainly I heard it at home. 

Moving to NYC at 17, I heard many more languages, but English still took a foothold in daily conversation. Now, I live in Dublin, a city so multicultural I hear at LEAST 4 different spoken languages a day. Walking into a Tesco, I hear students speaking Portuguese, riding the Luas I hear Irish, turning a street corner I hear French, and going up the stairs, I hear Thai. Hearing conversations, I don’t linguistically understand makes me nostalgic for cultures I am not yet familiar with. 

Amongst my roommates and I, we speak 5 languages altogether. English, Spanish, Persian, Polish, and Russian. As someone who has been attempting to learn Russian for a few years, I call this kismet. Although my student accommodation is so vastly international, my course at TUD is primarily comprised of Irish students. I’ve been graciously blessed to experience what makes Dublin so unique, its mix of Irish people from different corners of Ireland and a vast number of international students from all over the world. 

There’s an unspoken kindness that lingers in the air, and that is why even though I’ve been here little over 2 months, I feel at home. I feel at home in the societies I’ve joined, in the classrooms I contribute to, in the sports clubs and events I attend. One of my favorite events so far has been the Go-Karting competition I entered as part of TUD’s Karting Club. I came to the event alone, wet from the rain, and unsure of what to expect. 

Would I be welcomed? 

Did I have enough driving experience for this?

As I geared up for the first race with a karting suit, helmet, and gloves, I started chatting with the few other girls there. By the end of the race, we were exchanging numbers, pics of the day, and making plans to hang out again. I left the Go-Karting competition with many friends, dry, and excited for the next event! On top of that, I had a flight to Scotland right after the event and the nicest lad drove me from the competition to Dublin (an hour away!) so I wouldn’t miss my flight. There are no words to express how grateful I was for this knight in shining armor and new friend. 

I’ve moved around quite a bit over the past 6 years, and have never assimilated to any city or culture faster. Regardless of your language, origin, or accent (They love my American Accent!), everyone I’ve spoken to is so incredibly open to sharing their opinions, inviting you to the local pub, and adding you to a group chat. The city, the people, the vibe, they make it easy as long as you’re willing and open to trying new things. I really do love it here, and I can’t wait to see what adventures the next few months holds.

After a very challenging several years, in 2021 I finally lived in a version of peace – peace like a pine tree reaching towards the clouds at sunset – in myself and stability in my found-family and extensive support system in Boston/Cambridge. So as my partner and I packed up our cute studio apartment in Boston’s Fenway, I felt both excitement for this new adventure and fear of leaving all that I built.

After arriving in Ireland, my fears seemed to come true. I was overwhelmed, consistently lost, and lonely. On my first day, my first time eating at a café in Dublin, I could not find a seat outside, so I sat on the sidewalk, picked at my chicken strips and salad, then started sobbing. Each night, as I prepared for bed, my body would protest – scream at me in the familiar language of panic attacks, “where are we why are we here is it safe is it safe are you sure that it’s safe?” I was worried I made the wrong choice in coming to Ireland, scared that I could not make it through even the first month. I was terrified that the precarious peace I built in Boston had shattered and I would not find it again.

Searching for the same version of peace I built for myself in Boston left me feeling increasingly hopeless. I turned instead towards searching for moments of joy. I found it in urban parks, in the sun and sea, in rocky shores abutting cliffs. In the ice cold water of the Atlantic on my skin as I ran through waves that crashed against white cliffs in County Antrim. In spinning in circles at a peak in Howth overlooking County Dublin. I found safety in maps on my walls and dragging myself out of bed at least once each day to drink coffee and read in St. Stephen’s, Merion Square, or Dubh Linn Garden. In exploring – on my own and with friends.

