June 2009 Reflection

Posted on June 1, 2009 by crosson09

Without a doubt, the past three months have been the most exciting and rewarding for me in Ireland. In this time, I attended two separate and equally enjoyable Mitchell Scholar Retreats, explored Europe and North Africa with my beautiful wife, and packed my bags for home in America.

The first of two Mitchell Retreats was held in Belfast, Northern Ireland. The other scholars made their way up North for a series of interesting meetings with politicians at Stormont, a casual chat with ex-combatants at Queens University, and quite simply the best historical/political tour I have taken here in Belfast. Our visit to Stormont was an interesting one complete with candid and compelling conversations with representatives from each of the major political parties here in Northern Ireland. Perhaps even more fascinating than our talks at Stormont was the meeting with former combatants from both the Loyalist and Nationalist ranks of decades gone by. Their personal stories gave me a keen insight into the internal thinking of a city and a land divided. Finally, this first Mitchell Retreat was capped by a truly memorable bus tour of Belfast guided by Dominic Bryan, the Director of Irish Studies at Queen’s University. This irreverent and hilarious professor cut right to the heart of the major issues and historical challenges that face Belfast and Northern Ireland more broadly, offering clarity in a city where reality tends to be clouded by perspective.

Our second Mitchell Retreat, on the other hand, could not have been more different. We headed to Southwest Ireland to County Kerry, spending most of our time enjoying the luxuries of the Parknasilla Resort, one of the finest in all of Ireland. Rather than touring prisons or treading through the mural-lined urban streets of Belfast, we spent most of our time taking casual nature hikes along on the Parknasilla Estate and indulging in some of the best meals of my life in Kenmare. This second retreat culminated in Dublin, where we were awarded our class rings by the Taoiseach Brian Cowen in a sort of commencement ceremony for us Mitchell Scholars at the U.S. Ambassador’s Residence in Phoenix Park. It was truly a special evening, and a great way to conclude our time of study and research here in Ireland.

Outside of the two Mitchell Retreats, my wife Kacey and I used the warmer spring weather to travel throughout Ireland and beyond. Outside of Ireland, we traveled to Spain where we played with wild monkeys in Gibraltar, took in a bullfight as part of the Feria de Abril in Seville, and marveled at the architectural genius hosted in Barcelona. We also spent considerable time in Morocco, where I was able to practice my Arabic-speaking skills while teaching Kacey how to haggle in the markets of Marrakech. Kacey and I also were thrilled to ride camels in the deserts that sit in the shadow of the Atlas Mountains, to take in the sight of snake charmers in the Marrakesh Medina, and to marvel at the sheer splendor of the Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca. Truly our time in Spain and Morocco was invaluable.

Within Ireland, we hired a car on two separate occasions in order to explore Ireland in all its glory. On our first excursion, we explored the Southeast of Ireland. The highlights of this trip were hiking the Wicklow Mountains, strolling on the white sand beaches of Brittas Bay, and standing on the rocky coastal base of Hook Head in County Wexford. Our second excursion in Ireland actually took place over this past week. In a sort of “farewell tour” we headed to the West of Ireland, and I am happy to confirm that the adage is correct: the West is the Best! The highlights of this trip for me and Kacey were horseback riding in the Ring of Kerry, watching the puffins soar in and out of the Cliffs of Moher, and, above all, dangling our torsos off the steep cliffs at Dun Aengus on Inishmore in the Aran Islands. It was truly the perfect send-off for my time here in Ireland!

As for now, my bags are completely packed. My flat in South Belfast looks nothing like the temporary home that Kacey and I had transformed it into. My flight itinerary is printed out, and my passport handy. Tomorrow just before dawn, I will be in a taxi, then a bus, and finally a series of airplanes headed home! The goal of the Mitchell Scholarship program is in large part to forge a bond between the American students that come here to Ireland and the island itself. Mission accomplished! A couple of years ago, I would never have guessed I would have spent a year of my life connecting with this magical place. But here I am, and I will never be the same because of this experience. There is a great scene in the recent blockbuster film The Curious Case of Benjamin Button to which I feel I can relate at this juncture in my life. In the scene, Benjamin Button returns to his home in New Orleans after having seen a great deal of the rest of the world. He reflects on his homecoming and notes that the strange thing about coming home is that he feels like everything that was home has changed, but in reality nothing has…In fact, it is he who has changed. I have a feeling I will soon be sharing his sentiments, as I am thrilled to return home but I realize how very much this experience has meant to me. I am forever thankful for this opportunity.

As I await my morning’s journey home, I can’t stop humming that famous rhythm and blues tune… “I’m going to Kansas City, Kansas City here I come!” I’ll see you soon!

Posted in Class of 2009, Queen's University Belfast | Tagged , , , , , , | Comments Off on June 2009 Reflection

June 2009 Reflection

Posted on June 1, 2009 by alaidman09

Throughout my undergraduate years at the Irish-centric University of Notre Dame, there was much discussion about a ‘new Ireland’—a dialogue that presumed the ongoing departure of the ‘old Ireland.’ This discourse declared that the Celtic tiger had brought wealth to Ireland, but it had also altered the face and culture of the island, so much so that a new nation emerged. The ‘old Ireland’ of Blarney castle, fiddles and tin whistles, and white-haired men in village pubs was receding into a burgeoning multicultural society marked by affluent housing developments and a rise in SUV sales. Ireland was entering the globalized elite in terms of culture and capital, a move fueled by forward-thinking citizens pushing their nation into the modern world. This entrepreneurial narrative of the ‘new Ireland’, it seems, is a rather simplified portrait of complex changes and processes occurring in Ireland over the last decade.

As my year in Ireland draws to a close, I find myself again reflecting on this new-old dialectic. For the people of Ireland, the dichotomy is often clouded with negative impressions of the ‘new’, hung upon two large areas of migration and economy. While these two matters are undoubtedly linked and intermingled in Ireland (as they are across the world), the effects of each are viewed as separate phenomena. Some traditional thinkers lament the loss of the ‘old Ireland’ and are distressed by the seemingly sudden and ever-increasing presence of so many ethnicities and cultures in what was for so long a monochromatic society. Others regret that the ‘new Ireland’ seems to be a place where consumerism beats out Ireland’s long-standing ethic of care. One Dublin cab driver eloquently lamented this shift in priorities to me, stating of his countrymen, “We were once a caring people.” But the sense is that today’s Paddys (and Patricias, no doubt) focus on themselves alone, working toward a house in the suburbs for their families and a nice car for their commutes—a familiar American dream image, really, of man striving to get ahead.

