upcoming changes and big moves
For the past several years, my husband and I have felt like we're being pushed out of our home state. We're queer men and we're both trans, and our deep-red governor happily engages in culture wars against us. The only positive thing I can say about the politicians here is that they aren't the most original or creative individuals, even in their hatred and fear; very rarely do they commit to anti-trans political action that's happening at the same time as bible belt states further south. So, whenever something particularly nasty happens in a different red state, T and I have about a year or so before our government tries something similar.
I've been working away at earning a master's degree, and next week, my final semester at the university will begin. I'm really looking forward to teaching and to the classes I'll be taking. I'm also glad to be working in the writing center to help students one-on-one with their work--this is the type of work I find specifically invigorating, and part of why I returned to school after floundering in full-time work for some years.
Speaking as a university brat who was practically raised on a big campus, I feel genuinely at home in academic settings and rather lost in the "real world." I like the type of eccentricity that you get from academically-oriented people who devote their professional lives to some niche field. Even in the full time jobs I was working, I was always close to academics, either working administrative stuff in some university office or in another educational setting. But I really wasn't very happy, even if I could separate work and home so cleanly. At the very least, a master's only lasts two years, and earning it would make me a better candidate for the types of jobs I'm most interested in, so if I didn't feel good about continuing to pursue further degrees, earning a master's isn't a huge time commitment. Surprise surprise--going for a master's was one of the best decisions I've made in a hot minute, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I have a better grasp on what I want to do in life, and want to continue with academics.
Anyway--now that I'm nearly finished with my master's, I've been making applications to PhD programs. I feel cautiously confident about what I've submitted to the schools I want to attend and whether they're a good fit, plus whether I can create work that meets their standards. I've heard back from one school so far who's invited me for a pre-admission interview/visit, which I'm extremely excited for. In terms of academic and research goals, this school is essentially a perfect fit! The trick is how T and I can make it work in terms of finances and family connections, as other schools I've applied for are closer to people we cherish.
Regardless of where I end up, it's going to be a challenging adjustment. The other day I stopped by one of my favorite coffee places to drop off some posters for a local infoshop I organize with, and saw a close friend of mine who works there. We didn't get to speak, but just exchanging a friendly wave uplifted me. Once I left, I realized that just about no matter where I end up for my PhD program, those types of fleeting, familiar connections aren't going to happen for a long while. It genuinely choked me up as I left and this realization hit me.
I'm pretty bad at getting out there and meeting people, plus every adult knows the challenge of making friends with others to begin with. It seems like most of the working adults I know with a consistent friend group are people who became friends with their kid's friend's parents, for the most part, and T and I aren't having children. (As an aside, I sometimes really wish my sister and her husband-to-be would have a kid. I'd love to be a double-income-no-kids gay uncle to spoil that child rotten. But she's a responsible and level-headed person about reproduction in this economy and political climate, so I dunno if that'll happen.) At least being queer makes it a little easier to find community spaces with like experiences and understandings, but I wonder what it's like to interact with queer communities in larger cities, where groups seem to feel more fragmented in some respects (if social media is to be believed).
I'm nervous but know it'll be a good--and necessary--move. My sister S has discussed how leaving a red state for a blue one (and all the schools on my list are blue--I don't need to worry about potential restrictions to extremely basic aspects of life like medicine and bathroom access while also working on a PhD) left her feeling lighter somehow, and I believe it. Even just visiting blue states recently has left me feeling heavier and heavier when I get back home, even though I'm happy to see the cats.
The critical piece now is to get plugging away and making certain that this move actually happens!
- Marc