The University of the Waves

A view of the sea from Salthill

In my application essay for the Mitchell, I had referenced a letter I had written to my freshman year advisor at Brown. In that letter, I had written the following:

“As September approaches, I am reminded of James Joyce’s Eveline from The Dubliners – the young woman whose compliance to the past and fear of insecurity immobilizes her. Unlike Eveline, I wish to thrust myself into all of the indefinite ‘seas of the world’ without hesitation, disregarding the possibility of drowning by learning how to swim. Sometimes I wonder who I may become or what I may achieve. I am quite excited … as I begin a migration that involves not only physical movement, but movement of discovery. I realize that a true education is as much about discovering the world and people around you as it is affirming yourself as an individual.”

Now, four years later and two months spent surrounded by Ireland’s waters (the same waters Eveline must have looked upon), I don’t fail to recognize the relevance – both literal and figurative – of my 18 year old self’s words.

I have always felt bound to something or someone – my family, my friends, my school, my home. But here, abroad for the first time, I suddenly find myself in a new land without any previous connections. This has been both frightening and comforting at the same time – a mixture of expectation and ease in getting lost, over and over again, and each time finding myself a little different from before.

There is nothing more peaceful to me, for example, than the anonymity of being able to wander by myself, past the sweater shops and colorful cafes that line Galway’s streets, while the songs of street musicians envelop the air – wrapping around each and every person who hurries past, forging a transient connection that appears and disappears. The brief interactions, the quick glances, the shared ritual of being both alone and together – they all produce a steady pulse that creates and gives movement to us all.

My favorite poet, Pablo Neruda, once wrote: “I need the sea because it teaches me… the fact is that until I fall asleep, in some magnetic way I move in the university of the waves.”

We can’t know what the waves will bring, nor what they will take back. But perhaps it is in being able to appreciate this uncertainty that we can feel most certain and secure. Indeed, you look onto the sea and realize it is beautiful because it is always moving – collecting all your loose thoughts and hidden worries, your disappointments and doubts, as if they were shells on the shore.

As every day passes and each present moment becomes a more simple memory, I realize my time here is limited – and just as quickly as I have come, I, like the waves, will also leave. But I also realize that long after I leave here, it will not be the degree or the achievements or the finishing up of something or ending up somewhere that will have changed me but, rather, the people I will have met, the histories I will have uncovered, and the places that will have become a part of me.

And, like Neruda, I can claim: “the soft unfolding of the wave…replaced my world in which were growing stubborn sorrow…and my life changed suddenly: as I became part of its pure movement.”

Posted in class of 2016, National University of Ireland Galway, Travels on the Island, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

The Tale of Declan the Hero

For the Mitchell Scholarship Orientation in Dublin, Sasha and I took a bus from Belfast, where we both attend Queen’s University, Belfast. We arrived with a few hours to spare  before the reception at Google HQ. We got off the bus after our ~2 hour journey and sped to the nearest bathroom before exploring Dublin. Within moments of the bus rapidly pulling away, I realized we had forgotten something very important – our two suitcases…containing our formal attire for that evening…oh no.

After a brief (slightly panicked) phone call to the bus company, we were told that our best bet was to wait until we got a phone call from the HQ at the airport. Given the bus schedule, we had 120 minutes until the bus with our luggage would arrive back at the airport. This was a problem because we only had about 90 minutes until we had to walk to the reception – less time than we needed to engage in Operation Retrieve Luggage from Airport.

Therefore, we decided to engage in Operation Stop all Buses. We stood by a bus stop, stopping every bus from this company and asking to look at the luggage in case we ‘caught our bus.’ After more than an hour of this, since we were now late for departure to the reception, we abandoned Operation Stop All Buses.

I was lucky enough to room with Julianne, who plans ahead and had brought two formal dresses and two formal sets of shoes. This meant that I was essentially the luckiest person in Dublin. I could wear her second dress and second set of shoes! This I did. Sasha, however, due to his extreme height, was unable to find a set of clothing that would fit him and had to attend the reception sporting his Queen’s University Belfast sweatshirt. He pulled it off though!

At this point we had about 15 minutes until the start of the reception itself, which was a 30 minute walk away. Commence Operation Taxi in which we, unsurprisingly, given the name of the operation, took a taxi to the Google HQ. On the way, I tried calling the bus company once more to check on our luggage, which should have arrived at the airport by now.

The automatic message informed me that the bus company’s airport office had closed. Excellent! It was increasingly looking like we would have to taxi to the airport post-reception to search for our luggage, which may or may not have ever arrived.

Cue Declan the Hero. Our friendly taxi driver overheard my phone calls and our subsequent discussion about how we would retrieve our luggage. He seemed concerned for us. Declan then offered to drive to the airport and search for our luggage for us. We left Declan outside of Google HQ, warmed by the kindness of his offer.