Despite these common lamentations of a changing demographic and a lost concern for one’s neighbor (two seemingly contradictory notions that are often located in the same mind: a wariness of ‘the other’ combined with a desire for a Christian ethic), one thing is clear: the ‘new Ireland’ is far more complex than these vanguard notions allow.

After living and studying in Ireland for a year, to me, the ‘new Ireland’ is my friend Ting-Ting: despite her Chinese name and Hong Kong-born parents, she has a vast knowledge and love of Irish culture—as well as one of the most charming Dublin accents of anyone I’ve met this year. To me, the ‘new Ireland’ is a refugee I’ve befriended through my research: a young Kurdish woman who is excelling in her college studies and leading a student group on a foreign language trip to Spain next year. These are remarkable achievements for a girl who spent the first fifteen years of life in a refugee camp, never setting foot in a classroom before her arrival to Ireland just three years ago. To me, the ‘new Ireland’ is one of my classmates: a young Irishman who has never lived anywhere but his family farm near our university in Maynooth, but who has a fervent interest in anthropology and international cultures. He will live in India next year to study gender issues among Hindi women in Jaipur.

I think the best of the emergent Ireland is the widening of an outward-looking, global-thinking perspective among Ireland’s people. The ‘new Ireland’ that I have seen is rooted in a population of young people—some recently arrived to the island, some with roots in the Celtic soil for centuries—who are seeking to navigate the very real demographic and economic changes in their nation, while also preserving some treasured aspects of the ‘old.’ These individuals were not the brokers behind the Celtic tiger but they are the generation who will determine the still-changing nation’s course throughout their adult lives.

There could not have been a more interesting backdrop for my research on migration and refugees in Ireland than the constant presence of these questions about ‘Irishness’ and belonging. These matters arose largely in humorous ways for me personally, as my Irish classmates routinely chuckled and poked fun at my lack of understanding when it came to Irish phrases and slang. Some friends were playfully indignant at my total lack of Irish heritage or ancestry, giving me a window (however humorous) into the socio-politics of belonging here in Ireland.

Throughout the year, far more serious occasions arose in which Irish identity and history had to be re-visited and considered. March brought the first sectarian murders in Northern Ireland in over a decade, for instance. While just two weeks ago, a report detailing decades of abuse in schools raised questions about the Catholic Church in contemporary Irish society. These are a couple prominent examples of issues that will continue to be confronted as Ireland adjusts to its relatively new wealth and its resulting role as a global player. All of this is, of course, complicated even further by the worldwide economic downturn and its acute effects in this country.

In August, I will begin studying at New York University School of Law, where I intend to specialize in international and human rights law with a particular focus on transitional justice. It has been fascinating to live in Ireland this year—in a nation that is, in many social and economic ways, still a nation in transition. I experienced the kindness and warmth of the classic ‘old Ireland’ at every turn, while also spending much time with young people who are melding old and new—in everything from founding politically-active groups with global missions but traditional Irish names to playing fresh versions of traditional Irish songs. Of the many representations of a ‘new Ireland,’ I believe this vision should be heralded and encouraged to grow: a new generation navigating the past of their nation while continually moving forward with a global outlook. I look forward to watching where the incredible young people I have met in Ireland choose to take their nation throughout the coming decades of our lives.

Posted in Class of 2009, National University of Ireland Maynooth | Tagged , , , , , | Comments Off on June 2009 Reflection

June 2009 Reflection

Posted on June 1, 2009 by Catherine Fontana, Alumna, Class of 2009

I think, on occasion, that I’ve adjusted to Ireland. It’s the little things: freeze-dried coffee, bringing your own bag to the grocery store, being detached from e-mail access for a day – and the world not entirely stopping.

But at this point, an Irish accent will not cling to my tongue and I still haven’t grasped the concept of chicken liver spread. I leave in 1 month, 2 days. And maybe there are just some things that aren’t meant for transplants like myself. I’ve never fooled myself into thinking that I am a citizen, but I have become conveniently comforted by the feeling that Ireland has become my home.

I’ve lived all across the United States for 3 to 4 months at a time, between Boston, San Francisco, Seattle, and Tampa, for the last 3 to 4 years of my life. I’ve never called these places home, never claimed them as cities of my own. And after all this, what a lucky chance that a floating feather like myself finally fell in Dublin, Ireland.

After living here, I’ve thought differently about study abroad programs as well as my short experiences elsewhere. Months are a sliver of time – just enough for a season to change or time to be counted in weeks. A badge of honor for Dublin locals is surviving the winter winds and rains by drinking that coffee and wearing those Wellies, just to make it to a gorgeous, sun-lit summer. Because of this, I question my time in Seattle – would I have looked at the Space Needle with such awe if I accepted the skyline as my backyard, not a postcard? Would I have been a devout cyclist had I lived in San Francisco an entire year? A Red Sox fan in Boston? Worshipped the beach in Tampa Bay?

There are so many things one cannot know without living in a city for an extended period of time. And as cities bear some sort of stereotypes, we eagerly look for those upon arrival, check them off on our mental tourist list, and consider another city conquered on our world map. For this (which I see daily in Dublin), I chose not to vigorously travel throughout Western Europe this past year; I simply feared that I’d allow tour books to become to-do lists. And although I cannot live everywhere at every time in my life, I’m continuing to explore ways to tour places that will leave me with more authentic experiences.

There’s a popular need to “fit the world in a picture frame” (John Mayer, “3×5”) in this era of Facebook and flaunting. And though I’ve uploaded and sent photos, my best memories have soaked and seeped, floated and flopped in my mind as a panoramic view that no camera can capture. The memories will remain there as long as I will, outlasting whatever will replace SD chips or my iPhoto. When old friends talk, it’s not of the photos they took or the videos they tapped; it’s of their memories, of the way their minds recorded the hysterical laughs and the way she looked when she walked down the aisle and the wrong directions on the road trip and the ever-evolving pillars of life. And if that’s what it takes to adjust, I’d have to confess – Ireland has become a part of me.

In recognition of the tremendous leadership of the George J. Mitchell Scholarship program, I’d like to sincerely thank Mary Lou Hartman for every e-mail, every phone call, and every fond memory. I know Northern Ireland will greatly benefit from your talents and inspiration over the coming years.

I’d also like to thank Trina Vargo, who is the definition of “the woman, the myth, the legend.” I’ve never met a smarter, saavier woman. Thank you for honoring me with the Mitchell – and thank you for creating it. You inspire us, Trina.

