We’re back from the John C Campbell Folk School, where we crafted our own Wedding Bands! We took a weekend class on sterling silver fabrication with Meredith Middleton. Thankfully we both received the Kathryn Byrd Memorial Scholarship covering the total cost of our visit to the folk school. Meredith was extremely supportive of our idea of making our own wedding bands, and brought some extra materials for our project as well as providing some of these photos. We learned the necessary techniques during our class projects of a wound bracelet and a gemstone pendant. We worked on the rings in the evening.
First Meredith got our ring sizes to determine the starting length of sterling silver wire or band, and cut our material. We then annealed the metal by warming it up with a torch. Annealing is using heat to loosen the metallic bonds of metal to make it easier to work. We flattened out the piece using a hammer and anvil.
Then we ran it through a rolling mill to flatten and lengthen the 8mm band. After another annealing, we pressed a patterned steel plate on the band to transfer the design. Of course we picked the rainbow plate!
We then cut the band longitudinal to create our two rings. Cut from the same piece of metal, mine is 5mm, Haylee’s is the other 3mm. We then sanded down the sawcut edges to make the bars flat again. Next we measured out the length that we needed based on our individual ring sizes, leaving an extra bit to file down after the cut.
After another annealing, we bent the bans around to form the ring shape. It takes a good deal of tinkering to get the shape just right. The most important part is getting the two ends to match up together. Getting tired, we asked Meredith for help and her expert hands got them into shape.
Our next step was soldering the ends of the ring together, covering the ends with flux and setting it on top of a tiny piece of solder. Heating up the rings with the torch generates a corona of color, a cheery red. It felt like a scene from the Lord of the Rings, watching the silver dance with heat. Then when the ring is hot enough, the solder pulls into the gap, forming a continuous band. After dipping them in water, and a pickle bath we were ready to smooth them.
After another sanding to flatten the rings, we filed off the inner surface to make it convex to slip onto the finger. Buffing with a Dremel, we polished the metal to a nice shine.
Our next step was soaking the rings in the liver of sulfur to give them a patina and bring out the pattern. Steel wool quickly brought the shine back on the raised portions, before a final tumble to polish them.
By creating these rings ourselves, we have a deeper connection with our wedding bands. Our marriage is much like our bands, we are cut from the same hippie material, and embedded with a similar perspective on life. Though our lengths are quite different we fit together just right.
It took me 6 months, but I’m finally on the job hunt. Wanted to share my cover letter here to show you some of my other writing.
Dear Faculty Selection Committee,
The opportunity to join the Civil, Architectural & Environmental Engineering faculty as an assistant professor in the Fall of 2020 is an incredibly exciting possibility to empower the next generation of transportation engineers. I completed my Ph.D. in Civil Engineering at Oregon State University (OSU) in the Fall of 2019, with emphasis on local transportation policy, evaluation of safety countermeasures, and bicycle simulation. My desire to teach engineering and perform research led me to pursue my Ph.D. and my devotion to service of my community led me to become a transportation leader.
As a graduate student I was the lead author on three peer reviewed publications (one more in review), and three technical reports for state governments. I presented research at numerous conferences and won several student competitions and scholarships. I served my community by volunteering at the Corvallis Bicycle Collective, empowering people of all backgrounds the freedom of riding a bicycle through maintenance education and encouragement rides. I was highly involved in local government, developing an identity as an intelligent, unique, and engaging transportation professional. I served Corvallis as the chair of two local transportation committees, improving transit funding and bicycle and pedestrian infrastructure. Corvallis recently adopted a Vision Zero policy based on a movement supporting road safety that I help to organize.
Through my many roles in my professional career, teaching is the area that brings me the most satisfaction. To empower myself and others with new knowledge and perspectives is the core of my intellectual self. Our world is going through great changes, and it is paramount that we adapt to overcome the challenges of the 21st Century. Engineering education provides a powerful way to change our world, as engineers design and build our society’s infrastructure. Connecting my broad humanitarian perspective with the rigorous mechanics of engineering encourages students to make similar connections in their studies and practice to create a sustainable global society. I am prepared to teach a variety of transportation coursework, from undergraduate introduction to transportation, to graduate courses on traffic flow theory. I am specifically interested in teaching about multimodal transportation systems, integrating safety and accessibility into all modes, and addressing transportation equity. Considering the current state of our global pandemic, I am prepared to teach online and research remotely as necessary.
During my professional experiences I have researched a diverse array of transportation topics including: radar vehicle detection at railroad crossings, real time traffic data performance measures, railroad crossing database management, bicycle and pedestrian count programs, railroad trespasser prevention, sound and vibration generated by rumble strips, calibration of a bicycle simulator, and commercial vehicle loading zones. Many of these topics have produced publications, and some of the research has influenced transportation practice. My current research interests include: road safety, transportation policy, active transportation infrastructure evaluation, bicycle simulation, micromobility, bicycle and pedestrian performance metrics, the highway fuel tax crisis, and curb space management.
As an Assistant Professor I intend to teach engaging, thought provoking courses that challenge students to apply engineering concepts to address real challenges in our built environment. I intend to develop collaborative relationships with students, staff, and faculty, as well as integrating myself into Greensboro’s local transportation community. I intend for my research to inform policy makers on cutting edge tactics for improving safety, accessibility and equity in transportation through countermeasure evaluation and multimodal performance measures. I intend to serve the student body as an advisor and mentor, as well as a champion of inclusion and local action. I intend to serve the University and the surrounding community through my direct involvement in local transportation issues, empowering Greensboro to become a smart and connected city. I intend to further develop my relationships with researchers across North Carolina, and around the world to improve collaboration towards a sustainable global society.
I participated in the Eno Future Leaders Development Conference in 2019, a weeklong crash course in federal transportation policy with a select group of premier graduate students. While I learned a wealth of information from the many experts, they would often point to us as the people who would solve the current transportation challenges. Talking with the best and brightest, I saw that my perspective on transportation is unique, highly refined, and relevant on the national scale. I left the conference inspired to continue my journey as a transportation leader.
I am excited about joining an international, and culturally diverse faculty that serves a HBCU student body. Increasing the representation of people of colour in the engineering profession is critical to broaden the industry’s service to all people, in all communities. As a queer person I have experienced adversity based on my gender expression. I stand in solidarity with all people facing systems of oppression and specifically work to address safety and accessibility inequalities in transportation. With my diverse background in transportation engineering, my desire and ability to teach, and my insight for innovation and inclusion, I am the ideal candidate to join your faculty.
Greetings from the Folk School. Like many of you, our plans here have changed quite dramatically in the last week. All classes were cancelled last Friday for the next couple of weeks. Initially, the work study folks were told they would be able to stay here and work during the duration, but two days ago that changed as well, as we were all told to leave by this Saturday.
Nonetheless, folk school was a really cool place to spend the last two weeks. Last week during classes, the school was full of a hundred people learning a wide variety of old timey skills. The work studies spent time in the garden, getting rows of plants into the soil, and starting new ones in the green house. We cleaned out bee boxes, mailed catalogs, cleaned up around the grounds, and got plenty of training on operating equipment and vehicles. We all ate in family style meals, sharing stories and getting to know one another. We quickly made friends with one another, sharing our perspectives and skills.
On Friday we all gathered for Happy Clappy, an event to show everyone else all the cool things we created this week. From hearing the music class share songs, to the incredible pottery, fiber arts, paintings, felted gnomes, and blacksmithed axes; I was amazed at the diversity and creative of all the students. But Friday was also the day the news broke about the school cancelling classes, so we were also caught up in the whirlwind of speculation and change.
The Real MC flame throwin` some weeds
This last week was much different. With a skeleton crew here on campus, we continued to work in the gardens and help out with task around the school. In our Monday meeting, we discussed having access to studios, so that we could continue to artistically express ourselves in our coming weeks. Our group grew closer together as we made preparations for the coming weeks, gathering food and discussing skills that we could teach each other. But then the plans changed again, that we should leave sooner than later.