The reception itself was wonderful! I enjoyed socializing with my fellow Mitchells and with the many impressive guests. I did eventually get a phone call. From Declan.

I stepped out, and called Declan back – he had found our luggage. He was under no obligation to help us out in our time of need, and yet he did. He truly saved the day.

I love Ireland, I decided. The hospitality and kindness shown to us by Declan absolutely blew me away. Furthermore, the kindness of all of the people I’ve met in Belfast and throughout Northern Ireland has been extraordinary, and I am grateful to have the opportunity to get to know so many genuine people.

Posted in Class of 2015, Northern Ireland | Leave a comment

“Slagging,” authenticity, and Irish hospitality

An acquaintance of mine, upon learning that I would be living in Ireland for a year, encouraged me to keep a journal of observations about the nation’s culture and institutions—a sort of Toqueville-esqe Democracy in Ireland, as he put it. I’ve decided to use this first blog post as an opportunity to share a few of my observations thus far and the circumstances that inspired them.

“Slagging,” authenticity, and hospitality

The week before classes started, all of the master’s students at the NUIG School of Business had to attend a five-day course in mathematics, the purpose of which was to ensure that everyone was on the same page before the semester started. Unfortunately, this course wasn’t announced until after my flight from the U.S had been set. No problem, I thought. My flight was a full week before classes started, so I would still make it in time. I had planned to use that week to look for housing, which would now be more difficult with math class, but I wasn’t worried. “I’ll figure it out,” I told my girlfriend and my parents before I left.

It became apparent soon after arriving in Galway that my usual “I’ll figure it out” approach was not an adequate strategy. Tens of thousands of Irish students had descended upon the city in the recent weeks, and the housing hunt was an actual, ferocious hunt. To continue this metaphor, the city was filled with Legolases roaming around in search of a prized deer (a double bedroom ensuite). I say that jokingly, but there really were 15,000 students on a Facebook housing page, and Independent.ie described the accommodation crunch as “the worst it has ever been.” I even saw a few first-years camping on the greens between the city canals. After several days of living in a hostel packed with peers facing a similar fate, I started to worry.

I had met a few other guys in the economics master’s program, and each day they would ask me at math class whether I had found housing. The optimism in my answers started to dwindle, but the heartiness with which they laughed at my bad luck only increased, and I found it impossible not to laugh myself. “I can’t belieeeeeeve you were so stupid to put it off this long,” my buddy Sean quipped with a wide grin and an expletive. Conor jumped in at my confusion, “The Irish are polite around people they don’t know or don’t care to know; they slag their friends.”

All the hostels were booked for the weekend, and I still didn’t have an apartment. But Conor’s diagnosis proved true: I was one of the lads. My friend Tomas put me up for the night, and shortly after that my luck turned. I found an apartment right on the Corrib River, ironically with a view of the canals that the first-years had been camping next to. Knock on my door on a week night and you’ll likely find me sitting around the kitchen table with one or two of the master’s crew over, studying away, debating loudly about economic policy, hurling insults at each other—or perhaps some refreshingly authentic combination of all three.

One of my favorite posts on the house hunting Facebook page:

Galway house hunting

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in class of 2016, Housing in Ireland, mathematics, National University of Ireland Galway | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Straight Ballin in Belfast

Hello everyone!

I’ve been in Belfast for about two months now, and I am happy to provide some updates on my life so far. To provide a bit of background, I’m completing a Master’s in Conflict Transformation and Social Justice at Queen’s University Belfast. While we study conceptual, moral, legal, and political issues that relate to conflict transformation and social justice around the world, there is a focus on the issues between Catholics and Protestants* here in Northern Ireland. I’ve really enjoyed studying a conflict while living in the very place it occurred, as my instructors have been able to pull in real-world examples from Belfast into our lectures almost every week.

However, while I’ve certainly valued my classroom experience, without a doubt the most rewarding aspect of my time in Belfast so far has been outside of it. First, I joined a professional basketball team: http://www.belfasttelegraph.co.uk/sport/classy-americans-sure-to-bolster-belfast-star-hopes-in-all-ireland-premier-league-31575391.html, and while I am not certain how I managed to fool them into thinking I was classy, I know just how fortunate I am to be able to play basketball again. I love basketball, but after tearing my ACL last December I was quite certain my competitive basketball career was over. To find a team in Belfast—filled with great teammates who have all made me feel so at home–has been a blessing beyond words.