This year abroad would have not been possible without the generous support of the George J. Mitchell Scholarship sponsors in United States and Ireland. Words and pages could not express my gratitude for the experience and honor you have bestowed upon me and the 2009 class of scholars. Thank you for making this year one of the most captivating experiences in my life.

Posted in Class of 2009, Trinity College Dublin | Tagged , , , , , , | Comments Off on June 2009 Reflection

June 2009 Reflection

Posted on June 1, 2009 by ljanson09

As the giants and elves of Block 12 bustled about the kitchen of our dorm flat yesterday morning, trying to clean out our things before a moving deadline at noon, Brigitta paused from packing tea boxes to suddenly channeling the old Greek philosopher, Heraclitus: “The only thing constant in our entire life is change itself,” she reminded us as she tossed another container of Hungarian tea across the room into a cardboard box. We all shrugged and nodded in response, continuing to scurry about. It is true: “Block 12 Dangerous/Giants & Elves” is no more, and our (okay, my) dream of débuting our band and cutting a record together has died—or at least been deferred, though a few days ago we did have a last ‘hurrah’ together, belting karaoke out our kitchen windows all night to the rest of the student village.

Many chapters have come to a close since I last wrote, but new passages are also in the writing. In addition to the disbanding of the Giants & Elves, classes have ended for my Peace & Conflict Studies (PCS) program, and I finally ceded the Battle of the Book Fines to the unflinching campus librarians. I attended my final French class and enjoyed a last supper with some classmates from the course. I will miss the classmates from all my courses dearly, but some of the sting from that loss is removed from the fact that our PCS course will reunite for a final night on the town this Friday.

I guess it is not so much that these phases of my life end, so much as they transform. With the end of classes, I am entering the thesis-writing phase of my master’s program at an exciting time, given the recent raids in Northern Ireland of residential brothels where Chinese women were allegedly trafficked. For my research, I hope to make contact with the individuals heading up efforts to combat such criminal networks, in Northern Ireland and elsewhere. On the language front, I continue to study French on my own, and I have the good fortune of having moved into the same dorm flat as one of my French instructors! Happy days. Also, I was inspired to begin learning Italian by an Easter trip to Rome with Vicki, where she introduced me to the wonder that is profiteroles and where we attended the St. Peter’s Easter mass given by the Pope. And what began as a temperate interest in attending the local Derry jazz festival has transformed into a craving for more fantastic jazz festivals that attract international talent, so I plan to catch the Copenhagen jazz festival in July.

The morphing of spring into summer here has opened up a host of new excursions in the outdoors. In April, my campus was transformed into a pink and white wonderland by the cherry blossom season. Eriko and I celebrated by partaking in the Japanese tradition of hanami—or cherry blossom watching—by enjoying a picnic under the blush cherry tree grove at our local fire department. The firefighters were quite surprised, as they pulled up in their large truck, to find us sitting in their yard nibbling on cookies and Japanese sweets! Eriko and I also discovered that for just a fiver and a half-hour bus ride, we can get away to Buncrana, a charming seaside town. We took a nature path along the shore there that offered breathtaking views of the ocean and the gorse-covered hills (the bright yellow bush with the remarkable aroma of coconut that coats most of the Irish countryside in springtime).

A few weeks later, Vicki and Ryan had the brilliant idea of taking a road trip north, and we three took in loads of gorse while spending a few days exploring County Donegal, particularly Glenveagh National Park. Ryan drove the rental car, while Vicki and I stayed on newborn lamb alert and shrieked with delight each time we saw one. Nowadays, I most enjoy the extra daylight hours afforded by summer; it seems that the weather here is finally catering to my nocturnal habits. I love the fact that the citizens of Derry have soaked up the warm weather we’ve been having these past few weeks, and until quite late. I went for a run the other night at 10pm, and both light and people were still to be found!

My experience as a Mitchell Scholar in Northern Ireland began with a taxi encounter, and it seems appropriate that it ends with one, as well. Yesterday, I took a day trip to Belfast, where I watched a video at Tyler’s place of his skydiving adventures and looked at photos from our final scholars’ trip to the spectacular Parknasnilla Resort in County Kerry, before we officially ended our ‘Mitchell year’ with an impressive (though bittersweet) gathering at the U.S. Ambassador’s residence in Dublin. Just before seeing Tyler, I said goodbye to Chris and Kacey, who have now returned to the States, and made off with a suitcaseful of goodies they could not take back to the U.S. with them, including Brit, a British begonia (I’m a sucker for orphaned plants). I proved myself an unfit mother, however, when I accidentally abandoned Brit on the top shelf of the sauces aisle of Belfast’s Asia Market, an enormous wholesale warehouse where I had come in search of sauce for making okonomiyaki, or Japanese pizza, on Friday nights with Eriko. After walking a mile towards the Europa bus station to try to catch a bus home in time to watch the final episode of “Britain’s Got Talent” (my friends and I succumbed to the low, delightful pleasure of judging the talent of others via instant cell phone voting), I realized my mistake and dashed back towards Asia Market, hauling my pancake mix, sausage, pasta, and chocolate-filled suitcase along behind me. All ended well, for I recovered poor Brit and caught the next bus back to Derry.
And now to my taxi experience: when I arrived back in Derry, I decided to catch a cab back to the dorms, just to be sure I would not miss the dramatic conclusion to the talent show. I hopped into the cab of a trusty company that normally serves the dorms, Derry Taxis. In the short drive, the friendly driver and I marveled at the unbelievable sunshine and tropical weather we have experienced for the past several days here in Derry, and he commented that he appreciates the laid-back nature of Derry people, especially in comparison to the bustle-hustle attitudes of people in larger cities, such as Belfast and Dublin, or in larger countries, such as America. He explained the philosophy of Derry Taxis: the point is not simply to get you from Point A to Point B, but to enjoy the journey, as well. This is why the Derry drivers ‘slag’ (joke around with/make fun of) the students they transport, he explained. As the driver spun us around the final roundabout before catching the road for my dorms, he looked at me. “We’ve only got one life, you know? You only get ONE BITE of that cherry,” he said holding up his pointer finger for emphasis, “and if you don’t enjoy it…you’re finished!”