Our group pretty quickly broke up, as the first two folks headed out the next morning. Some of us still remain, packing our bags, and figuring out what the next step is. This felt like the perfect place to wait out the storm, spending our days working in the soil, growing food. Now we all have to face the reality of travelling back into more urban areas, to figure out our place in a challenged society.
It seems the 21st Century is the story of fear. While I understand and encourage the public healthy necessities of keeping people apart to reduce disease transmission, I’m disturbed by the philosophy of social distancing. We already live in a society that is incredibly divided, and isolated through our politics, housing, transportation, and socioeconomics. As we hoard away our stockpiles, and our social activities are canceled, it’s quite easy to fall into the darkness of fear ourselves.
Fear is a powerful force, integrated into our brain stems to keep us safe. Our natural fears, like avoiding tall places where we can fall, avoiding dangerous predators or poisonous creatures, are totally grounded in our survival reflexes. But living in our society, we have so many other fears. Fear of scarcity of material resources in the face of abundance, fear of abandonment, fear of embarrassment, fear of failure, fear of judgement, fear of our streets, and fear of our neighbors. Our president operates under a reign of fear, capitalizing on the fears of his supporters, and causing deep fear in those that are in turn oppressed. This culture of fear is overwhelming and destructive to our most powerful source of resilience: love and community.
Throughout my studies of spiritual traditions and religions, they all seem to point to love as the force with which we can overcome the darkness. During these difficult times, my greatest comfort has been watching the spring bloom. The birds still chirp their songs, sharing the joy of making it through another night, celebrating the sunrise, and calling out in the evening to gather together again. The flowers are pushing up through the soil, unfolding leaves and petals, to soak in the sunshine and the rain, welcoming another year of growth and life. Nature seems oblivious to the fear that the people are carrying in their hearts. Nature is still so in love with the miracle of life.
So I challenge you to cultivate that love in your life. To practice self love, taking care of yourself, and prioritizing your needs. To practice love for others, offering what support you’re able to others around you without expectations of something in return. To practice love for our society, to see the silver linings, that these events are bringing about powerful social and environmental changes. To practice love for our planet, our Mother and saving grace throughout all time.
Language is so important. I saw a post from Nathan earlier that stressed using the term “physical distancing”, instead of “social distancing.” Yes be responsible and mitigate the spread of disease, but please don’t shut off the people of your life. We live in an incredibly connected time. Call your loved ones and friends. Keep sharing your art, music and stories. Hold space for other people by just listening. Have the difficult conversations about health, and disease, and death. Let us face our challenges and come to greater understanding, instead of barricading ourselves into boxes. Do not isolate yourself, instead find solitude. Take this time to cultivate those back burner projects and hobbies that you’re always putting off in the hectic rat race times. Read a book. Take time to reflect and write about how you feel. Try cooking a new recipe. See this time as an opportunity to grow instead of a disaster.
I don’t want to minimize the suffering, or the difficulty of the days ahead. Please be responsible to yourself and others by practicing healthy habits. Wash those hands and keep your space, but still share your smile, especially with those that are carrying our heaviest burdens. The folks in health care, the folks out of work, the people delivering your packages, and the people providing our emergencies services. Offer your compassion and patience as we get through this together.
Day 3: Fresh cool morning. City day today. Incredible how friendly people have been to us, Peace pilgrims on bikes. We’re able to be seen and see the world around us. Welcomed into the community. Tough hot riding, but totally worth it. Looking forward to another day.
Fertile landscape, scorched by fire.
Waking up under the palm trees, I felt comfortable with our camping experience. We were back on the bike tour! We took our time packing up camp, eventually rolling back out to the road. Reflecting on the journey, today was going to have challenges and obstacles, but we’d overcome them. The key was to be mindful of the lessons learned along the way.
We continued our climb in Kindia, the mountain city. The most fertile region that we passed through, the roadside was large pineapple plantations surrounded by banana and orange trees. Many roadside vendors offered lower and lower prices for the fruit. Traffic got dense as we approached one of the larger Guinean cities.
We came to an unusual sight on the paved road, an intersection. Ethan had been through here on the taxi rides back and forth to Conakry, so he led us uphill on the bypass around the outside of town. Coming to one of the largest roadside food markets, we pulled our bikes into an unopened gas station. Crates contained the awaiting fuel pumps. Moving a nearby bench to a shady place behind a wall, we stretched and watched the street for a moment.
Looking out across the city, a large volcanic mountain was framed by the smokey horizon. I pulled out my sketchbook to capture the incredible sight, while Ethan walked down to the food vendors to find our lunch. Happy to be in the shade, I sketched anticipating lunch. Ethan returned and we passed a delicious spaghetti, beans and hard boiled egg sandwich between us. Incredible satisfied, Ethan deliberated on going back for a second.
‘Kindia, yes I know this place.’
As we had been sitting there for a while, a curious local had approached, and was now engaged in conversation with Ethan. I continued to work on my sketch, thankful for the full belly and the shade. Our new friend insisted on getting some selfies with us, so hugged together on the bench, we smiled for the camera. Some sidewalk vendors approached carrying racks of sunglasses and assorted fashion accessories. I pointed out a simple one blade / can opener knife, and Ethan agreed that it would be a nice addition to our gear.
After our long break, we finally returned to the bikes. Many shops decorated the side of the road with stacks of energy drinks inside. I still didn’t have a water bottle that fit my cage, and I thirsty wished I could get one of these bottles. Still unable to express my needs, I awaited an opportunity to ask Ethan for a drink.
Turning back onto the main road on the other side of Kindia, we soon came to a checkpoint. An older gentleman questioned Ethan. Similar to previous stops, once Ethan got to the point in the story about being with the Corps De La Paix, we were clear to go through. The old man continued to joke around with us, shaking our hands and welcoming us to Guinea.
The road took nice turn downhill as we continued onward. The steep hills were covered with luscious jungle. The weaving road would come to large clearings, where we could see out into the rolling countryside below. Feeling great, we blasted down the mountain. Seeing a shop with large water bottles, I hollered to Ethan to stop. He complied, and I now had a huge one litter bottle for my cage. Very relieved to be able to drink while we rode, my spirits soared.
Cruising down the mountain
At the bottom of the grade, we rode across a new large bridge. Seeing the opportunity for a break, Ethan turned us around, and we crossed back over the adjacent old narrow, one lane bridge. A worn path led us down to the water side, where several other guys were washing clothes or themselves in the slow moving water. Still feeling uncertain about the water, I patiently waited while Ethan washed. Feeling the need to relieve my bowels, I carefully walked into the brush to find a spot. Relieved, I walked back out to river, but in my infinite disgust, I felt my toes become coated in a slimy brown gunk.
Without too much investigation, I knew that it was human shit. After my disgust had passed, I realized that this was today’s lesson. Instead of being upset, it was just an opportunity to wash my feet. Thankful I had been wearing my sandals instead of my sneakers, I walked into the water and rubbed my feet through the muck. Satisfied I returned to the sun to dry off, accepting the reality of hygiene and sanitation around me.
As we relaxed, another watering hole visitor took notice of us and came over to pay us a visit. Ethan talked, while I played a little dulcimer music. Our new friend was impressed, so I gave him a couple of my stickers as souvenirs as a parting gift. Always amazed at how quickly Ethan can load up and return to the road, I once again was the slow one trying to secure my bags and get redressed.
Shared streets.
On the road in the early afternoon, I took the lead for the first time in Guinea. Feeling strong, I pushed ahead, with Ethan steadily following behind. We approached another military checkpoint, and I slowed down. One of the guards was busy with another car, and the other appeared to be giving me the wave through. Thinking we were alright to continue, I just kept biking. The first guard was not satisfied however, and started blowing his whistle like a madman. Realizing that I was in violation, I turned around just as Ethan was arriving.
The questioning was especially tense, with me understanding very little of the rapid french. Ethan seem undisturbed as he patiently told and repeated our story. Unsatisfied, the officer requested our documents, scrutinizing them, then asking for more documentation. He didn’t seem to like that Ethan only had his Peace Corps ID, instead of his full US Passport. He also didn’t like that Ethan didn’t have his Yellow Fever documentation. But I seemed to pass, even though I didn’t speak a single useful word.