Intentional exploration, purposeful moments of joy, have helped me find safety in this new place; have helped me build a newfound strength within myself; have anchored my soul in hope and light on the days where the clouds do not part and the darkness wins. To continue this, I decided to fully commit to going to all the counties (or at least all the coastal ones) in Ireland this year, the map below showing my current/by the end of this week progress (for a live tracking, see my instagram @lvndrmeg). I am eager to continue exploring this beautiful little island. In fact, this weekend I am going to County Donegal with the TCD Kayaking Club – an adventure I would have run away from a month ago. I hope to continue finding and building a peace like waves crashing into caverns in ancient cliffs within myself.

I have always loved to learn by doing, and that’s what my first two months in Ireland have been all about. I’m getting a MSc in Sociology (Comparative Social Change) through a new and experimental program offered jointly by Trinity and UCD. My cohort and I have been looking at the cultural, political and economic forces that drive social change. One of the things I appreciate about the program is its emphasis on modern social phenomena in Ireland. What’s even better is seeing and learning about these dynamics firsthand.

This week, for example, I was in County Cork visiting family who live in the small rural village of Boherbue. The strong ties between residents, many of whom have lived there their entire lives, run deep. That sense of community is clear at places like The Corner House, one of only two bars in town. A few nights ago, I was there with my aunt and uncle. Looking around the place, I asked them how many of the other patrons they knew. Every one, they told me, with a look that said of course. Many of their friends and neighbors farmed the land for decades, and their lives changed profoundly when their agrarian community modernized in recent decades. 

My aunt lives in the same house where she and her four siblings grew up. It doesn’t have a numerical street address but is instead known as “An Teach Beag,” or “The little house.” Down the road, several new housing developments are under construction. The new homes are  something my aunt thinks is likely driven by economic growth in Ireland’s cities. While large employers are bringing new investment and jobs to cities like Dublin, this growth has also put pressure on the housing market. My aunt thinks it’s the reason more people are looking to once-remote places like Boherbue to put down roots and start families. 

Back in the classroom at UCD and Trinity, my classmates and I have been looking at the causes and implications of this modernization and growth. One of the most positive outcomes, I think, is Dublin’s vibrant arts scene, where the modern and traditional intermix.

This fall, along with fellow Mitchell Scholars and friends from class, I attended the Dublin Fringe Festival and the Red Line Book Festival, I saw independent films at City Centre’s screening rooms, and lots of local musical performances and comedy shows. They have all been highlights of my time here so far and I can’t wait to explore the work of more contemporary Irish creatives as well as the classics over the coming year. 

Most days I walk by a memorial on UCD’s campus to one of its most famous alumni, James Joyce. Inscribed on a bench in a rose garden is a quote from Finnegan’s Wake: “They lived and laughed and loved and left.”

It reminds me not to take a day here for granted, and to  soak up all I can about this beautiful and fascinating island. 

I got to Ireland a little less than two months ago in order to begin my Master’s study at Trinity College Dublin as a George J. Mitchell Scholar. I was the first of the Mitchell Scholars to arrive at Trinity this past August. I came early to campus in hopes of attending my postgraduate orientation on campus and meeting others before the initiation of my classes; I was unaware, however, that due to the COVID-19 pandemic there were only a limited number of in-person seats and the orientation would largely be held online! At first, therefore, I had a great deal of solitude and quietness as the campus was empty prior to the start of the school year and the other Mitchell Scholars had yet to arrive. Nevertheless, I made the most of my time and watched orientation online with a nice cup of coffee and sat in Library Plaza, looking out on the iconic Trinity Campanile.

Since then, my time in Ireland has flown by increasingly fast as I have immersed myself in my classes and into the many opportunities available in Dublin. My Master’s program in Race, Ethnicity, Conflict is within Trinity’s Sociology program and focuses on the construction of identity (such as race, gender, sexuality…etc) and its implications in the creation of conflict. I’m taking four classes this term: (1) Theories of Race and Ethnicity, (2) Theories of Conflict, (3) Research Methods, and (4) Racism and Resistance. The Master’s program is an interesting topic to be studying in Ireland, in the wake of the growing diversity in Ireland since the emergence of the “Celtic Tiger” and Ireland’s history of British colonization and sectarian violence. It is also relevant today, with the rise of the radical right, populist leaders, and identitarian politics across the Western World over the past decade.

