If you had asked me ten years ago tonight where I would be living and what I would be doing at the dawn of 2010, my guesses would not have been close to the mark.There has been some continuity from the beginning of 2000 through today:Then as now I was interested in democracy and human development.Then as now I was in love with Sharon Hutchison; we got married in 2001.But I could not have anticipated how much I would learn in the decade ahead, and how the process would change me and my circumstances.When I was younger I imagined adulthood as a sort of plateau: Once you reached a certain age, you just sort of settled in and lived your life.In my experience there are indeed huge numbers of adults who want exactly that for themselves: stability, finality, and an end to questing, with all of its attendant anxiety and uncertainty.My life has not turned out that way, and now I know myself well enough to realize that it never will.
I would say “I’m all about the quest” (I typed and erased the phrase twice), but it’s not entirely true.I am all about the need for questing, and sometimes impatient with other people’s cravings for pat final answers, especially when clinging to those answers means becoming numb to the lessons that can be gained from experiences.But in the past decade I’ve had some experiences of stability that have freed me to learn in new and profound ways.One of those experiences has been spending six and a half years at UMBC.Our campus community is intensely familiar to me, more familiar than any other community of which I have been a part.I’ve literally occupied the same space—my little corner of The Commons’ 2nd floor—the entire time.Yet instead of stagnating or re-living the same academic year again and again, I’ve thrived and grown.Maybe the fact that the community is constantly renewing itself with new members has made the difference.In any case, feeling at home has helped liberate me to explore and create, and to embrace changes initiated by students and colleagues.Every day I take risks, and every day learn something new, in part because I feel safe enough to be who I truly am, questions and uncertainties and all.
Where will I be 10 years from now?I’m less willing to predict that than ever before, partly because I have become better at embracing the present.I used to be full of big plans.Now I’m more attentive to the problems I’m trying to solve and the contributions I’m trying to make than to the details of my career path.Also, I’m more aware of how vulnerable we all are to the vicissitudes of life.In the past ten years I’ve had my mother-in-law, other family members and a close friend pass away, and watched friends’ and relatives’ marriages fall apart.So above all I’m going to treasure all that I have, and appreciate the enormity of my privilege: For the most part, I get to struggle with the problems of my own choosing.If I’m lucky, I’ll be struggling with some version of those same problems, and continuing to create and contribute to solutions in partnership with people I respect and care about, ten years hence.I’m getting some amazing opportunities to make those contributions at UMBC, and I’d like to think that I’ll still be a part of our community at the dawn of 2020, and that the impact of our collective work will be felt across the United States.Based on the developments of the past few years (see this, for example), I think that’s a reasonable hope.