As we continued to stand there, several of the other guards walked over. They greeted us with smiles, and hearing our story, convinced the first guard that we were in fact okay. They really got a good laugh upon hearing that my name my Samba, and made Ethan type down their phone number encase something happened to us. Finally getting the go ahead, we returned to the road, though I was somewhat shaken by the encounter. Being questioned, in a language you don’t understand, by armed men, in a country far far from your home is stressful to say the least. Nonetheless, I was ever so grateful to have Ethan here to calmly work through these events. And I was even more aware of the privilege I carried with me, a US passport to go along with my white skin.
Another tag-along rider.
Still in the mountainous part of the country, we slowly climbed another hill. A young rider hopped on his bike as we rode through town, and joined our convoy. Once again I was impressed at his determination, riding a single speed with a loose chain up the mountain right along with us. Upon closer inspection of his bike, I realized that one of his pedals had fallen off, and that he was riding on just the pedal axle. Man, if the bike snobs back in Corvallis could see the quality of bikes here. It’s truly about the rider, not the ride.
More leg room when you sit on the roof.
The climbing continued for quite some time, as the sun continued to bake. Our friend eventually parted ways, reaching his destination I suppose. We rode on, until finally what seemed like the top. Quite tired, we pulled over to take a rest. ‘Whoa, there’s a big snake over there’ Ethan exclaimed. The snake appeared to be dead, but we gave it plenty of room anyways, opting for a spot further up the road.
Spreading my tarp out over some tall grass, we relaxed in partial shade, munching down large quantities of our snacks. Always grateful to be eating, I reflected on how far we’d come. Well really, I had no idea. I vaguely knew where we were going, but had little clue of the various towns along the way. We had no map, only Ethan’s memory of the trip from riding in taxis. In many way though, it made it easier to just stay in the moment, having no concept of the future.
Across Big Mamma Africa.
Re-energized we returned to the road, making some more afternoon miles. The road took a general turn down again, as we eventually came to another large river. Pulling into the town of Kolente, a large market greeted us. We parked the bikes, and Ethan went shopping while I stood by our gear. Nearby a young girl was terrified by the horrible tu baboos that had just arrived. Her mother was comforting / laughing at her, as other children stared on. Her mother beckoned me over. Pulling out the candy, I carefully approached and gave her a piece, hoping to ease her terror. Still uncertain of me, I chose to pick my battles and return to the bike.
Looking around it seemed like someone was staring at my from almost every direction. Knowing when I’ve got a stage, I unstrapped my dulcimer and sat down on a nearby bench. Immediately children started to gather. Warming up, I focused on my music, as the number of children grew. Packed tighter and tighter around me, I looked up at all the curios faces around me. The looks were everything from disbelief to amusement or absolute joy. Smiling my brightest smile, I looked around the crowd from face to face. Many children responded with huge smiles of their own. Some of them would begin giggling, after looking at this incredible creature eye to eye.
I sang them some songs, and some of the kids clapped or danced along. Others continued to only stare. Nonetheless, I’m sure that moment was as memorial for them as it was to me. Ethan eventually returned, and seeing my crowd, informed me that he would be over there. Confident in myself, I continued my show, without worrying about the brief separation from my lifeline. Working through some more of my material, I felt so alive to be playing my music for the children of Guinea. What an incredible dream come true.
Having enjoyed myself, I realized when the energy was starting to wane. Putting away the dulcimer, I pulled out my next trick, my stickers. Introducing them in English, which no one seemed to understand, I took the next step of holding one out to the most curious and friendly face. My message was across, and suddenly dozens of hands were reaching from all directions. I tried to explain that they needed to share, or to only take one, but the words were lost in the commotion. No matter how many stickers I had, the hands would continue to take them. Briefly I felt the power behind those many hands, as I tried to hold my own against their might. With the stickers gone, I held up my empty hands, and thanked them for being a great audience.
American African.
Returning to my bike, I looked around the market for Ethan. Eventually I spotted him across the way, and walked my bike over. He had ordered us a large rice dinner, and we sat in the shade to eat every grain. As we sat there longer and longer, I was wondering why we didn’t start riding again. ‘I think she’s going to let us stay at her place’ Ethan finally explained. So once the rice shop was finally packed up for the evening, we pushed our bikes behind the queen of the town’s gossip that night, the rice lady who hosted the exotic bicycle riding white people. As we walked through the street, I saw many familiar faces smiling back at us, waving with their new Flatland’r Jr. stickers.
Haylee and I have great news to share. We got my results back from a recent procedure, and it was effective! It’s expected to save us $100’s of thousands of dollars over the next couple of decades, cut our carbon emissions drastically, and keep us sleeping great at night. The procedure is long lasting, took only thirty minutes, and just a $40 copay with my insurance. What kind of miracle procedure am I talking about? A simple disconnection of the vas deferens.
I had to do some prep, shaving the area, and taking a Xanax for the anxiety (apparently folks can tighten up when they’re too nervous). I lounged back in my gown, while listening to the Beatles. Then a localized anesthetic to numb the area. An incision, cauterizing the vas deferens with a laser, and a slight tug as they tied the vas deferens together for support. A few stiches to sew up the incision, then switching sides, and repeating the procedure. Wrap with gauze, and keep them supported while it heals. Ice to help with the swelling, and keep the stiches clean until they dissolve. Other than driving instead of riding my bike for 2 weeks, walking very softly and some soreness for the first week, the vasectomy was an easy procedure.
There are lots of reasons why I decided this was the right choice for me. Our sexual liberation. Limiting our impact on a diminishing world. Avoiding the shear cost of raising a child. Date nights whenever we want. Travelling less encumbered. Not waking up to change diapers, or having to leave a public place during a tantrum. Being an uncle is just enough kids for me. Much easier than Haylee’s alternative, tubal ligation, which is more invasive and more likely to have issues. But ultimately it’s about mental health.
I believe we could be loving, supportive, encouraging parents; but I also know the role would be heavy for us both to bear. My intergeneration trauma manifests as Borderline Personality, unstable interpersonal relationships due to extreme polar thinking. My mood swings would make it very difficult to be a consistent parent, and while 90% of the time I’d probably do a great job, 10% of the time, I’d be wanting to flee the stress and responsibility. Haylee’s OCD tendencies would make parenting a stressful responsibility. When your mind is trained by trauma to think the worse, every decision regarding others is a hurtle. When I think about the next 18 years, I want to know we have agency over what we do, and how we grow. Becoming parents would change that, and our responsibility would demand our focus and attention. We have so many other gifts to share with the world, gifts that would take the back set to being parents.
So what if we change our minds? Vasectomy’s are reversable, though not intended to be. We also agree that we would rather adopt a child rather than have our own, if that was something we wanted. So we made the potentially reversable decision to not have kids, instead of making the irreversible action of bring a human into this world.
Especially for my male readers, I know what you’re thinking: Is sex different? Yes. It’s so much better now that we don’t have to worry about unwanted pregnancy. We can celebrate the ultimate intimacy without fear, what greater joy could we ask for? After the first two weeks, I can’t tell any difference other than the small knot on the vas. We even got to do some fun homework of clearing the system of any remaining sperm. Of course I thought it was 20-25 times using other contraceptives, turns out it was only 10-15 😉
Consider it. If you already have as many kids as you’d like, focus on your existing family and take responsibility for your fertility. If you don’t want kids, what are you waiting for? In a country where women’s reproductive rights are getting reversed back to the dark ages, take advantage of male reproductive responsibility.
Long time, no write. Life has gotten busier this year. We moved to Carrboro, NC and I’ve dived into a transportation engineering position with the Town of Chapel Hill. In all my years of NC State education and Wolfpack Red, I never would have imaged that my next step would be Tarhell Blue. But networking does get people good jobs, not education. So here we are in one of the coolest towns in North Carolina. Hippie, grungy, bikeable, queerable- Carrboro is a great place for us to call home.
Happy anniversary!