I’ve also found a number of opportunities to teach basketball. Basketball, as a relatively “foreign” sport without sectarian ties and filled with extremely tall and goofy Americans with funny accents (such as myself), is often used to bridge community divides here in Northern Ireland. I’ve started volunteering with PeacePlayer, a cross-community peacebuilding charity that uses basketball to unite and educate young people from Protestant and Catholic communities across Belfast. I’m involved with their primary school “twinning” program, where entire classes of children at the Primary 6 and 7 levels (age 8-11) from neighboring Controlled (predominantly Protestant) and Maintained (predominately Catholic) schools are paired together for basketball and classroom sessions. I have my own team made up of students from neighboring Glenwood and St. Clare’s primary schools, and besides really enjoying my time playing with the kids, I have learned so much experiencing the conflict through the eyes of children.

This experience with PeacePlayers has also led into other coaching opportunities. Last week I worked a “Hard 2 Guard” camp for students on fall break, and a couple days ago I was actually offered a position coaching an under-18 youth team. Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like their practice schedule fits with my class schedule, but I’ve really enjoyed the opportunities to share my love of basketball, and it’s comforting to know that I have a way to stay involved in basketball that I truly enjoy and can continue long after my playing days are over. I also think the name “Coach Seymore” has a nice ring to it 🙂

On the whole, however, the reason my time in Belfast has been so special so far has nothing to do with basketball and everything to do with the people. On my second day in Belfast, I met my friend Sam, who loves the NFL and introduced me to his church, LIFE Church Belfast. On my third day, I met my friend Maevis, who snuck me extra food at an international students dinner, and would invite both Rachel (the other Belfast Mitchell scholar) and I over to her house to eat with her family. On the fourth day, I met Jess, who invited Rachel and I to come up to see the beautiful Northern Irish North Coast.

I could go on and on about the kindness and friendliness of the people of Northern Ireland, but this blog does have a word limit. Needless to say, I’ve felt very at home in Belfast, only because of all the people who have welcomed me like family.

*Though I referenced “Catholics” and “Protestants,” the conflict in Northern Ireland had/has very little to do with religion. The conflict is between nationalists, who consider themselves Irish and want Northern Ireland to become a part of a united Ireland, and loyalists, who consider themselves British and want Northern Ireland to remain a part of the United Kingdom. The terms “Catholic” and “Protestant” are convenient terms used because the overwhelming majority of nationalists would consider themselves culturally Catholic, and most loyalists as Protestant.

Posted in class of 2016, Conflict Resolution, Northern Ireland, Queen's University Belfast, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Starting Off with a Bang

After nearly ten months of anticipation and excitement, I was finally in my room at Trinity College Dublin. I immediately began to unpack, anxious to get settled and begin this new chapter of my life. In just a few minutes, my bag was empty, and my room—despite its barren yellow walls—felt like a home. I couldn’t help but notice how remarkably calm I felt despite the exhaustion of travelling and the uncertain future ahead of me. As I enjoyed this (admittedly uncharacteristic) moment of peace, I began to feel confident and prepared for my year in Ireland. It was at this exact moment that I was interrupted by an unexpected BANG! My empty outlet converter had erupted into an electrical spark that was surprising in both its size and proximity to my hand. It scorched the carpet and shattered my state of blissful peace. After quickly unplugging it and ensuring that the smoking carpet had not materialized into an actual fire, I stood rooted to the floor in my room and completely flustered. Just like that, my moment of Zen had come to a jarring conclusion.

Later, while waiting for someone from the maintenance department to reset the fuse I had blown, I had begun to think rationally again, and I had some important thoughts:

  1. I have a degree in electrical engineering, I somehow should’ve seen that coming.
  2. At least I’m not currently explaining to Trinity College and the US-Ireland Alliance how I managed to burn down a building within an hour of arriving on campus.
  3. I’ll never forget my first night on my own in Ireland.

Additionally, I figured that this was likely the first of many small speed bumps that I would encounter throughout the coming months. Over the ensuing weeks that prediction proved to be true, as I had to adjust to a new academic program and city, complete my registration as a legal resident of Ireland, and decipher the unlabeled buttons of the antique microwave in my kitchen. With the support of my new friends, particularly my fellow Mitchell scholars, I was able to face each of these challenges head-on.

Though there have been stressful times since that first night, they have been greatly overshadowed by the positive experiences. In just two months, I have squeezed through narrow passageways in castles built centuries ago, climbed hundreds of feet down a cliff to stick my toes in the frigid Irish Sea, and become friends with people from all over the world. During my brief time in Ireland thus far, I have been fortunate enough to experience the storied history, gorgeous landscape, and rich culture that it has to offer. I can’t wait to discover even more.