When Mary Lou asked us to decide on our specific return dates to the States, I realized that I am loving the experience of living in Europe far too much to cut it short of a full year. I had not planned to stay in Ireland so long, but my year in Northern Ireland—with all of its spur-of-the-moment trips throughout Europe (thanks to Vicki’s fine leadership), last-minute marathons, new languages, unexpected gorse and cherry blossoms, novel culinary delights (namely brown bread, homemade apple tarts, and the famous Ulster Fry), completely new field of Peace and Conflict Studies, wandering jogs, and spontaneous friendships across generational and cultural divides—has made me appreciate the idea of embracing something unexpected. And sometimes, something that was not in my ‘plans’ may actually generate the most joy and personal growth in life. Perhaps this is the reason why, when my taxi driver pulled up to Block 7 of the student village where I now live, I stayed in the cab chatting with him for a good while, though it made me late for my date with Simon Cowell. If people like my taxi driver yesterday have taught me anything, it is that sometimes, you just shouldn’t miss an opportunity for some good craic simply because something else was on the agenda.

I am so thankful to be able to remain in Ireland until September, and I hope to revel in my final three months here to the fullest—the incredible opportunity provided by Trina, Mary Lou, and the U.S.-Ireland Alliance has opened me to people, places, and ideas that have deeply impacted how I see the world and my place in it, beyond the blithe concept of ‘craic.’ I am sure this transformative process will continue, even after I am finally kicked off of this gorgeous, endearing island.

Posted in Class of 2009, University of Ulster | Tagged , , , , , | Comments Off on June 2009 Reflection

June 2009 Reflection

Posted on June 1, 2009 by jdillard09

Right now, I am listening to “I Dreamed a Dream” from Les Miserables. Do you remember when Susan Boyle sang it in Glasgow and shocked the world? I was sitting with my Irish and British friends, all of us breaking into uncontrollable giggles at the thought of a forty-seven year old performing on Britain’s Got Talent. Then, she opened her mouth and the room fell silent. As she performed, I listened intently to the words in the first verse. “I dreamed a dream and time gone by . . . no song unsung, no wine untasted . . .” When she sang the same words in the final at the end of May, I became nostalgic about my past year in Ireland and the United Kingdom. I reminisced about a dream I had two years ago, a dream to study, to travel, and to live somewhere, anywhere, other than the United States. It was a dream that, at the time, I thought was beyond the scope of possibilities.

While Susan Boyle sang, I remembered sitting at my desk at the UN World Food Programme in 2007 and intensely searching the Internet for opportunities. The first scholarship that I came across was the infamous “Rhodes”. If you are reading this journal as a potential Mitchell applicant, you have probably checked both the Rhodes and Marshall websites and met with your campus director for international scholarships and fellowships. You have learned the drill: write and edit a compelling personal statement, gather an obscene number of recommendations and transcripts, and hope for the best. I suspect that, for the Mitchell, you have been advised to visit all the Irish and Northern Irish university websites to find a programme that “fits” your interests, a course that you must somehow align with past campus activities and accomplishments. But, while I am confident in your abilities and intentions in applying, I am concerned that you haven’t completely grasped the effect such an experience potentially has. How can you? Before you attend another practice interview on your campus or hopefully appear before the Mitchell Scholarship Panel in November, consider how the Mitchell has left an indelible mark on my life.

First and foremost, the education that I received at the Queen’s University-Belfast School of Law far exceeded my expectations. For me, the LL.M. in Human Rights Law was a challenging course, one that unarguably provided me with the academic qualifications and professional skills necessary to work for a human rights organisation in Europe. More importantly, pursuing the LL.M. solidified my decision to remain in the United Kingdom to practice law. In two months, I will be attending the University of Edinburgh to commence an accelerated two-year law degree. Without the generous support of the Mitchell Scholarship, I would have neither realised this dream nor had the resources necessary to achieve it.

Through the Mitchell Scholarship, I was able to pursue a postgraduate education under professors who had worked with an impressive list of human rights organisations: the Northern Ireland Human Rights Commission, the United Nations Working Group on Minorities, the Northern Ireland Commissioner for Children and Young Persons, the Inter American Court of Human Rights, the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, the Council of Europe and Organisation for Security and Cooperation in Europe, and the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia. While their resumes appear intimidating, the professors displayed a keen interest in not only teaching but also befriending me. Aware of my status as a Mitchell Scholar, they often invited me to meet their friends and families over dinner or a pint of Guinness.

Another exceptional experience has been establishing relationships with the Irish and Northern Irish people. Over the past year, my Irish and British friends have introduced me to British reality television, taken me on countless tours of pubs, and often snuggled up next to me in front of a good movie. My companions have integrated me to the point of teaching me Irish and British words and phrases that, combined with my Alabama accent, seem to amuse them. I still haven’t worked out why . . .

In eleven months, I have become a member of the Belfast community. To me, it is a unique place, one where the living and the dead are in a state of perpetual conflict. Whether I am studying, travelling, or working, I frequently see the living trying to develop their own society while still being constrained by the memories and context of the past. The two conflicting socio-political groups, the Catholic Republicans and the Protestant Loyalists, each suffer from the knowledge of their own origins, the former compelled by past conflicts with their British occupiers and the desire for a united Irish state and the latter aware of their previous role as a colonialist ruling class in Ireland that reigned supreme prior to the Irish Rebellion of 1916. Through my internship with the Equality Commission for Northern Ireland, I have seen first hand the vestiges of these “Troubles”. This too has contributed to my decision to live here, to work here, to make a difference here through my knowledge of and passion for human rights.

It has been more than eighteen months since Mary Lou phoned to tell me that I was a Mitchell Scholar. I can honestly write that I have made the most of the opportunity . . . no sung unsung, no wine untasted. As you are reading this, I hope that you realise how the Mitchell Scholarship can change your life. It is through this programme that I received an unparalleled postgraduate education, discovered who and what I want to be in life, and fulfilled a dream that I certainly did not allow to pass me by.

Posted in Class of 2009, Queen's University Belfast | Tagged , , , , , , | Comments Off on June 2009 Reflection

March 2009 Reflection

Posted on March 1, 2009 by tgreen09

I really really want to believe that we have free will. I want to be able to look at a menu and know that some little part of me could choose what dish I want (usually dishes….rowing takes a lot of calories). I even learned quantum mechanics and about quantum theories of consciousness in a desperate and vain attempt to find mechanisms for consciousness. I’m stuck.

Here’s the problem. To say that an entity has free will, you need two things: multiple possible outcomes, and what’s called “volitional control,” basically choice between them. There’s good evidence that the universe at its smallest scale is purely probabilistic, meaning that the location of any small particle is a probability distribution over a given area, like throwing a set of rainbow colored marbles into a box and asking where the red one is. The brain is really good at stretching and amplifying small changes into big actions, meaning that any given situation could lead to multiple possible outcomes, but we still lack a way to choose between them. This is where cognitive scientists, philosophers, neuroscientists, and others start to get creative linguistically to hide some sort of separate conscious mind in their papers. Mind is a lot like the Renaissance ether gluing the world together: nobody has found evidence that it’s there. Without the discovery of a non-illusory mind, we can’t freely choose.