Haylee and I celebrated our one year anniversary by going to the NC Symphony playing a lawn show in Southern Village. Our lives have grown into our new space, freer to be who we need to be true. Haylee building our art business, vending crochet at local festivals, launching her Etsy and creating her studio. Our dog Lena is happy as can be, Gouda is plump, and we redecorated our fish tank and introduced some new fish. We can walk and bike into town, and we’re enjoying exploring new restaurants and watching live music. We’ve been jamming on the guitar and drums (Look out White Stripes), but we sing harmonies.
Working in the Transportation Division of Public Works is a great fit for me. We’re directly responsible for some of the infrastructure in the city, my share is the traffic signal system. I’m working in the right job for my knowledge, and skills: lowering vehicle speeds & prioritizing pedestrians; flipping the script on traditional traffic engineering. It’s fulfilling to move from advocating for Vision Zero to implementing it. But like every job, my greatest challenge is managing myself. Setting boundaries for what I work on is key. I’m always picking up slack, and there seems to be plenty of slack around. I have a supportive group of people around me though, and am learning to lean on the team.
Open Streets CarrboroStreet Artist
I bike 5 miles to work, through the Carolina North Forest and along roads with bike lanes. Of course there’s a few gaps where I’m riding in the lane, but compared to Concord / Kannapolis where I felt endangered in the lane, it’s a dream come true. And I know when those sections do come in projects I’ll be there to advocate for fixing the gaps. I ride my Mary’s River Metal Works bike and live my best bicycle superhero life. I do miss my bike friends from Corvallis, you can’t just find that kind of community. But I imagine over time, I’ll build my own tribe here. Carrboro Bike Polo?
Usually Fall is when I fall apart. I started to crack a few weeks ago: stress, inflation, injustice, exhaustion. But this year I’ve taken my time off to protect myself and recharge. Get some space from the responsibility, and focus on my self care. It all goes back to boundaries, and letting go of the illusion of control. I have to find the pace of the marathon, not the sprinter if I’m going to sustain. Simplifying life is a goal. We’ve been cleaning out the final stuff of the intergeneration house most weekends, and we know that moving back is not a choice we can take. I know selling the house will lift a huge burden off my mind, though it is bittersweet to go. We have to keep moving forward into life, instead of retreating. Letting go of the attachment and nostalgia, and embracing what we need now. Let the unneeded things fall away this year, instead of letting ourselves fall.
We’ve had some wonderful times this year, and are excited about the things to come. We rode ferry’s and bikes at the outer banks for my birthday. Celebrated Haylee’s with fireworks and family in Carrboro for 4th. Danced to punk music with new friends. Explored our new world together. We’d love to share our world with you, let me know when you’d like to visit. Until next time, farewell.
Bikes on a Ferry?Birthday Bike TourWe’re on a boat!
Another restless night. Waking up to thoughts about things. Tired old thoughts that I’ve turned over a thousand times, tonight. Why do I have to keep thinking about this? Why can’t my mind just let go?
I know that I’ve been putting off writing here for some time. It seems like too much backstory to have to share. The weight of needing to be thorough seems too much to bare. So I’ll see where this goes with the 3am brain, and hopefully, I can empty these thoughts long enough to get back to sleep.
My time as a teacher has come and gone. I burnt out after a few months. Although I internalize it as my own lacking, I know the public education system is failing, and my burn out is a symptom of that sickness. A lack of master’s pay, licensing requirements that put me back into college to get a teaching certificate (that I had to pay for myself / even though I have a terminal degree in the subject I was teaching), and overall bureaucratic overload are all systematic reason. Here in NC, our legislature has consistently voted to undermine our education system for short term financial savings. Most of the remaining teachers are too far into a state retirement to risk changing careers. And young teachers are a rare commodity.
The teaching vacancies leave our classrooms without leadership, where a revolving band of administrators provide coverage for the day. I was the 4th teacher in my position in the last year and a half. Over the summer the other teacher in technology left, and though many were offered the position none accepted it. Perhaps it’s the opportunity cost of not working in industry as engineering / technology people can make much much more doing anything else. So I overcommitted and accepted the extra classes.
Teaching 5 classes, with 4 different subjects, back to back, without a planning period (technically my planning was afterschool, the same time as all those required meetings, and the robotics club I was advising) was too much. I got further and further behind, and each day felt like I was a little deeper with no chance of catching up. I told my administrators about my difficulties, but as long as you keep showing up, their always seems to be a more pressing issue somewhere else. My mental health continued to decline as the overwhelming stress followed me into the night. Too much caffeine, insomnia, exhaustion, too much caffeine… With one sick day a month, a weekly mental health breakdown becomes something you have to deal with onsite. Then it became two breakdowns in a week, and that’s when I called it quits.
Of course transportation has a role in this as well. Biking to the high school always felt dangerous, as their are no sidewalks or other connections, and my route was along a busy 4 lane dived highway. After a close call one morning when I had to ride into a ditch to avoid being crashed into, the daily commute felt unsurvivable. Of course I was busy advocating for safety improvements, developing a safe routes at schools plan with my students, and promoting it to the many administrators, but nothing happened. “We’re going to build a new school in a couple of years…” When everyone arrives to school by a motor vehicle, the lone cyclist is a fool in the rain. “Don’t you know it’s dangerous out there?” “Why not drive?” The sad reality is that reactive decision makers will only address these issues once a catastrophe has happened. And I didn’t want to die a martyr for my cause.
And nevertheless I continue to blame myself. I let down my students by quitting, for many of them I was their favorite teacher. I let down the other teachers, because I couldn’t handle the emotional abuse of public school. I would often hear “Teaching is really difficult for the first 3 years,” “I cried a lot my first year teaching.” I let down myself for giving up a job that I was genuinely good at. If only I would have…
Picking up the pieces of my mental health started when I left the classroom. Talk about stress relief; 2 less dangerous commutes, 5 less classes, 80 less students, 100 less emails a day, 1000 less administrators. Talking with my wife, we decided that I needed to focus on my borderline personality, the core of my emotional regulation issues. I feel things on overdrive. That’s why I care so much about the things I do, and why I’m so emotionally involved. Most people give 80-90%, I give 400% until I can’t. In a manic, overproductive, success driven society these traits have pushed me to accomplish a lot (I’m looking at you academia), but the cost for that intensity is my emotional well being. As I’ve discussed here in great detail, depression inevitably follows the unsustainable effort, burnout. So I find myself in this same place again, picking up the pieces.
I found a new therapist that specializes in DBT, an approach that is helpful for borderline people. My therapist tells me that BPD is really complex PTSD, that it is a result of childhood abuse. When I look inside I know that emotions have always been big. When I was a kid, I really didn’t have support for those big emotions. Get over it. Stop crying. Don’t be a baby. My emotions were never valid, more a liability that had to be dealt with.
So I learned that my best coping skill was my mind. Figure out how to work around it. Manipulate to get what I need. Rationalize what I’m feeling, and generally blame it on external factors. Don’t feel the sadness, anger, and frustration; bury that all down deep inside. Distract yourself with escapism (TV, video games, books). By getting good grades and positive teacher remarks, I will be rewarded. Accomplish to earn love. Otherwise stop making a scene.
A key characteristic of BPD is a feeling of emptiness or lack of identity. My whole life I have defined myself by how I fit into other people’s lives, or the role that I take on in work. I’m a son, I’m a student, I’m an engineer, I’m an advocate, I’m a cross country cyclist, I’m a teacher, I’m always something else to fill that void, because I myself have never been enough. So who am I?
I have a thousand and one things I could list as characteristics, or roles I play, but I don’t have a good answer. I know that I don’t feel empty when I am creating, be it music, crafts, writing or art. During those activities I feel a state of flow. I know that I don’t feel empty when I am entertaining others, be it performing, teaching, or telling stories. I know I don’t feel empty when I’m in nature, watching the sunrise or sunset, the moons phases or the stars shifting through the seasons. I know that I don’t feel empty when I am with my wife, for I know that she loves me unconditionally, no matter my mood or emotion. But who am I?