Apart from my classes I’ve also been exploring Dublin and the surrounding area. Starting off with the Mitchell Orientation Weekend in Mid-September, I went to the MoLi museum and the Epic Museum, on a walk around Greystone, and to the Powerscourt Estate—which has one of the most beautiful sets of gardens I’ve seen—with the other Mitchell Scholars. 

On my own, I’ve been traveling around the area and have taken full advantage of the free historical sites owned by the government; from Dublin Castle and the National Museum to the National Gallery and the Royal Hospital, I’ve been traveling around Dublin learning about the history of the Island I am calling my home for the academic year. In addition to museums and castles, Dublin also has a large number of free parks such as Phoenix Park that I’ve been exploring. At a bit of a cost, but equally worthwhile, I’ve also gone to see the Guinness Storehouse, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, and the Book of Kells. 

Ireland has been, so far, a place of great beauty and exploration, with extremely kind people. I’ve even grown a liking for Guinness!

The past eight months have been different for everyone. Going back to school this year after working in the state legislature for over four years, I was eager to see how a legislative session (which in Maryland spans from January to April by constitutional mandate) would operate during a still-raging pandemic. While my brain was still thinking about what my former work career would look like, I didn’t spend much time thinking about how my learning experience over the next year would differ from my past academic experiences.
Over the fall semester, I was fortunate to be based at a small outpost of Trinity College Dublin located in Belfast, and benefited from being a member of a cohort of less than ten masters students. While almost every other student on the island of Ireland was dealing with remote learning, our cohort was meeting for in-person (socially distant) class each week. After almost six months of relative isolation (including a mandatory 14-day quarantine upon arrival in Northern Ireland), it was so refreshing to be able to learn and socialize with my peers again. We understood the risks associated with the pandemic, but each did our best to maintain our “bubble”.
Moving into the winter, the UK-based COVID variant increased caseloads throughout the island, leading to additional restrictions, and for the time, an end to our in-person class experience. But, I can confidently say that my learning experience has not suffered. Over the past months, I’ve spent plenty of time on Zoom (like most of the world at this point), but I’ve connected with some of the top conflict transformation scholars in the world, from Colombia to South Africa to Palestine. Although my cohort hasn’t been able to retreat to the various conflict resolution centers located in Northern Ireland, we’ve made up for it by creating meaningful interactions with both local and global practitioners. I cannot give enough credit to my professors, and the support staff at Trinity College Dublin for making these experiences possible, and maintaining an extraordinary learning environment during such a difficult time.
Moving out of the most severe COVID restrictions in Northern Ireland, I’m confident that we will finish the year strong – similar to how we started it – with safe and responsible in-person learning opportunities. While so many experiences have been impacted by the pandemic, I feel so fortunate to be in a situation where I can still make the most of this incredible learning opportunity in a place like Belfast. I look forward to closing out the academic year strong, and using the additional freedoms to continue the on-the-ground research necessary for my masters thesis.

The sun rises early–earlier. And its razor blade blaze cuts my curtains and finds its way to my tired eyes. I missed the ever ephemeral nighttime and find myself still in yesterday, today. I trim my beard and wash my face. There’s a satisfying ritual in applying each step of a skincare routine. Rinse your face in cold water (yesterday is gone). Wash, gently, for thirty seconds (synonymous with forgiving undone tasks). Rinse, again (yesterday is surely gone). Apply your toner (notice your imperfections). Apply your serum (there is beauty in them). Apply moisturizer (set your intentions). Apply sunscreen (youth is not forever).