If we can’t freely choose, then something else must determine what option will be chosen. At the risk of seeming obvious, what seems to happen is that people look for information (usually that which confirms any biases we have), and use that information to make decisions. This means that decisions can only be made when sufficient data have been gathered, and if those data are not sufficient when a decision is forced, we fill in with guesses. But, there are times where we feel unsatisfied with those guesses, either from lack of experience or because we’re making way too many.

Let’s say you’re like me and a 22 year old looking to make decisions to maximize my future utility/health/wealth/love/happiness/whatever. Any of thousands of mutually exclusive choices can be argued for because no good data, or at least not enough, can be gathered today to grade any decision made. We feel adrift and anxious because there is no clear choice (5th grade, college, a promotion, etc.), so we constantly question those decisions. We also constantly search for more choices, thinking that adding options will yield a clear winner, actions that often seem to leave us deeper in paradox than when we started.

Maybe I’m a cynic, but there’s no free will as far as I can tell, and the discrepancy between our illusion of it and our ability to gather the information necessary to satisfy the brain’s decision making system leads to a whole host of problems.

Posted in Class of 2009, University College Dublin | Tagged , , , , , | Comments Off on March 2009 Reflection

March 2009 Reflection

Posted on March 1, 2009 by Catherine Fontana, Alumna, Class of 2009

t’s 8:36 pm GMT on the Sunday before St. Patrick’s Day here in Dublin. Nine days ago, I accepted my offer to Yale University’s School of Forestry and Environmental Studies where I’ll pursue a Ph.D. in microbial ecology.

It was 4:30 pm on a Tuesday afternoon in August at Albion College when I made my final decision to apply for the George J. Mitchell Scholarship. After talking through my decision with one of my college housemates, Maria, she said the words that have comforted me in my most delicate ambitions: “Just see what happens.”

When I submitted my application, I didn’t understand the extent of the impact the scholarship would have on me and how quickly it would transform my life. Frequently – and by that, I mean daily – I look back on my short, seemingly insignificant conversation with Maria when I was a senior at Albion. In just one and a half years, my life has changed in so many good, unexpected ways, all because of the experiences and opportunities provided by the Mitchell.

This past February, our Mitchell class had the distinct honor of meeting Senator George J. Mitchell before he flew to the Middle East to fulfill his responsibilities as Special Envoy. From our hour and a half conversation with him, I understand two incredibly important aspects of the Mitchell scholarship. First, although Senator Mitchell spoke of hegemony, and fear, and mistrust, these ideas appeared to dissipate in the room: we Mitchells were in the presence of a maker, creator, believer in true peace. In our short time with him, I came to more deeply understand and hope to incorporate the idea that peace must originate within a peaceful person. And in a world of conflict such as ours, peace is not the first response to violence or disagreement. Second, our scholarship bears the name of George J. Mitchell, a man who has humbly pursued his duties to his country and to our international society, for a reason. When asked if he ever sought these positions as a peace negotiator, Mitchell replied with a smile and admitted that we are all asked of certain responsibilities in our various societies, and, more importantly, it is our role as a global citizen to use our talents for the betterment of humanity. The Mitchell Scholarship is unlike many postgraduate scholarships because it requires its recipients to pledge themselves to a lifetime of humble, honest growth and giving. I’m realizing this more than ever as my final five months in Ireland are upon me.

I can’t say that I’ve seen the cycle full circle – I perhaps never will. I’ve seen what happens in just one year and six months but I cannot even anticipate the cascading effects this scholarship, this isle, and these scholars will have on my life. Instead, I’ve come to embrace the tenets of the Mitchell scholarship as the duties of my life, wherever it takes me, as it took Senator Mitchell.

Posted in Class of 2009, Trinity College Dublin | Tagged , , , , , , | Comments Off on March 2009 Reflection

March 2009 Reflection

Posted on March 1, 2009 by jcanto09

Taking Ryan’s advice in Journal # 2, I’ve started doing some more walking in an effort to find all the cul-de-sacs of University College Dublin (UCD). Health-benefits aside, being a peripatetic student can lead to some interesting discoveries.

One such walk has actually inspired me to write a paper. On a walk throughout UCD’s Arts Block, I found an interesting department tucked aside, called the Irish Folklore Collection. Upon opening the door, I walked into a sociologist’s dream: shelves and shelves of transcripts, audiotapes, and records documenting Ireland’s richest cultural traditions. The Irish Folklore Collection was the work of Seán Ó Súilleabháin in the early 20th century. With the support of the Irish Government, Ó Súilleabháin went out to the far reaches of Ireland to create a ‘treasure-house of fact and fancy, of ritual and observance, custom and belief’ of the Irish (in A Handbook of Irish Folklore). I needed to write a paper for my Qualitative Research Methods course so I began digging out the transcripts.

Travis Green challenged us all in his Journal #1 to encounter something new while in Ireland. Be that a new region of the world, a different culture, or a fresh standpoint. I never have done research in gender and feminist studies and thought that maybe this would be a good chance to try something different. After listening to a few tapes and reading some articles, I picked a paper topic exploring the socialization of girls into Catholic mothers and the pleasures and pains of growing up into such a powerful—yet restrictive—role in early 20th century Ireland.

Another such walk led me by accident into a lecture by Nobel-laureate Desmond Tutu. His lively talk touched upon some of the most pressing problems of our day, including the tug-of-wars between Hamas and Israeli, Iran and the United States, and Mugabe and Tsvangirai in Zimbabwe. When asked what was needed to end these conflicts, Tutu said that the answer was simple: ‘there is no future without forgiveness.’

A few weeks later, I met Senator George J. Mitchell for the first time. He talked to us at length on his work towards the Good Friday Agreement in 1998 and emphasized that what will lead to a lasting peace in Northern Ireland is not simply dried ink on a peace treaty, but peoples’ willingness to forgive each other despite the years of hate and bloodshed. The future of Northern Ireland depends on forgiveness.