That is the work I’m doing these days, trying to improve my capacity for dealing with intense emotion, and figuring out who I am. I’ve applied and interviewed for jobs, but don’t feel ready for full time commitment (over commitment) again. I still wear plenty of different hats, husband, son, friend, and doing my best a junkman cleaning out the house and selling stuff at the flea market. I’ve also been making slot car comedy videos on Youtube. But for now the thoughts are expressed, and it’s time for me to get back in bed.
The cat is out of the bag! Haylee and I got married this summer. Perhaps you saw our announcement and wondered where was my save the date and wedding invitation? Well, we decided that the traditional event wedding was not want we wanted. The stress of getting everyone together in one place at one time seems like a breakdown waiting to happen.
In statistics we talk about interactions, the measurable impact that certain factors have when they are combined. Event weddings seem like a nightmare for undesirable interactions: mixing both our families for the first time, multiplied by eclectic friend groups from all throughout life, add a lot of food and a little alcohol, and squeeze it all into an afternoon. At best you get to spend 5 minutes with each person who attends, maybe. And of course the cost of the whole shebang: invitations, renting a venue, catering, music, transportation, logistics, logistics, logistics… The state is going to have to give me Master’s pay if we’re going to do all that.
So instead we’re having / planning a wedding summer. Breaking up all those parts into manageable amounts, spread out over a few months. A courthouse marriage license, some beach trips, the folk school to create our rings, then a mountain elopement. And plenty of celebration with small groups as we go. Sort of a wedding on tour, coming to a town near you!
As with all good marriages (and bad ones?) we started it all with a legally binding document. We went to the Cabarrus County Courthouse on a hot June Monday morning, with two dear witnesses, and filled for our wedding license. I woke up in a foul mood, and struggled through the busy morning. Not knowing what to expect, the ceremony felt a bit abrupt. The magistrate wed us behind the plexiglass, and in record time, as we were out of there by the time our 10 o’clock appointment arrived.
To say the least, it was an emotional day, with joy and happiness, but also a sense of anticlimax. This milestone moment in our relationship past us in a moment. Of course we (I) had an emotional meltdown once we got home. It felt unromantic and incomplete, and I felt that I had let Haylee down with my attitude that morning. So we cried and hugged, and talked it through, and figured it out. Haylee reminded me of all the other lovely adventures we would have this summer, and that our day will still happen.
Luckily I married my soulmate. I’ve been through enough love and relationships to understand what exactly I need to be healthy in a relationship. Love, trust, open communication, affection, intelligence, joy, songs, snuggles, jokes and most importantly laughter. Fundamentally I know I need to be supported in my turbulent emotional mood swings, and to be held accountable for my stubbornness. Haylee gives me all that and more. She gives me hope that we can get through the most challenging days together.
A week later we road tripped to the Outer Banks with my brother Ethan and his partner Kim. They were visiting from Minnesota, and we were excited to share our news with them. We all had so much fun on the beach, visiting lighthouses, camping, and shopping thrift store tourist traps. Kim took some wonderful photographs to capture these early married moments, photos that we used to share our news.
We returned to the Atlantic for Haylee’s birthday, July 5th. Were able to get a reservation due to a cancelation, as it seemed everywhere was booked a few days earlier. We camped at Myrtle Beach State Park in South Carolina. We experienced the beach packed on a busy fourth of July weekend, but I preferred the quiet of the nature trail under knurly maritime forest. Quiet until a tremendous thunderstorm filled the dry lake resulting in a massive frog chore. Sharing the peace and wonder of nature is where we are the happiest. Well happiest except for when we’re playing together, like our birthday sandcastles, or when we’re singing duets of ‘Help!,’ ‘Margaritaville’ and ‘Wagon Wheel.’
Our next adventure is to Raleigh on July 23rd to have a dance party celebration at Zenith, a retro 80’s & 90’s nightclub. I’m excited to introduce Haylee to old friends and to spend a night dancing. If you’ve ever been to a wedding with me, you know that I bring the party to the dancefloor. And Haylee is the perfect dance partner, smiling, and laughing, twisting and shouting, together.
At the end of the month we’re planning on going to the John C Campbell Folk School to take a weekend course on jewelry making. Our plan is to create our own wedding rings. I applied for a scholarship and we were awarded one, so the cost of the course, our food and camping is all covered. I’m excited to return to the Folk School and share it with my darling bride.
On our way back from the Folk School we’re going to camp throughout the NC mountains. We’re planning on having our elopement ceremony at Harper Creek Falls near Morganton NC. We will exchange our vows and rings there, and spend the day surrounded by nature. Later in the summer, we’d like to have a picnic with our families to celebrate the joining of our families. We are still working out the details.
We started our marriage around the same time that we got our air fryer. Maybe theirs an interaction effect, as life seems full of warmth, tenderness, and sometimes is a little spicy. We’ve been compiling photos and video from along the journey, and plan to share it once we’re decided we’ve done all we want to do and celebrated enough. We still have available dates on our wedding tour calendar, so invite us to come visit you, so we can celebrate our marriage with you. And of course, thank you for all the love, support, gifts and congratulations! It fills our hearts with joy to be accepted and celebrated in our community. But for now it’s time for us to have dinner, partner and wife.
Is it really that day again? Another year has passed, and my birthday is here again. Looking back over this last year, it’s been a year of change, of growth and of transformation. A year ago I was out on the outer banks with my friend Chandler, riding our bikes on the Mountain to Sea trail, taking time off from my job at the bike shop. Now I’m settled into my role as a high school teacher, showing my class the documentary about my cross country bike journey. Maybe after a long decade of freewheeling, I’m settling down into adulthood. Maybe…
Having the bike shop behind me is a blessing. The day to day stress of serving every crisis that walks through the door drained me beyond belief. My zealous nature to help left me depleted facing unlimited need. So working as a teacher is much more consistent. I work with the same students each day, seeing them progress, overcoming challenges, and growing as thinkers and creators. Not every student is a success story, some want to do the bare minimum, but most seem to be rising to the challenge. My classroom is one based on inquiry. We cover our curriculum, but try to push our knowledge by applying it. I’m consistently amazed at the intelligence and capability of my students. And in many ways, my role hasn’t changed much, for at the bike shop, teaching was my primary joy.
Riding my bike is still the foundation of my day. Now I ride about 4 miles to school, along a greenway, and through suburban neighborhoods. I feel energized by my exercise, and am grateful that I found a job so close to home. I’m certainly an outlier though. I estimate that less than 1%, much much less, of the students and staff arrive by walking or biking. Our school was rural turned suburban, and the scariest 5 minutes of my day is crossing the campus in the morning rush. I’ve got my engineering students working on a safe routes at school plan, identifying issues with the walking infrastructure, and proposing solutions. I hope to present it to our school improvement team, and take it to the school board as well. So my advocacy fire is still there, just shifted towards enlightening young people to see the changes, and to encourage them to speak up for themselves.
Robots are the thing I’m most fired up about these days. My Robotics class is doing excellent work pushing the limits of our hardware, designing and building excellent robots. We’re working on a navigation robot for the media center, one that leads you to different sections of books. Guiding the students through developing autonomous functions is so rewarding, as they are preparing themselves for careers in engineering by learning how to think and problem solve. Many of my students seem more like grad students than high schoolers, based on their intrigue and work ethic. We’ve even got a robotics club where we’re developing our skills for competitions next year. Teaching robotics is pretty easy, as the students are so excited to be tinkering with the robots, I just have to open the door, and set another challenge just a little further out from their current skill. I’m excited to see where our team goes, and where the students will eventually end up. I daydream about getting them into colleges based on their robotics experiences.
It hasn’t taken too long to develop a reputation for myself as a great teacher. Most of my students really enjoy my class, as I give them freedom to think, while meeting them where they’re at. Our administrators certainly appreciate me, as I bring new energy to the classroom, and every activity I’m involved in. I even got to play my dulcimer at our spring pep rally, earning me fans throughout the school. It’s not always easy dealing with the bureaucracy of public education, or with the occasional attitudes, but it’s nearly always rewarding. And there is no guilt, I leave each day knowing that I likely exceeded the expectations.