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Posted in class of 2016, Trinity College Dublin | Leave a comment

Life in Ireland is “grand”

The alarm goes off at 5:30am, signaling the start to my day. As a Muslim, I pray 5 obligatory prayers and our earliest begins at dawn. This means I’m always awake by 5:30am everyday! I also try to spend parts of my day reading Quran and watching Islamic lectures. Beyond religion, I try to keep up with the literature around neuroimmunology and general world events. Some of these events are political and others are more entrepreneurial focused. My favorite reading material is from TechCrunch and Forbes. This morning I was reading about Martin Shrekli a controversial biotech entrepreneur who made headlines for increasing his drug price by 5000%.

While ostensibly my life seems to have a set structure due to my religion and academic timetable, in reality my days are always filled with unique opportunities and events that keep me on my toes. Below is a glimpse of what I’ve been up to in Ireland.

As a Master’s student in Immunology & Global Health, I have a set timetable with lectures, lab practical’s, and seminars for the first half and then a research thesis project for the next half. I selected this master’s program because of its award-winning reputation, research areas, new focus on neuroimmunology and drug development, as well as the mix of hard science and global health courses and unique research thesis program. Today was special because we had a seminar where talented researchers from various parts of Europe talk about their work and allow our class to ask them questions. Today’s seminar was of particular interest to me because of the focus on metabolism. I introduced the speaker and led the question and answer segment. The speaker was working at the front-lines of her field and her work validated the importance of finding novel solutions for obesity. In fact the next day was a big deal for Symmetry Therapeutics, a biotech company I co-founded with Drs. Jon Brestoff Parker and Thomas H. Reynolds, the purpose of which is translating novel therapeutics into the metabolic disease market. I spend most my time outside of class working alongside our team to make our dream a reality. Our current success is a testament to how well our team works and the unique structure and vision we hold for our company.

Outside of class, I’m involved in societies and engaged in events around the college. For example, I had the honor of attending the official opening of a new building on campus through a special invitation from President Phillip Nolan.  The building is dedicated to a future towards applied research, translational work, and in general to encourage entrepreneurship. This strikes an important cord with me. I know first-hand the steps it takes to translate basic research into commercialization. At Purdue, I invented four lab-based technologies and have been active in numerous start-ups as a founder, team member, or advisor that span a multitude of fields and technologies. I plan to be engaged with the new center as a mentor for young entrepreneurs.

Beyond Maynooth, I visit Dublin which is conveniently located a short train or bus ride away. I spend my time sight-seeing, meeting with other entrepreneurs, and attending meetings, conferences, or events. My most recent trip to Dublin, I had the chance to visit the CoderDojo headquarters. CoderDojo is a wonderful non-profit targeted towards getting kids 7-17 into coding and STEM. My two younger sisters founded and run CoderDojoAnvil in West Lafayette. They have one of the largest dojos and are using their momentum to plan larger community based events. It was clear after speaking with the leadership at CoderDojo that social entrepreneurship and disruptive educational change were what built the backbone to their rapidly growing success. I’m excited to continue to stay engaged with them and plan to volunteer at a few dojos in Ireland as well as attend events hosted by them.

The Irish times recently wrote up a profile on me. Please visit here to read the full story:

http://www.irishtimes.com/news/education/my-education-week-milad-alucozai-mitchell-scholar-scientist-entrepreneur-1.2446073

Posted in class of 2016, National University of Ireland Maynooth | Leave a comment

On Sexual Assault — Replacing Shame and Silence with Understanding and Community

On April 12, 2008, while visiting Belfast for the US-Ireland Alliance’s commemoration marking the 10th anniversary of the Good Friday Agreement, I was raped by a 15-year old stranger in Colin Glen Forest Park, off the Falls Road.  Ever since then, I’d harbored an unspoken dread of ever returning to Belfast.

However, I had to return many times — for the trial of my attacker, for his sentencing hearing, and later, to be assessed for Northern Ireland’s Criminal Injuries Compensation Scheme.  On each of those visits, I would board the plane from London to Belfast with a mixture of trepidation and nausea, reluctant to return to the city of my rape, wishing instead I could hide in my bed.

As a Mitchell Scholar, I was acutely aware of the irony of being raped in Ireland.  As if all the understanding and goodwill built through my relationship with Ireland had taken an unexpected turn when I met that 15-year-old boy.

Last summer, I returned to Belfast for the first time in years.  It was a necessary step in researching for my novel, Dark Chapter, which is based largely on my own attack.  I decided to take the ferry from Liverpool, and after seven dull hours of spotty Wi-Fi and a long blue horizon, I found myself leaning against a deck railing, staring at the stacks of storage containers that line Belfast Harbour and the city drawing near.  I knew my rapist was now out of prison, living on probation somewhere in Belfast.  But I tried to keep this fact at the back of my mind as I went about my research.