Forgiveness is a tough concept for many people these days. My weekly Lenten reflections on Tutu and Mitchell’s lives have given me ample time to reflect on such a simple, yet difficult, concept. Despite the recent murders of British soldiers in Northern Ireland, it is moving to see religious leaders of both the Catholic and Protestant churches speak of peace and reconciliation in a time of great anger and fear. I’ve always believed that it is better to live a sermon than listen to one, and the life of Derry’s Richard Moore—founder of the non-profit Children in the Crossfire—is a case-in-point. Blinded by a rubber bullet at age 12 during the Troubles, Richard recently met with the soldier who shot him to say he had no more hatred towards him and has since started a meaningful friendship with the retired officer. His example of forgiveness is a tough one to match, but one that we all—and especially Mitchell Scholars—must attempt to live out in our own ways so that tomorrow is a bit more peaceful than it is today.

Posted in Class of 2009, University College Dublin | Tagged , , , , , , | Comments Off on March 2009 Reflection

March 2009 Reflection

Posted on March 1, 2009 by alaidman09

“He’s asking if you know about Michael Collins…?”

Surprised, I looked down at the wide eyes of a 9-year-old boy who just landed at the Dublin airport with his family–Ireland’s newest programme refugees. His question, the first thing he asked in the arrivals hall, was relayed to me through an interpreter. As I answered him, I’m sure my look of amazement rivaled his own. He was eagerly taking in the sights of his new nation, while I was imagining how a child fleeing a conflicted home in the Middle East had learned about a revolutionary Irishman from an earlier century. (The answer: an Arabic television station played Liam Neeson’s portrayal of Michael Collins with frequency in the weeks before St. Patrick’s Day, and the family watched repeatedly to learn about Ireland.)

I met this boy and his family upon their arrival to Ireland through my research internship in the Office of the Minister for Integration, where I work with a team of civil servants who annually resettle 200 UN programme refugees. Most of the refugees arrive in large groups, forty to eighty at a time, while several single families are also selected for resettlement in Ireland each year. During my time in the Office, I’ll participate in the spectrum of resettlement processes: from meeting families in the first moments and days of arrival to meeting with those who have now lived in the country for a decade.

Welcoming this family as they landed at the airport was especially poignant, as the week they arrived also held a meeting with Senator George Mitchell. While this family came to Ireland from the Middle East, Senator Mitchell headed in the opposite direction—stopping briefly in Ireland before returning to Jerusalem to continue his work on the Israel-Palestine conflict. The opportunity to speak with Senator Mitchell about his work and his personal background will undoubtedly be one of the most remarkable experiences of the year. His generosity in sharing his time and insights with my class of Scholars is something none of us will soon forget.

While Senator Mitchell’s work in Ireland and the Middle East has focused on conflicts that are centuries old, my work with refugees in Ireland places me among new issues arising, with diversity of every kind continually increasing here. Throughout the economic downturn of the last months, Ireland continues to change. Sadly, some traditional features on the island may be lost to the financial crisis – not the least of which is the Waterford Crystal factory.

After the company that owns Waterford Crystal announced bankruptcy in February, the artisans of the factory remained, occupying the plant in hopes of a bailout by the Irish government. A New York Times blog article reported that while production had ceased, the workers were continuing to offer tours to visitors that arrived at the factory (an attraction that has drawn three hundred thousand tourists to the factory annually in recent years). My fellow scholar Catherine and I decided to head down to Waterford, both to visit the city and to take advantage of what might be our last chance to see the crystal factory. But upon arrival, we could see this wasn’t going to be a typical visit. The visitor centre was adorned with protest signs and slogans from the workers’ union. The chalkboards in the visitor café, rather than announce the day’s menu, declared “United we stand, divided we fall.”

During our visit, our impromptu tour was led by the man who personally cuts the designs onto some famous athletic prizes, from the Ryder Cup to the highest trophies in the NFL, NHL and NBA. Like many of the artists at Waterford, he has worked there for three decades. His explanations of how the process of shaping and cutting crystal was therefore a detailed one, impressing upon us what a loss to Ireland the permanent closure of Waterford Crystal would be. While American investors have purchased the Waterford name, it remains to be seen whether the factory and visitor centre will remain in Ireland—or if production will be moved elsewhere to cut costs. Our visit was enjoyable, despite the atmosphere of an uncertain future that hung over the place.

While doing any tourist activity in Ireland, there is always an element of uncertainty. Typically, it’s not about economic survival, but simply about the weather. My Irish classmates always take pleasure in reminding me, if I’m ever less than thrilled with a rainy afternoon, of an old saying: If you don’t like the weather, wait ten minutes. The truth of this statement was demonstrated all too clearly when I took a couple visiting American friends to Powerscourt House and Gardens – a beautiful old estate south of Dublin in the Wicklow mountains. The gardens are old-style Italian, Japanese and French designs that stretch for acres and are absolutely green and beautiful. But in the two hours we spent at Powerscourt, we also saw the whole place blanketed in white. In a matter of minutes, it rained, snowed, hailed and finally, returned to blue sunny skies. So, typical for Ireland, we experienced Powerscourt in all four seasons—all in the course of one afternoon.

I’m now looking forward to visiting Belfast at the end of the month with all the Mitchell Scholars, to meet with political and community leaders and revisit the rich and troubled history of the city. In light of the tragic acts of violence in Northern Ireland in the last two weeks, I imagine our discussions of past, present and future with leaders in Belfast will be both difficult and enlightening.

Posted in Class of 2009, National University of Ireland Maynooth | Tagged , , , , , | Comments Off on March 2009 Reflection

March 2009 Reflection

Posted on March 1, 2009 by atart09

Wow, where to begin… I left off my last “Reflection on Ireland” with anticipation of all the new activities I could enjoy after my shoulder healed, so I suppose I should start by saying now that my shoulder has healed (from its dislocation during my second week in Ireland), I have been even more thoroughly enjoying my time here on the Emerald Isle than before! This is due largely to the following three factors:

1) I am no longer injured.

2) I am actively participating in the UCC Ultimate Frisbee Club, which is loads of fun and provides a great opportunity to meet people and travel around the country (for tournaments).

3) I am actively participating in the UCC Mountaineering Club.

I think the third one is perhaps the most important. If there is one thing I can recommend above all else to do with your time in Ireland, it is to join the mountaineering club (if one exists at your university)! The experiences with the club have so far been absolutely, incredibly, superbly rewarding. So far I’ve gotten to hike up the Galtee Mountains in Ireland’s “Golden Vale” region, Purple Mountain in the Macgillycuddy’s Reeks in County Kerry, and the Knockmealdown Mountains on the border of Counties Tipperary and Waterford. Each hike I go on, I fall in love with the country more and more, as the views from the mountain tops overlooking the Irish countryside below are some of the most breathtaking, inspiring, and, dare I say, magical sights I have ever seen.