On the home front, life has certainly transformed into a partnership with my darline Haylee. A year ago we were camping together at the coast for the first time, and now we’ve been living together for 5 months. Our love and care for each other continues to grow, as we overcome challenges together. We’ve both found jobs that we really enjoy, though our time together is more restricted now. However, we do our best to spend quality time each day, and we are consistently learning more about how to support each other in our ups and downs. I’m excited for our journey together, and for the exciting adventures ahead of us.
All and all life is going well. Another year under my belt, perhaps a little wiser, and definitely more settled. The fear and uncertainty of 2020 has receded, and I find myself generally optimistic about the future. I’ve shifted my focus to giving my gift to those that most appreciate it, and continue to reap the rewards. Tonight I’m planning on playing some board games with old friends, some things never really change.
I’ve been meaning to write for a few weeks now, but alas I’ve been busy with my new job! I started substitute teaching at high schools in Rowan County in January. For two weeks I travelled around to different schools to fill in for a day. As we can all probably identify with, substitutes have a difficult job of going into a classroom amidst the generally unruly students who take the teacher’s absent as a do what you want pass. I was amazed at the difference attitudes in different classrooms. Some classes were effortless, state what they need to work on, and the students dig into their work. Others felt like a riot about to happen, and all my effort was spent in stopping students from walking out, or getting into fights. Often I would sign up for a teaching assignment, only to arrive to be in some other subject instead. It seemed like just about every school would have a teacher opening that they would offer me.
I applied to start subbing in Cabarrus County, much closer to home and about $50 more per day for the same work. But I didn’t get the chance, because an assistant principal at Northwest Cabarrus saw my application and reached out to me about a position at their school. The previous teacher had left sorta last minute to work at a community college, and the students were just sitting around waiting for a new teacher. The school was planning on cancelling the classes if they couldn’t find a teacher soon. The classes are Introduction to Engineering and Robotics II. I went to visit the school, and felt good about the various administrators and supervisors, as well as the subject matter. I decided that fate had finally brought me the right next step.
It has been over two years since I finished my Ph.D. and I’ve applied to dozens of engineering jobs, receiving at most a few interviews, and no offers. I was frustrated with the refrain “we’ve decided to go with another candidate that more closely matches our needs.” I doubted myself, and I doubted the value of my education. Then in January, I decided to switch my priority. Instead of looking for a highly specialized career, I should focus on jobs that are in need of people locally. And within a month, I had my own classroom.
Teaching has always been a strong suit of mine, from being a scout camp counselor, to teaching bike repairs, empowering others with knowledge or new skills brings me great joy. I often thought that I would go into teaching later in life, after a career in engineering. But now it feels like this is truly my calling. Instead of advocating and fighting for changing our transportation infrastructure, I’ve switched my energy to preparing the next generation of engineering students. My engineering classes are project focused, getting the students designing and building to understand the different types of engineering. I’m excited about the seeds of awareness I’m sowing, and the opportunities that my students have.
Robots have taken over my mode choice for this year. Bicycles are so last year. Teaching Robotics is awesome. I get to challenge students with design problems, and then encourage them as they problem solve and develop really ingenious solutions. We look at the real world applications of robots, and work in teams on similar projects in our classroom. Developing delivery robots, integrating autonomous functions, and building mechanical arms have been our task thus far. Our final project is building a librarian assistant robot that can reshelf books in the media center. Robotics is a great application for my perspectives in transportation and engineering.
I’m planning on getting our Robotics Club / Team going again, something that’s been shelfed since COVID. I had the opportunity to be a judge at the NC State Robotics Championship this weekend. Seeing the incredible student Robots, hearing about their design choices, and talking about the strategy of competition and autonomous function was so much fun. I hope to have our team at the State Championship next year, creating a space for our students to compete while gaining a valuable experience for their futures in engineering.
Having full time employment is a big change for me as well. I’m finally earning more than federal poverty line, and even have benefits and retirement. This is the first time I’ve really worked 5 day weeks since 2015 (what a dream!), and the weekends seem to fly by. The mornings are early, but I have the afternoons to garden, play music, or to read. I’m excited to have the summer off to travel, catch up on projects, and celebrate my freedom. But most important to me, I don’t have any guilt. When I was advocating and working in the bicycle crisis center, it seemed that I could never give enough. Now when the day is done, I know that I’ve done my best and it is more than enough.
The structure has brought a lot of stability to my mental health as well. Getting up early and being so productive makes me feel my best. And being in front of students always fills me with energy to rise to the occasion, something that was often difficult when I was a computer operator. My school is right around the corner from my house, and I’ve started riding my bike the four miles to get to work. My route takes me along a greenway and through some neighborhoods, with only a few sections of busy car traffic. It seems that the Universe found the right place for me to be, right where I already was.
Getting started is the hardest part. I’ve been meaning to write to you for some time, turning thoughts and dreams around and around in my head, waiting to be expressed across our digital reality, from my life to yours. So I awoke this morning before the sun, with my head still full of thoughts, decided to pour them out to you instead of churning them around again. I want to take a look back at the last year, to find 10 things that I’m grateful for, to share my journey with you.
1 The Pedal Factory
I’ve got to start with the place that I poured most of time and energy into this year, The Pedal Factory, Salisbury’s community bike shop. I began working there in January, in an uncertain time still clouded with COVID concerns. Bicycles have empowered my life in incredible ways, and having a place to share them with my hometown seemed like the best local fit for me. Months passed, and more and more people were on bikes, fulfilling my personal mission. We even made the news.
But eventually over the summer I became overwhelmed by my time there. The work was never really done, and my mind couldn’t leave. Constantly turning over the little drama of being a crisis center, and the bigger drama of how to keep a nonprofit going spun me out. But the convenient solution was to stay, to recommit myself, and even to double down on my efforts. The fall brought more resentment, as I struggled to express my issues while continuing to take on too much of the emotional burden personally.
I believe that I work best as a collaborator, working together towards a common goal. This makes me a good teacher, empowering people with my knowledge, while encouraging them to turn the tools. It contributes to my advocacy as well, using my background and voice to lift up issues from the community. During the summer, the Rowan County Commissioner were considering cancelling a bus service that I used to get to work. In the morning before work, I wrote to the local paper expressing my ideas of why the service should continue, and perhaps be improved. The feedback from the shop was mixed, externally supporting my writing, while internally reminding my to keep my role within the shop. The Commissioners voted to cancel the service at a meeting that coincided with shop time. The greatest gift I had to give to Salisbury was a vision of how transportation could be, but instead I was to be just a bike mechanic. It’s incredible the power of a single moment, a single sentence, to change our direction and sense of belonging.
Two paragraphs in, and this sounds quite jaded, not grateful. Rightfully so, I’m no longer employed by The Pedal Factory. When we feel underappreciated or resentful, we pass that feeling on to those around us. Instead of staying in a unhealthy place for me, I realized that I could no longer work there and have moved on. All that being said, I am very grateful for The Pedal Factory. Providing bicycle access is critical to the health of our community, and the shop does wonderful work in providing a welcoming and empowering community shop space. We helped countless folks this year; getting people on bikes, keeping people rolling, showing youth that bikes can get you places, and empowering volunteers to give time towards something greater. So many wonderful people are associated with the shop, and the good work will continue. I know that my time there was critical in helping the shop grow, organizing the shop infrastructure to make it more accessible and intuitive, and to provide alternative ideas of how things could work. I had to shed my role as an employee to make space for other people to receive compensation for their dedication, and to give myself space to grow into my best self. We all knew that my time there was a stepping stone, and I’m grateful for the time it supported me while I empowered others in my hometown.
2 Counseling & Self Improvement
I’ve been talking with a counselor weekly throughout this year, and am very grateful to have professional feedback on my journey of mental health healing. Talking with someone allows me space to process the challenges of my life, and has helped me to recognize my own mental health issues. I’ve known for a long time that I suffer from depression, and take daily medication to help keep me from major depressive episodes. I still get depressed sometimes, but only for a day or two instead of weeks on end.