Over the next few days I met with police, community leaders, forensic psychologists, and public prosecutors. I was invited back in August, when West Belfast had their Feile an Phobail Arts Festival.  And so seven weeks later, I lived with a family off the Falls Road, went to talks on the Troubles and Boyzone concerts alike. I spoke with Probation Services, other rape survivors, social workers, and visited the new sexual assault referral centre in Antrim.  In a pub on the Falls Road, I met the community leader who had organized the neighborhood protest against my attacker, when they discovered who he was.

My friends often ask me why I felt compelled to visit Belfast again, or even write this novel — but for me, this is all part of a necessary process of recovery and discussion.  It’s not enough to just be raped, and never talk about it again.  Women (and men and children) are raped with shocking frequency.  Yet, our society feels too ashamed to look a rape victim in the eye, to ask about what happened to them — and what they are doing to recover.

That’s one reason I started the Clear Lines Festival, the UK’s first-ever festival dedicated to talking about sexual assault and consent through the arts and discussion. It’s something I founded this April, on the 7th anniversary of my rape. I thought if only we could create a space where artists, the public, and experts could come together, we could bring to light some of the human stories behind sexual assault, and reach a greater understanding about it.

We have an exciting line-up of talks and performances for the Clear Lines Festival, and just a week after launching crowd-funding, we’ve already raised 60% of our initial target.  But £ 3,500 is the bare minimum we need for the festival to happen.  We take international pledges — so help us reach our stretch target of £ 9,000.  Then we’ll be able to film the events, post videos online, and impact even more people around the world.

Please consider pledging what you can and spread the word  — the sooner the better, so we can continue building our momentum.  Just as my relationship with Ireland has changed for the better, I’m hoping we change our relationship with this issue. Let’s replace the shame and silence, with insight, understanding, and community.

Our Crowdfunder campaign ends July 8th and if we raise the necessary funds, the Clear Lines Festival will run July 30 – August 2nd in Central London.

Our Crowdfunder campaign:

http://www.crowdfunder.co.uk/clear-lines/?

Our website: http://clearlines.org.uk/

Our Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/clearlinesuk

Our Twitter: https://twitter.com/clearlinesuk

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Mitchell Scholar Michael Solis reports on his experience with the Irish development agency, Trócaire, in Latin America and Sierra Leone

It feels like just a few days ago that I was furiously typing out my master’s thesis at NUI Galway, in-between runs along Galway’s promenade and late night hang-outs at the pub with Mitchells and Irish friends. That was back in 2009-10. Those were the post global financial meltdown days, and many of the Mitchell Scholars were unsure of what was in store for us on the other side of the Atlantic upon returning home. Would we find work? Should we keep studying? Where would we live? There was so much uncertainty, and we had a full year to reflect on it while living in Ireland.

Latin America had been a love of mine for years, and I knew I wanted to find a way back after I completed my master’s program in international human rights law. A volunteer experience with Roddy Doyle’s Fighting Words in Dublin inspired me to find work with the Organization for Youth Empowerment (OYE) in Honduras shortly after leaving Ireland. That experience involved promoting educational access, leadership training, and skills development for at-risk youth living in the shadow of the most violent city in the world, San Pedro Sula. These are young people who, in addition to severe economic challenges, face the threats of drug trafficking, gang activity, and organized crime that have corroded the country’s security situation. That grassroots experience prepared me for my current position with Trócaire, one of Ireland’s leading development and humanitarian aid agencies.

Over the past two and a half years, I was based in Nicaragua working as a Regional Institutional Funding Officer — a job that ideally connected my loves for Ireland, Latin America, human rights, and development.  My position involved working with seven offices in the region on designing new projects in human rights, gender, sustainable livelihoods, and disaster risk reduction, in addition to securing funding to bring these projects to life.

One of the most meaningful aspects about working with Trócaire is the direct access it has provided to some of the harshest realities of the different country contexts. Some of the things I have seen here are still difficult to fathom, even in retrospect. Once I was in San Pedro Sula, Honduras during a flash flood. As I drove through the city streets, which had turned into rivers, I came upon a crowd of people who were standing at a safe distance from the bridge I was to cross. The river, which was normally dry, had become a force of fiercely raging rapids. I was shocked to see that a car was dangling off the bridge. I watched helplessly as people tried to escape the vehicle, but a powerful surge of water washed them and their car away. I later learned that two of the men died, and the other fell into a coma.

On a separate occasion, I visited a rural community in Nicaragua – one of the poorest I have seen – where women and men were participating in a project to reduce levels of gender-based violence, which is rife throughout the region. A 15-year-old girl who looked like she was nearing the end of her pregnancy arrived to one of the meetings, sporting a giant black eye. She was quiet and reserved throughout the meeting, but her presence signified something. She had left her home made of sticks and scrap metal to participate in a process that could help her bring an end to the daily violence she was living.

