Happy Easter!

Easter never used to be one of my favorite holidays, but over the years of "adulthood", I've really started to value it more and more. In the Christian sense, its a holiday about triumph over suffering, pain, and (especially for Mary Magdalene) total loss. When you think everything has been taken from you--even the body of a beloved teacher--suddenly all that pain is conquered by a new life that defies all common sense. In the 'pagan' sense, Easter celebrates the return of spring, and the time when the earth shakes back to life, wakes up as if out of a dream. In a consumerist sense, it's a great excuse for some amazing chocolate, and although a lot of people rail against the "consumerising" of Easter, I take a great deal of childish pleasure out of my Cadbury eggs and chocolate bunnies. Honestly, I don't see anything wrong with that, because the little bit of childish delight over chocolate is in my mind a token of the joy that comes along with renewed life. It's not the whole thing of it, at least, so there's no reason to reject it.

Since it's about new life, Easter is also a good day to set new resolutions, since by now all the new year's resolutions from January have obviously been tossed out the window. I figure it's best to set resolutions for a maximum of six months anyhow, since that's really the length of my attention span. At least for the next few weeks, I want to make an effort to be more present with my time. While I was trying to make a decision over graduate school, I got overwhelmed and let other things take over my life, so that I wasn't using my personal time to actually rejuvenate. Mostly I was just sleeping or watching tv or just fretting over school. So, I guess, as I celebrate new life, I also am making a commitment to it, so that I can be a little bit more present. (Baby steps, though, the real goal is to actually be awake BEFORE I get on my bus in the morning, thus spending the morning preparing for the day instead of desperately trying to cram in more sleep.)

I went to church with my mum at the Minneapolis Episcopal Cathedral (St. Marks) which is just a great church. I'm looking forward to getting more involved this summer, because in addition to that traditional-ness that I like, it's also deeply involved in community service and education.

So over the past few weeks I've been deeply ingrained in a decision-making process, which is almost, but not entirely, finished. I had some serious things to consider, a lot of inspiration, some things that let me down, and what I think will be blessings in disguise.

I took a trip to visit both Harvard Divinity School and the University of Chicago Divinity School in the first week of April. I learned a lot about my situation when I visited the schools, and I gained a lot of insight into why I was so nervous.

The first of these concerns was that I wanted an applied degree. I had originally applied for an academic degree, arguing that I wanted to study Islam so that our public better understood it, and so that I could search out stories that had been untouched. As I looked at tuition bills, course schedules, and degree requirements, though, I really felt like I didn't want to do all that. I did want to know more about the Qur'an, and I wanted to speak Arabic, and I wanted to study the history, but my biggest concern was that I wanted to do it in context, and I was deeply concerned that the degree I was pursuing would not allow me the time or the consideration to put my studies to use in our world today. The work that I do at the Women's Center empowers me and is a huge part of what I believe is healthy community involvement. It isn't the end-all-be-all, but it did teach me that academic inquiry is the gateway to becoming all of myself, not the final goal.

So the first thing that I learned about my trip was the most definitive: I want an applied degree, and I want a Master of Divinity.

At Harvard I felt really excited about all the amazing things that were happening there. It felt really amazing to be around other people who were passionate about the same things as me. But, what I gained from Harvard was a renewed passion and a sincere reality check: when I had my discussion with the financial aid director, it became very clear that taking on the necessary debt would be a very irresponsible thing to do. I left the school knowing that there was absolutely no way, but more importantly, I felt inspired in some ways, because I knew now more than ever what I wanted to do.

So I visited the University of Chicago, and the mood was extremely different. A much more academic school, its goal is really to prepare students to become professors. I struggled through some of the Master of Arts discussion, then went into the Dean of Students office, and said, point blank: "I think I want an MDiv instead." Her response was: "YES! Of course! I knew that as soon as you asked that question in the forum..."

And in some ways, that was really want sealed the deal. I had a discussion with the Director of Ministry Studies, went to an MDiv dinner at her home with the other prospective and current students, and listened to a little bit of what they were doing. I wasn't madly in love with the program or the school, but I had a much more realistic connection with Chicago than I had with Harvard: the program was close, sincere, and devoted to what they were doing. The faculty were close with the students, and field work was a major priority for MDiv students. Financially, the environment was more sound because I knew that I could earn my living expenses, partially because they were more reasonable, and because more students worked. I was also really inspired by Chicago itself and the neighborhood that the school was in. I did not feel as though I was in an elitist place, nor did I feel too 'unrefined' to exist in that world. It had a sense of authenticity that I really felt good about.