My counselor has helped me to identify my bi-polar tendencies, that my depression has a counterpart mania that can be equally disruptive to my life. My mania usually involves overcommitting myself through surges of energy and inspiration; taking on the worlds challenges, only to eventually wear me out, crashing back into depression. Recognizing these patterns, I am trying to be more mindful of my commitments, socially, professionally and in my own personal life. Spending so much time in academia, the mania felt like a superpower. End of the semester when everything is due? Get manic and power through it all. Writing another chapter of the dissertation? Get manic and work on it until it’s done. I briefly tried mood stabilizers this year, but the side effects left me feeling distorted and surreal. I decided they were not in my best interest, and instead have focused on righting my behaviors.
For too long I have depended on caffeine to kick off the mania, spinning me up with another cup of coffee to get the day started. I realized that the caffeine causes me to crash, enabling mood swings towards frustration and aggravation. Over the last two months I’ve stopped drinking caffeine daily, and find my mood to be much more stable. My sleep is more reliable, and I don’t have my afternoon crash of exhaustion. Instead of having the coffee pot sitting front and center on the counter to start the day, I put it away in the cabinet and placed herbal tea in its place. Having a substitute helped me to make the choice to change. I still love (am addicted to?) the experience of coffee, and I sometimes still enjoy a cup; but do so in a mindful way. Why am I drinking this? What is it that I need to achieve? Can I do this without this caffeine? Changing our habits is possible, and to me, the foundation of our healing.
I’ve also stopped using my other favorite habitual chemical THC. For a long time, cannabis has been my mood stabilizer, mellowing out my mania and numbing my depression. It is a pacifier though, a temporary ease of the difficult feelings, and often prevents me from actually addressing the underlying issues. With the support of a loving partner, and changing my environment, I’ve stopped smoking. Getting past the first few days is always the hardest, and over the last few years I could only get to day two or three. Almost of month away from it, it feels like a long dream that I’ve finally awakened from. Instead of the euphoric highs and inevitable lows, my mood is more regular. I feel more connected to the people around me, instead of being 1,000 miles away in my mind. And I still crave the release when times get challenging, but have been finding other ways to cope. Reading was my original escape, allowing me a way out of my mind and into other worlds. Video games and movies were a huge part of my adolescence, and something that I use again to fill up my sense of boredom. But most importantly, I’m trying to sit with the difficult feelings, and to accept them, to recognize their root and to change my situation instead of just numbing myself.
3 Falling in Love
If you’ve read my blog for many years, you know I have a tendency to fall in love. That open hearted, full on commitment kind of love that has often led to inevitable heartache. So how is this time different? Primarily, because it feels truly reciprocated, not just the feeling of love, but both of us being in a place where we can give ourselves to us. Meeting Haylee has been the greatest blessing this year. She is caring, intelligent, funny, creative and incredibly kind. Painting a mural at The Pedal Factory brought us together, and many months of conversations and adventures have opened our hearts and minds to one another.
Our astrology and enneagrams align in supportive ways, and we share many common interest and dreams about the future. We both also have space in our lives for this relationship, allowing us to build a life together. We compliment each other’s emotional needs in very nurturing ways, allowing us to communicate through our challenges and to support each other’s growth. She accepts me unlike anyone I’ve ever been with, in an unconditional love that encompasses my mind, emotions, body, and soul. She accepts my gender identify and uses my preferred pronouns. Haylee is my darling, and we are so excited for our future together.
4 Family Life & Uncle David
One of the greatest blessings this year was seeing my parents get back to a place a peace, ultimately living together again. Though the road was long and difficult, I believe that they learned much about themselves and each other through their separation. They communicate much more effectively, and seem to appreciate each other. A few weeks ago on my Dad’s birthday, we all gathered to share a meal together. Mom and Pops, Ethan, Me and Haylee, and Logan, Lottie and Jenna, all together for the first time in years. It’s much easier, emotionally, to participate in the family now that things are peaceful again. I hope that we can all continue on our personal journey’s of healing, and that this time of family peace will last.
Developing a relationship with my dad’s oldest brother has been a wonderful treasure this year. Uncle David and I both studied civil engineering at NC State, and we share a love a music, especially music on cassettes and CDs. Visiting one another provides deep conversations and a window into the past, as I learn more about my family history. As David is a widower with no children, he cherishes our connection, and told me that I know him better than any living person. I’m grateful to connect with my uncle, to seek his advice and perspective, and to share our friendship. Through him I see so much of our families traits, our strengths of independence, intelligence and integrity and our weaknesses of stubbornness, dependency, and isolationism.
The Friday after Thanksgiving Uncle David fell at his house and fractured his pelvic. After a few weeks in a rehab facility, I drove him back to his house in Caswell County. Our family had gotten together the weekend before to help clean up his house and to make it walker friendly. We gathered a winter’s worth of firewood and got most of it split and stacked.
Ethan: Lumberjacked
David was amazed at all the work that was accomplished in such a short time: “6 months of work at least.” I stayed with him for a few days to help with the transition home, and to continue to get his house set up so he could remain independent. I’m grateful that we as a family were able to support him during his time of need, and that I could spend so much time with him this year.
5 Returning to Oregon
Back in August I got to finally return to Oregon, a year and a half later than when I thought I would to graduate. It was so wonderful to catch up with many friends, to share our stories from the pandemic and to reconnect. I feel such a strong connection to the bicycle community in Corvallis, and was pleased to see that many of the projects I had advocated for had been developed and implemented. It was very nostalgic to ride around the town that I had called home for four years. I doubt that I’ll ever have the graduation ceremony I expected, but it was healing to have time to find closure with my time there.
I finally got to ride my Mary’s River Metal Work bike that my friend Trevor built for me. A custom steel frame, designed based on the dimensions of my old touring bike, but built out proportionally instead of extended up. The bike is an incredible upgrade in performance, with hydraulic disk brakes, a killer drivetrain, and huge tires. Having gone extremely far on much less equipment, every ride on this bike wants to turn into a cross country trip. I dreamed the other night about riding across country again, and I know that journey will be much more comfortable on this excellent bike.
Trevor and I rode out to the Pacific along the Corvallis to Coast trail, and the rocky logging roads that once scared me, were smooth and effortless on my new stead. I know that my heart will always have a soft spot for Corvallis, and hope to return there again soon.
6 Building My Own Dulcimer
In May I got to return to the John C Campbell folk school to take a week long class on building a dulcimer. I was at the folk school when everything shut down, so it was wonderful to get a chance to find conclusion to that story as well. It was wonderful to share my music, develop my woodworking skills, and to enjoy the lovely folk school scenery. I know that I’ll return to the folk school again to take more classes, be a work study, or potentially to teach a class.
Art Guitar
7 Gardening
This spring I got the gardening bug again and dug up my yard. Last year I attempted to grow vegetables, but was mostly disappointed, so instead I decided to grow plenty of flowers. I also built some planter boxes to help keep the grass at bay and focus my efforts. The garden is a scared place for me, and each morning I would spend time among the plants, seeing them change and observing all the life. The easiest way to improve my mood is to watch a honey bee gathering pollen and nectar from my flowers. The garden has been frosted over by now, but I’m excited for spring when I can start the cycle over again.
Another wonderful addition to my life and yard this year has been a neighborhood cat named Smokey. I saw her around for many months, and eventually Haylee made friends with her. Ever since then she sleeps in my tent at night, making biscuits and crawling under the covers to keep each other warm. We still haven’t feed her, but she seems to have a pretty good routine of local hand outs. Sometimes the cat adopts you.
Catnip
8 Old Friends & Pokemon
Being in North Carolina allows me space to reconnect with many of my oldest friends. This year the Pokemon bug spread like wild fire among us, as I got everyone started playing the card game again. I’m going over to play board games with my friend Brandon from middle school this evening. It seems that all of my friends are getting partners now as well, our bachelor days are turning into couples nights.
Old friends are such a joy, picking up like it was just yesterday since you’ve seen them, even if it’s been a few years. I’m grateful to have such devoted friendships that have lasted for most of my life. I defeated the Pokemon league twice this year, on Platinum and Leaf Green, and look forward to staying a kid a heart.