In Haiti, I visited a few of the hundreds of seismic-resistant houses we helped construct for people who had lost their homes in the 2010 earthquake. Nearly four years after the disaster, I saw a vast field of families living in tents in Port-au-Prince, who still hadn’t been able to move into new homes. They were victims who fell through the cracks of the reconstruction phase, unable to find hope in the post-earthquake capital.

In Guatemala, I watched the coverage of legal proceedings that Trócaire helped fund to hold a former dictator accountable for the killing of 1,771 indigenous Mayans, the displacement of 29,000, and the rape and torture of others during 15 massacres. The historic verdict, which was later annulled, had convicted Efrain Rios Montt for genocide and crimes against humanity, marking the first time a former head of state was convicted of genocide in a court in his home country.

These are just a few of the issues I grappled with as a member of the Trócaire team in Latin America. Part of our work involves using resources as effectively and efficiently as possible to enable local actors to respond to these challenges. In Honduras and Guatemala, we are financing the construction of mitigation projects to prevent the impact of future disasters and training courses for architects and construction workers on seismic-resistant design.

In Nicaragua, we have launched a new project to facilitate access to land for rural women in a context where women have been historically denied the same type of access to this precious resource that men enjoy. In El Salvador, we are helping guarantee people’s access to filtered drinking water in a context where 95% of water sources are contaminated. At regional level, we are developing numerous initiatives to help rural people adapt to the realities of climate change, which include more severe storms and a widespread drought that compromised the lives and livelihoods of thousands. In Guatemala, we have mobilized emergency funds from the European Commission to offer relief to families that have experienced the most significant food shortages as a result of the drought.

The challenges in the region are immense, and through Trócaire, I have a way to understand and respond to them. The generosity of the Irish people, who contribute so thoughtfully to these causes, is inspiring as they place their trust in Trócaire to fulfill its justice mandate.  My Irish colleagues who give their hearts and souls to this work, are inspiring, as they make the struggle to establish a just world something that can and should be shared inside and outside of Ireland.

Come June, I will continue with Trócaire in a new capacity as Programme Manager in Sierra Leone. In this new context, one where poverty is widespread and the recent Ebola outbreak devastated the population, I feel lucky to respond to a challenge of such an extraordinary scale. I will build on the work already carried out by Trócaire during the darkest days of the virus.

Now, five years on from my Mitchell experience, my professional path has taken shape in a way unforeseen during those days of uncertainty. I have many people to thank for this, including those at the US-Ireland Alliance who saw potential in my Mitchell application and decided to grant the gift of educational empowerment to a young person from New Jersey who felt passionate about Latin America and human rights. This journey, as impossible as it was to predict when I was a Mitchell Scholar, was an entirely rewarding one, and I’m excited to see how it evolves in the coming years.

All thoughts Michael expresses in this blog are his alone.


Posted in Class of 2010, Development, National University of Ireland Galway | Leave a comment

No Marathon, But Dissertation Research

Last I left you, dear reader, you were waiting anxiously to hear whether or not I survived the Belfast City Marathon. Did I finish? Can I still use both of my legs? Was I airlifted to the emergency room at mile 13 with dangerous heart palpitations?

Alas, I did not actually run. I got as far as arranging to pick up my bib and racing chip, but then fate mercifully intervened: My running partner bowed out with a knee injury and I decided not to go it alone.

We thought we’d play golf instead.

If this feels a little anticlimactic, I apologize. I should not have led you on like that in my previous blog post. The ugly truth is that I harbored doubts all along about my ability to run 26.2 miles on little to no training. I had a carefully thought-out strategy: avoid running to the extent possible in the weeks leading up to the race so as not to be tired. But I can see how even a well-rested runner could come up short. Might I remind you that Pheidippides, the original marathoner, collapsed and died upon reaching the finish line.

Thankfully it didn’t come to that. But since I don’t have any race-day drama to recount here, I thought I’d share a little bit about my research here at Queen’s University. As a master’s student in the Comparative Ethnic Conflict track of the school of Politics, International Studies, and Philosophy, I’ve been at work on a dissertation that looks at why the massive international state-building effort in South Sudan failed to achieve two of its most important stated goals: building a functional democratic state and preventing a return to open conflict.

The dissertation builds on the more than two-dozen interviews I did with current and former U.S., U.N., and South Sudanese officials for an article I published in Foreign Policy magazine in February. My goal in that piece was to weave together a portrait of the U.S. legacy in South Sudan; what emerged was a troubling account of tensions between and within U.S. administrations that alienated the South Sudanese leadership, reduced American leverage, and blinded U.S. officials to some of the warning signs that South Sudan was headed in the direction of civil war.