When I returned home, my major decision was not between schools. It was between taking the opportunity in front of me at Chicago, or staying another year in Minneapolis working for the community that is important to me here. It was between taking on new debt, or waiting before I incured more. It was about going through an open door, or waiting to see what other doors opened if I waited. It was between taking another year to learn from the community, or going into a place where I can be all of myself at the same time.

I had a lot of questions. Now that I knew I wanted an MDiv, could I find a school that would give me total financial aid? Would I become a disconnected academic who was disengaged from the community? Would I have time for my personal life, my art, and my writing? Could I handle postponing my dreams for another year?


In the end, I chose to attend the University of Chicago for a Master of Divinity. It was mostly for the community, the closeness of the cohort, and their willingness to help me do what I felt called to do. But most of all, it was about potential growth, and the amazing opportunities that I could pursue there. It was not as wide and diverse, perhaps as Harvard, but it also was less overwhelming. It has strength in its specialty, which for me can be a very valuable thing: a more succinct program can help reel me in. Although I was at first reluctant to choose a school I was less enthusiastic about, I thought about other experiences I had, and realized that in the end, I WAS more enthusiastic about my life in Chicago. From there, the decision was obvious.

I'm nervous now about how I will have to change to be a successful graduate student. I worry that I may not have time to engage with real people, or I may become too intellectually obsessed to be approachable by just a man on the street. But, I feel confident that I can navigate away from those things, and that I have what it takes to beat those things. The life of a university student is really who I am, and although I always want to expand myself, stretch my comfort zone, and have a tangible effect in my community, I know that in order to do it right, the core of who I am must be at home. Then I will truly have the strength I need to always become something more, and to really make an impact in my world.

A Novel in the Works

Once again my mind has run off on a tangent with a novel: this time, I've returned to an old, old story that I crafted a bajillion years ago. Over time, these characters have been shaped, and I think I finally have the mental compass to write it.

The story has always been loosely based on the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, where seven very young conspirators lined the streets of Sarajevo, their goal to kill the archduke (and heir to the Hapsburg throne) in the name of Serbian freedom. According to most sources, they were supported by a secret organization in the Serbian Military called the Black Hand. The assassination is the catalyst of what began the first world war as countries jumped in to either police Serbia's action, or protect their sovereignty.

I've always been fascinated with the character of Gavrilo Princip, a teenager of 19, dying of tuberculosis, who for a moment held the trajectory of the modern world in his hands. I wonder what made him angry enough to want to kill, and what enticed him to believe that assassination was the key.

This incarnation of the story surrounds Michael and Arie, two brand new adults who have fallen madly in love with each other. Michael spends most of his time in the novel falling apart: he struggles with an authority problem, fails out of school, alienates his friends, and turns to violent means to reassert his identity. He is the one who will mirror Princip and fire the shot. Arie desperately tries to hold onto him, and the farther he slips the more she clings, until her rage as well is taken out in a conspiratorial plot: in a way, he drags her into his mess, but her inability to let go chains her to him.

I really want the novel to be about people who fall apart, and especially young people who have no outlet. I want it to demonstrate what happens when the remarkable creative rage in teenagers is channeled by the wrong kinds of people. I want it to be a love story that has all the right attractions, and all the wrong realities. I want it to be a portrait of a real city through the caricature of this sci-fi city that they live in--imaginative enough to be intriguing, but real enough to say what needs to be said. And real enough that it draws on my own real experiences of city living, loneliness, and moving through different windows of life.

This hasn't been the only thing on my mind lately. Graduate school decisions are 100% prevalent and I'm really struggling through them. I knew I would listen to the voice of fate and the direction I was being nudged, but I'm either being really stubborn, or that voice is just tired of telling me what to do all the time.

Things for 1968 are also going slowly. I feel bogged down by work that is crowding out some of the duties that I prefer. That said, I'm learning a lot from every bit of research I do on this exhibit, and it's really inspiring: I get to know a little bit more about why we are where we are today from this history.

But, since I have a chest cold, I leave this post with a pledge to post more often, and just a line from this novel that I'm so excited about, narrated by Jacques, one of the men who convinces Michael that he should assassinate the "archduke':

"That is one thing our people have never been faulted on: we know a good love story, and when it walks into a room with us we can feel it just the same as when someone sticks a gun against the back of our skull. Although the end reaction is quite different, the first assumption takes us over in much the same way."