But it is not just the rewarding views that make the Mountaineering Club so wonderful. Rather, the fact that each hike is more of an expedition/adventure/bonding-experience carries more weight in my high opinion of the Club. Unlike the hikes that I’m used to (mostly in the Southeast and on the Appalachian Trail), the hikes here have no trails, no trailblazes, no paths. I couldn’t believe my ears on the first hike when the guy leading the group looked at his map, looked to the top of the mountain, looked back at his map, then looked up and said “Well, I guess we’re just going to have to find some way across this river here and then go up whichever way gets us to the top.”

This adventurous spirit, combined with the relentless rain and the ubiquitous bog-like terrain, makes the hikes more like expeditions than hikes. (In fact, on that same first hike, we got so high up the mountain that the rain turned into hail, and the wind was literally blowing people off the mountain. We had to huddle behind a rock for thirty minutes to stay warm until the storm passed!) After trudging through six to eight hours of bog, rain, hail, wind, rain, stunning views, fresh air, rain, and more rain, we then all head to a nearby pub to enjoy great conversations over some Guinness or Murphy’s.(Murphy’s is a stout local to Cork, even tastier than Guinness in my opinion! If you ever come across it, give it a try!) It’s almost like once per week heaven comes down to Earth for a day.

Well, now my journal entry looks like one big advertisement for the Mountaineering Club. But I can’t stress enough how awesome it is and how much it has made me feel like I’ve been enjoying this country to its fullest!

Of course, I’m making sure to enjoy the other countries in Europe to the fullest, too. I have done so in particular by undertaking one of my greatest achievements to date: a roadtrip across Europe. Over the Christmas break, Jose (one of the other Mitchell Scholars) and I joined one of his friends, Berni (who is from Vienna), on a journey from Dublin to Vienna, a distance spanning more than 2100 km, and a trip covering a total of ten countries! We took a ferry from Dublin to Wales, then drove through Wales to England. We explored London for a day, then left from London to Dover (as in, the Cliffs of Dover!) where we boarded another ferry to Dunkirk, France. Then we drove through France, Belgium, the Netherlands, Germany (where we got to experience the glory that is the autobahn), and finally Austria (Salzburg, precisely). Six countries in one day! Wow! Then we explored Salzburg for a day before driving to Berni’s home in Vienna, where his mother made us homemade Kaiserschmarrn, and then Wiener Schnitzel the next night. Berni drove us to Bratislava, Slovakia the following day where Jose and I said goodbye to him and caught a flight to Rome, where we had the delight of seeing the Pope come out on the balcony to say Merry Christmas! Then the following day, I was off to the Netherlands. My girlfriend flew over, too, and we got to celebrate the New Year in Amsterdam!

All I can say is: Phew! What a trip… A roadtrip is DEFINITELY the best way (at least that I’ve come across so far) to see Europe. We got to see so many different countries and cultures and had so much freedom in our travels. Three straight weeks of living out of one carry-on-sized bag with great company and plenty of sites seen and fun had… It was an irreplaceable, simply fantastic experience.

Now a new semester is upon me, and it’s back to school and homework. I’ve got plenty of adventures left ahead of me, though: Venice with my girlfriend for Valentine’s day, ten more hikes with the Mountaineering Club, trips planned to Switzerland, Sweden, and Portugal, and plenty more Murphy’s to be had in Cork’s many wonderful pubs. Hopefully my next “Reflection” journal entry will be even more exciting than this one! Slainte!

Posted in Class of 2009 | Tagged , , , , , | Comments Off on March 2009 Reflection

March 2009 Reflection

Posted on March 1, 2009 by erhoda09

It was springtime, and my junior high band, from D.R. Gaul Middle School in Union, Maine, was having a concert at a school an hour away in Waterville, Maine. I don’t remember much of the concert except that it was in a dimly-lit gym.

On the ride home, the bus driver got lost. “We’re just taking a different route!” my conductor said, and by his tone I knew that we’d taken a wrong turn. The other students perked up, looked at each other, and started whispering excitedly. I settled into my seat, with my knees on the one in front of me, and stared out the window. It was a sunny day, and I liked being lost; it was freeing.

The road skirted Colby College, and I remember—very clearly—the green lawns and feeling of openness. Colby is known for its hillocks: mounds of grass-covered earth that resemble steps. Maybe the other students on the bus ohhh-ed at the hillocks leading up to the library—because that area is often photographed and used on postcards, catalogues, and calendars, and this would have been the first time most of us had ever seen Colby—but I don’t specifically remember that part of campus. What I remember, even after more than ten years, is passing what I would later learn were Mary Low and Foss dorms and seeing a student, blonde, barefoot, in a long pink dress, walking down a set of stairs, toward the road. There are hillocks here, too, and people played Frisbee on them. A man strummed his guitar, and a group nearby kicked up a hacky sack.

The scene entered my palette of ideals, and, even before I learned more about its academics, Colby became my “dream school.” About four years after that bus trip, when I was a senior in high school, my mother watched as I opened an envelope from Colby. I burst into tears.

“It’s OK, Erin. It doesn’t matter,” my mother said. “There are other schools.”

But I was crying because I’d been accepted.

For three of my years at Colby, I lived in one of the dorms my band bus had passed: Mary Low. And, nearly every day, I walked down the steps that I’d momentarily seen the girl in the pink dress step down.

Starting sophomore year and continuing until I graduated, I also worked at an elementary school in Waterville called the George J. Mitchell School. In Sherril Saulter’s second-grade classroom, I helped teach small groups of children, usually with reading or spelling. George Mitchell is originally from Waterville, and, although I’d heard his name before, I’d never given him much thought. I wouldn’t learn about the George J. Mitchell scholarship until later.

Maybe it was because of the name of the elementary school that I paused when I saw one of George Mitchell’s quotes online. It happened when I was at Colby, and I don’t remember where I saw it, but it struck me. I wrote it down in a little black notebook in which I stored interesting sayings, and, like the image of the girl walking down the steps, his words stayed in my head: “Real fulfillment in your life will come not from leisure, nor from idleness, nor from self-indulgence, but rather from striving with all your physical and spiritual might for a worthwhile objective.”

Before and after receiving this incredible scholarship, I gradually learned more about George Mitchell and his impact on local Maine and people close to me. I learned that he once attended a steak and bean dinner in my hometown of Washington (population 1,300). I learned he was familiar with one of my neighbors, who once ran for state legislature. When I tell people in Maine about the scholarship, they unfailingly respond with something upbeat, such as: “I’ve always admired how George Mitchell worked for peace in Northern Ireland,” “Some senator, huh?” or, “If anyone can bring peace in the Middle East, it’s George.”