The interviews also revealed the extent to which the South Sudanese and their international partners were working at cross-purposes — a revelation that led me to embark on my current dissertation project. The literature on state-building is clear that aligning donor interests with those of local elites is critical to getting the kind of “buy-in” that enables successful institution building. Yet in South Sudan, high-minded donor priorities were constantly flouted by local elites — without much protestation on the part of the donors, who prioritized stability above all else — and routinely leveraged into patronage networks and coercive apparatuses that helped keep them in power. Examining whether and to what extent these divergent interests undercut the state-building process is the main undertaking of my dissertation.

Since my year in Belfast is sadly winding to a close, I’ll share one final photo of Queen’s University looking sunny and spring-like — not, assure you, its usual state. It’s been a wonderful year, though, and I’ll be sad to leave this place behind.

I guess I’ll have to come back next year and actually run the marathon.
Posted in Class of 2015, Queen's University Belfast | Leave a comment

A Tale of Two Prisons

I’ve been in South Africa for the past month doing fieldwork for my dissertation. My topic is looking at barriers to implementing the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities at the community level. I’m working with colleagues of my Irish advisor at the University of Stellenbosch and have been based in Cape Town. It’s been an amazing learning experience for me!
While here, I’ve also been able to do some site seeing and learn more about South Africa and it’s history.  In doing so, I’ve made some interesting connections to my time in Ireland.  For instance, when I was in Belfast earlier in the year, one things that stuck with me was a particular mural on our mural tour that depicted many faces that were not Irish. They were prominent leaders in the black communities in the US, South Africa, and around the world. It was a show of solidarity in what many consider a struggle for freedom. One of these faces was Nelson Mandela.
While we were in Belfast we also visited the Crumlin Road Gaol, which was famous for housing, at least temporarily, many political prisoners during the Troubles.  In South Africa, I visited Robben Island, the prison that housed Nelson Mandela for 27 years during apartheid. It was incredibly humbling to drive through the lime quarry where he and others toiled for years in the hot sun and to see the tiny cell where he spent his days. Such a long time period is hard for me to even comprehend; it is longer than I have been alive.
Though my studies are not focused on ethnic conflict or the politics of deeply-divided places, it is an inescapable fact of life in Northern Ireland and South Africa. It is difficult to wrap my head around, having spent my formative years in multi-cultural settings that openly celebrated diversity.  All I can do is try to deepen my understanding by reading the history, and more importantly listening to people’s stories and perspectives while I’m here.  The complexity of it all just leaves me with more questions.
One of the other very powerful things about Robben Island was that, during the tour they shared the names and stories of some of the thousands of people who passed through the jail or lost their lives during South Africa’s struggle towards democracy.  It reminded me of a research project I assisted on in undergrad mapping all the political-conflict related deaths in Belfast during the Troubles. So many people die in these struggles who never have their names known. So many people who sacrificed or whose lives changed forever but were never recognized. I am not a citizen of either of these places, and it is up to them to figure out how to work together and forge a future that can overcome the inequalities, divisions and violence of the past. However, I hope that in the future, when we learn about places and their histories, we can look deeper into these stories. Rather than celebrating only the heroic leaders and figures, as deserving as they are, I hope we can also find ways to recognize the role that ordinary people play in history and in movements that bring about change.

Posted in Class of 2015, Trinity College Dublin, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

“Our pioneers keep striking, inwards and downwards:” Poetry in Northern Ireland

The first thing that drew me to Belfast was poetry. After spending a year poring through the verse of Northern Ireland’s poets, I wanted too to live “in Belfast between the mountain and the gantries/To the hooting of lost sirens and the clang of trams,” as Louis MacNeice put it. That this statelet of just over 1.5 million people could produce so many writers of such intensity and such talent amazed me. There must be something in the water, I reckoned. Or something about the disruption and chaos of the political divide stymied the possibility of public dialogue and sent the more rhythmically minded to verse instead; perhaps Derek Mahon explained the need for poetry better: “Somewhere beyond the scorched gable end and the burnt-out buses/ there is a poet indulging/his wretched rage for order.”

After living in Belfast for nearly eight months, I can tell you that the proliferation of good writing in Northern Ireland can’t be traced back to the water supply. (If that were the case, my stumbling attempts at blank verse would be traipsing along in much better form.) Instead, what surprised me has been the tremendous amount of popular support that poetry, and the literary arts more broadly, enjoy here. In the United States, I considered a poet fortunate to fill twenty seats at a reading. In Belfast, I have been to several readings where the tickets sold out entirely. When listening in an excitement-induced haze to Michael Longley read from his new volume, I had to perch on a folding table at the back of the Queen’s University Great Hall between two bespectacled locals with notebooks and beautiful ink pens. The hall was brimming with people of all ages; even children sat still through an hour of Longley’s soft vowels and low thrum of a voice. Poetry, I discovered, was truly a public art in Belfast, in a way that I could only dream of.