Blackrock is full of white-haired couples and grey-haired droves of men with bike helmets and awaiting flat whites. I am a sore thumb. Young and with stinging sun-scared eyes. I sit beyond the train station, on the water. A dog wades in, anticipating the ball that follows. Green streak on grey sky. She shakes herself off and I am dressed in droplets that catch the sun. I have recently completed an essay summarizing the applications of variational autoencoders in natural language processing. I write a poem:

There’s sand in my wallet
Between its toes
And chafing the thighs of my credit cards
200 grit
Like I could rub it between my fingers
And not notice when it finally breaks skin with its persistent caress

I could empty every sleeve
Almost throw out that Loyalty Card
With only one cup marked
From my year in Minneapolis
and the morning I roamed into Saint Paul

Reassemble it, meticulously
Punch cards into an IBM1401 machine
Marvel at how slim it has become
How much time I will save
Now that gift cards are stacked
And my Visa
with roll-over points
Sits in the most prominent spot

Then find my card declined
At a coffee shop whose wifi is noted to be:
“Off until 2PM”
Because there is still sand in my wallet

And it has eroded away the strip
And I have missed out on my points
that promised to take me to Hawaii one day
And pay with cash instead
And nature revels in Her small victory.

I don’t sleep that day. I am euphoric. I play music and take a long walk. Then, as night approaches, I push through sleep again. Awake becomes synonymous with alive. I can’t describe that night. Sorry, it escapes me.

But I become aware at the edge of Sandymount. We have sung through the nighttime/daytime/sometime streets. Hammond Song. “We’ll always love you / but that’s not the point.” We leave our shoes and carry the tired to sleep on our backs. We embrace and kiss cheeks. Why do I always sleep past noon? I am, briefly, a child again. Stomp and ask dumb questions. The tide has taken the water so far out that we can’t reach it. First, there is stiff wet sand, then sheets of shells, then sand dryer than before. There are saltwater rivers and ponds. Birds flock and mingle. They seem tired and rudely awakened by our jubilant parade.

48 hours without sleep.

I wrote my last blog post about gratitude, and I’ve had a lot to be grateful for since that post was published. I started working for a venture capital fund named SOSV that currently employs two previous Mitchell Scholars Meghan Hind and Kelly Kirkpatrick. Their mentoring has been invaluable to me, particularly since I have no background in finance whatsoever. 

I spent last weekend at a picnic by Menlo Castle with excellent homemade sandwiches and even better friends. I’ll spend this weekend celebrating Mitchell Scholar Kyle Berlin’s birthday with The Dublin Boys, and on Sunday I’ll go paddleboarding with some local Galwegians. Things are looking up! It seems that after a long year of tough lockdown and isolation the Irish summer proves to be a promising one.

The sun doesn’t set until nearly 10PM in Ireland during the summer. The impact this has on mental health cannot be understated- sunlight! It’s here! The days are long for fun and adventure, even for those who like to sleep in (admittedly like me). For once in my life as a ginger, I am not the palest person in my friend group. I think the Irish definitely have me beat on that, and I had a good chuckle watching my Irish friends lather themselves in sunscreen in 50 degree weather (and still get burnt to a crisp!).

After a long and tumultuous application cycle, I’m very thankful to have been accepted at Georgetown Law where I have received a full-tuition scholarship. I look forward to being in DC and close to all of the US-Ireland Alliance festivities. A special shoutout to Mitchell Scholar Achille for also going through this crazy law school application process with me, and being a great friend to vent with about the process.

I guess what I’m trying to convey is that I’m just so, so, so grateful for such a wonderful year. Despite the pandemic and being presented with every obstacle humanly possible to making friends, I will be leaving Ireland with several friendships that will last a lifetime. Whether with the other Mitchell scholars, my coworkers at SOSV, or the friends I made at the Galway Volleyball Club, it has been an incredible year. I can’t thank Trina, Carolina, and the US-Ireland Alliance enough for such a life-changing opportunity. I will definitely be back to visit!