So, in February, it was an honor to meet George Mitchell with the other Mitchell scholars. I was thrilled to hear his slight Maine accent. We discussed his role in the Middle East, the peace process in Northern Ireland, and his background growing up in Maine, and I learned—of all things—that he did yard work at Colby for a summer after he graduated from Bowdoin College and that he had helped construct those hillocks by Mary Low and Foss dorms.

I thought of how appropriate it was for this leader to have built such a base and structure out of dirt, to have had a hand in the labor, to have created something that lasted and became a part of the campus’s identity, and which was, essentially, a gathering place. It seems he’s spent his life doing this—shaping the earth.

It’s appropriate, too, how something as simple as constructing a lawn aligned itself with my education and future. It reminds me that what we do affects others and that we never know when, perhaps unconsciously or unintentionally, we might alter other people’s visions of the world and themselves in it. Sometimes, as well, it’s good to be lost because it opens up avenues that were previously impossible.

Posted in Class of 2009, Trinity College Dublin | Tagged , , , , , , | Comments Off on March 2009 Reflection

March 2009 Reflection

Posted on March 1, 2009 by jdillard09

I am currently locked away in my office at the Equality Commission, reflecting on my past seven days in Rome. When law school grades were posted in mid-February, I decided to celebrate by traveling alone to the Eternal City. The trip concerned my closest friends and actually frightened my family. From the time my mother first heard “Missing child, three years old, aisle three” over the intercom until today, she has been fearful of my self-proclaimed “internal compass”. Before repeating “I love you” three times, she prayed with me over the phone and asked God to guide me on what she described as an “arduous journey for a directionally challenged young man”. But, I was not offended. This was neither the first nor the last prayer request that I had frequently heard over the past fifteen years. After ending our conversation with a solemn “Amen”, I finished packing my carry-on bag, taxied to the Belfast International Airport, and embarked on a voyage that has undoubtedly left an indelible mark on my life. Without the generous support of the George J. Mitchell Scholarship Program, such an experience would not have been possible.

Being in Rome, I certainly did as the Romans. I stood amidst the remains of the Roman Forum and marveled at one of the greatest wonders of Roman civilization: the Colosseum. I attended mass at the finest of the churches of Rome, the Basilica di San Paolo Fuori Le Mura (St. Paul’s Outside the Walls) built over the tomb of St. Paul. I visited the Basilica di Santa Maria Maggiore, the fourth largest church in Rome and the principle church dedicated to the Virgin Mary. In one instance, I became lost and unknowingly entered the Basilica di San Pietro in Vincoli that boasts Michelangelo’s masterpiece, Moses, and the famous chains that imprisoned St. Peter during the reign of Herod. I tossed ten pence into the sumptuous Trevi Fountain to ensure my return to Rome. At dusk one afternoon, I sipped wine and ate cheeses in a hidden park that provided a breathtaking view of the Eternal City. During my visit to the Pantheon, it began to rain and I watched the water descend through the oculus and in the concave areas. I shopped along the posh via Condotti that ended at the front of the Spanish steps. I walked to the top of St. Peter’s Basilica and looked out over the awe-inspiring Vatican City. I practiced my limited Italian in pizzerias and bars, constantly pursuing opportunities to interact with the unique culture and people. Traveling alone with a map in hand proved to be the most valuable experience and one that I will cherish for the rest of my life. It was also a productive excursion as I edited my book and finalized my dissertation topic.

Over the next six months, I will be studying and interviewing homosexual asylum seekers in the United States, the United Kingdom, the Netherlands and Australia. As a “particular social group” under the 1951 International Convention Related to the Status of Refugees, lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) individuals have increasingly sought asylum in countries that are more tolerant towards people of diverse sexual orientations and gender identities. I will consider legislative developments in the four countries and analyze the regional jurisprudence related to LGBT refugees. After examining the extant case law, I will assess each State’s application of international norms related to refugees and its translation of these standards in cases of LGBT asylum seekers.

While I have undoubtedly enjoyed my research in the area of sexual orientation-related rights and my travel experience as a single chap, I have simultaneously missed my fellow scholars. I have been overwhelmed with responsibilities: impending coursework, discrimination claims at the Equality Commission, and negotiation talks with landlords for an apartment in the fall. Therefore, I haven’t been able to travel to Dublin and Galway as regularly as I did last semester. A few scholars, however, have visited Belfast to grab dinner and a pint. As Lara was meeting with my dissertation supervisor in regards to her impressive work in human trafficking, she stopped by my room for “a tea and a chat” and brought along delectable wafers and Belgian chocolate bars. She was aware that I had two 6,000-word essays due the next day and I thanked her for her thoughtfulness. But, the gesture was certainly not surprising. Such a random act of kindness is a common occurrence within our close-knit group. The Mitchell scholarship is definitely unique among other international scholarships and fellowships in that our Mitchell community is smaller than its Rhodes and Marshall counterparts. As a result, I have interacted with each scholar on an individual basis, providing me with invaluable opportunities to learn his or her strengths, weaknesses, and vulnerabilities. In my most recent journal, I spoke rather enthusiastically about my law school class. Perhaps this was due to looming examinations and papers. However, the Mitchell community is the group where I have drawn strength, encouragement and passion. If you are reading this journal as a recently selected scholar or a prospective applicant, understand that the Mitchell Scholarship program will offer you every possible resource to achieve your goals while on this Island. You will potentially reach the pinnacle of your pursuits within a supportive environment conducive to academic, professional and social development.

I can hardly believe that my Mitchell experience is nearly over. It is both exciting yet sad. If I hadn’t received this scholarship, I wouldn’t have developed my interests at such an early stage in my life. The Mitchell program has encouraged my decision to remain in Northern Ireland and the United Kingdom to work for a human rights organization. I may apply for a Ph.D. in Law at numerous universities throughout the Ireland and the UK. But whatever I do, I know that this is the place where I want to build my career, my life and my family.

As a future scholar, please do not arrive to Ireland with your plans firmly established. Two months ago, I was determined to return to the States to write my Master’s dissertation and to start law school in the fall 2009. But, after being here for eight months, I realize that Northern Ireland is where I need and want to be for the next few years. That is not to say that I will never return to the States nor does it mean that I will not earn a J.D. from an American law school. But, it does mean that, with the support of the Mitchell Scholarship program, I have discovered a place I can confidently and comfortably call “home”.

Posted in Class of 2009, Queen's University Belfast | Tagged , , , , , , | Comments Off on March 2009 Reflection