Of course, this is not to say that every person I’ve met over here reads sonnets in his spare time or rhapsodizes about the guttural consonants in Heaney’s “Digging” once you get him to the pub. In fact, many of my friends would likely not be caught dead with me in a poetry reading, but would prefer to meet me for a pint after. Yet there is still something about how poet and audience interact here, both on the page and in person. And it wasn’t until I went to a reading last weekend with Paul Muldoon during the Cathedral Quarter Arts Festival that I could put my finger on it: Poet and reader are in conversation about a place, a community, a sense of belonging that is shared.

All the excitement.

Muldoon, who grew up in South Armagh and studied at Queen’s under Seamus Heaney during the height of the Troubles, has spent the bulk of his professional career outside of Northern Ireland. (At the moment, he lives in New York and serves as The New Yorker’s poetry editor.) And yet, for all his inclination to “grab-bag” poetry, as he joked to us, Belfast presences in his work still. As a non-native, I would have missed many of the references – the communal stories, the cultural symbols, even the place names and the subtle ripple of meanings that follow their mention. It’s all there for the Northern Irish audience though, and they reciprocate in turn, showing up for readings, murmuring, applauding. “…you’re a scion/of the house in which Buck Alec kept a lion,/albeit a toothless lion, which he was given to parade along the Old Shore Road,” Muldoon reads out to chuckles. A friend from Belfast explains it to me afterwards. Buck Alec was a crazy old man who kept old toothless lions up on the Shankhill Road. He rescued them from zoos and would walk the neighborhood with the lions on leashes. This was before there were laws in Northern Ireland preventing that sort of thing.

After he finished reading, the audience filled the church sanctuary with tidal swings of applause. Finally, Muldoon returned to the front for a final poem. He told us, “This is the first time I’ve ever been asked for encore.”

Posted in Class of 2015, Northern Ireland, Queen's University Belfast | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

And go.

My next seven months will be all consuming.  It is time to start something.

My course of study at DIT is in Creative Digital Media with a focus on social media app design.  In my opinion, the programme is excellent.  And apparently, I’m not the only one who thinks so either.  In 2014, it was shortlisted for IT Postgraduate Course of the Year and the Best New Course in Ireland.  After completing one year of the one and a half year programme, I can see why.  It is industry-focused, hands-on, and extremely relevant.  I am learning exactly what I want to learn in a well-designed course of study.  It’s a dash of theory with a dollop of trial and error.  Each module I take builds on the skills from previous modules and leads to some larger goal.  In the case of the programme’s culmination, we are to build a social media app of our own invention.  It is a lot of work, but it is also a ton of fun.

I am working with Karl Power (Karl- get on Twitter), a classmate who shares my enthusiasm for building something kick-ass.  He and I are designing and making a travel lifestyle app that lets a person save details about experiences and places they love in a mobile-first way that makes it easy to find again themselves or share with others to find.  We want to let ordinary people become sources of travel expertise for their family, friends, and extended network.  We are calling it Travel Kandi.

Kandi, as Ginger explains, is something you make yourself and trade with people with whom you connect.  It is at the heart of the Rave Culture tenants of PLUR (Peace, Love, Unity, and Respect).  In our case, we are applying the concept of trading special items to the travel sphere.  Instead of trading brightly colored rave bracelets, we are trading travel suggestions.  It is really just good karma to give someone a great suggestion to enhance their travel experience and to think fondly of you when they go there.  Maybe it is your favorite restaurant in Florence, or the hole-in-the-wall place for fresh steamed dumplings and hot and sour soup in Taipei, which doesn’t even appear properly on Google Maps (it’s somewhere around there).  Perhaps it is the best pint of Guinness in Dublin (Grogans, obviously), the best kebab in Berlin (@caden1688) or the most delicious cherry wine you will ever have in Brussels (@atthinks).  Whatever it is, share the places you love with the people in your life because it will impact them and they will remember you, even years later.  Trade suggestions.  Trade Travel Kandi.

The process that Karl and I will take to bring this app from idea to App Store is one that involves a summer of building upon some core skills in tech and design.  Our programme at DIT has given us many of the fundamentals needed to get us off in the right direction, and now it is up to us to see how far we will go.  In particular, I really enjoyed our UI Design class.  It was taught by John Wood, the Head of Practice at the Dublin-based design company Each & Other, and is really excellent.  Hats off to you, @cogfric, for being an excellent and engaging lecturer.

This summer will be an intense one for Karl and myself as we work our way through the 201-page project proposal that we just submitted today.  We know exactly what we need to do and how to get there.  Now we just need to go do it.

Posted in Class of 2015, Dublin Institute of Technology, Technology | Leave a comment