10 Roommates
This year I shared my home with two wonderful creatures, my old friend Seamus and his dog Lola. Seamus and I go way back to scout camp, and were big influencers on each other at a key time in our development. We shared a lot of great music, cool movie nights, lots of pizza and ice cream. Yet our commonalities weren’t enough to overcome our differences in what we need our home to be. Our personalities often clashed, bringing attention to our deepest issues. I see my dysfunction in communicating my needs (especially if I think it will upset someone), and how my laid back approach makes more work for the people around me. The Tao teaches that those who point out our faults are our most benevolent teachers. In November he moved to his own place but I will always be grateful for the time we shared together.
Good afternoon from the Piedmont, train 74. I’m on my way to Raleigh this weekend, on the first leg of a train journey that will take me back out to Corvallis Oregon. It’s nice to sit back and relax to the sights and sounds of the train. Covid certainly decreased my traveling, and I’m excited to be back on the rails again. The train has always been a great place for introspective reflection on where I’ve been and where I’m going.
It’s been a busy summer. We’ve had a bunch of excellent bicycle programs at the Pedal Factory this summer. Three week long bikes camps, several Bike Fun days, a 70 person team build event, and numerous Earn-A-Bikes and repairs for the community. It’s so fulfilling to be serving my community in such a direct way. Every person I empower to ride brings me great joy. Our teen tour camp was a incredible success, the 5 youth between ages 12-17 rode 100k, or 62 miles around High Rock Lake over 4 days. Seeing the perseverance, the maturity, and so many smiling faces was a great joy. What an excellent place for me to apply my knowledge and abilities to serve my community.
Looking forward to the fall, I’d like to teach more. I want to develop curriculum to educate people on becoming bicycle mechanics. Teaching bike mechanics is a great way for me to empower more people to do the work that I’m doing. I’m planning on applying for some grants to help support my educational endeavors. I’m also organizing an Open Streets event for Salisbury (October 3rd, 2-6 pm, Salisbury City Park). Parks and Recreation has agreed to help host the event, which was last held in 2015 in Salisbury. We’re developing the route, getting the permits, and organizing volunteers now. Opening up the streets for people to walk, ride, roll, and play in is a huge step forward. These events have the ability to show people what is possible when we re-envision our streets. I hope the event is a success, and becomes a regular occurrence in Salisbury.
Oregon seems right around the corner again after a long, indeterminate wait for when I would be returning. Covid disrupted my plans of returning in 2020, and now with my vaccine and mask, I’m finally making the trip back out west. So many friends, peers, and community members to catch up with. Life has transformed from when I left, and I know that things will certainly be different, but I’m excited to be returning to a place that brought me so much growth, education, community involvement and joy. The stress crisis of finishing my dissertation seems like a distant memory. Hopefully this trip helps to bring a sense of closure to that experience, as I never got to attend my graduation ceremony, with many emotional loose ends to be wrapped up. I’m also planning on bring my cello back to NC when I return.
My mental health has been pretty good over the last couple of months. Staying busy is good for me, it keeps the existential crisis at bay. Knowing that I’m being the change in my hometown brings me much fulfillment, and I continue to see growth in my own emotional maturity. Setting boundaries with my time and energy has certainly helped. Not taking on everything is critical to hold space for myself. I have to remind myself that it’s okay that I’m not saving the world at every moment. Accepting change and uncertainty reduces my anxiety. Riding my bike to work (4 miles to the train station each way) keeps me active and feeling strong. I still have a tendency to overindulge, especially with food. I’m realizing the induced stress that caffeine causes me, and trying to reduce me intake. Focusing on longevity and holistic health instead of temporary pleasures. One day at a time.
The most exciting and joyful part of my life has been the development of a loving relationship with a beautiful, artistic soul named Haylee. We met at the Pedal Factory, where she was painting a mural of a mountain biker at sunrise. We meet each others emotional needs, and grow closer each day through our conversations and quality time. She is an empathic person also, so she understands and helps me in my challenging times. Our love is mutual and reciprocated, encouraging me to trust and commit myself to us. Doing my best to remain present with where we are, but I see our relationship stretching out into our shared future.
All and all, life seems to be in a healthy place. When I last left Oregon, I had no idea this would be where I would settle down. Putting down some roots has been good for me after so much drifting. Watching my garden grow through the warm months brings me much joy. Every time I see a bee enjoying my flowers I know that things are going to be alright. Well my train is about to arrive, so for now, farewell. I’ll write more soon.
Pride month comes every year, and I always seem to miss writing what it means to me to be part of the LGTBQ+ community. So here it is, in all of its queer glory!
If you pull out an electron microscope and look at my chromosomes, you’ll notice that I have the notorious Y variety. So does that mean that I’m a man? To some folks it certainly does, but to me my gender is much more complex than my Y chromosomes. Yes I am a male bodied person. My body structure follows that Y chromosome, wider shoulders, longer bones, and lean muscle. I’ve got a testosterone fueled metabolism and emotional reactivity as well as a face full of hair and a receding hairline. Starting to sound just like a man right?
Still not really, or at least, not all the time. To me gender has two distinct parts, our gender identity and our gender expression. The identity is what it feels like on the inside to be us, the expression, what we show the world through our posture, hair, and clothing. I identify as non-binary, meaning I don’t particularly feel like I’m entirely a man, or entirely a woman, rather something in between. Imagine the body of a man with the heart of a woman. Tall, lean and steady on the outside, but empathic, tender and emotional on the inside. All and all it’s something very beautiful, a dynamic expression of my complex self.
I feel most comfortable when I’m androgynous, expressing myself as somewhere in the middle of the two gender extremes. I like to dress in bright clothes, and often wear weird gender bending stuff. Purple pants, flower print skirts, rainbow scrubs, silk & lace and grandma shorts, really anything that is out of the ordinary. Instead of blending in to match those around me, I dress to stand out, to be bright, confident, sexy, and unique. It’s not for everyone, but to me, it’s exactly who I am.
I choose to identify with they / them pronouns to better define myself as a androgynous, non-binary person. I try to do it in subtle ways, and accept that friends, family, and myself often still misgender me. If you’re woke enough to understand, we can have that talk, otherwise I just take the he / him / sirs as a typical response to those Y chromosomes. But if you really want to make my day, gives those them pronouns a try next time you’re talking to (about) me.
So what about my sexuality? I identify as pansexual, meaning I’m sexually attracted to people of all types of genders. The less heteronormative you are, the hotter you’ll be to me. Generally I seek women for my romantic and sexual relationships. In my dreams I am a lesbian lover. I’m gay for women, as they allow me the space to express my inner woman. As a feminist, I battle with my own maleness, disappointed in the toxic masculinity that dominates our culture. Women are our future and my greatest hope.
Gay men would be much less disappointed if I was more gay. Looking back I see so many close male relationships that had plenty of homoerotic undertones. But I’ve always been afraid or oblivious, too caught up in homophobic culture and too unsure of myself. Always believing I’d somehow need to be straight passing to survive. I’ve had some homoerotic experiences that were exciting and satisfying, but I still need more healing to truly embrace my gayest self. And like I said, I really love the ladies.
Bisexual partners enjoy my fluid gender expression, long and limber while soft and tender. I don’t want to just swing both ways, I want to swing all the ways. Similarly, I don’t yet identify as Trans as I feel more comfortable in the middle than expressing myself a woman. The weights of transphobia in our culture is a heavy weight to bear. Transfolks have an average life expectancy of 31 years. Gender dysphoria is a sense that your body doesn’t match who you really are. As I continue to heal and grow I embrace the complexities of my gender, the inner identity and the outer expression.
Queer best describes me. I’ve always been weird and know that weirdness in others attracts me. The complexity, diversity, and nuance of my gender identity is what makes me seem unique. As I channel my inner queer, I create space for other people to be weird and non-normal. Maybe this answers some of your questions about who I am, maybe it creates all kinds of new questions. Let’s talk about it. Having language to understand who we are helps us to recognize and respect differences in others. I know my heart is at peace finding out who I truly am, instead of trying to fit myself into a heteronormative person I’m not.
freewheelingdylan 