Just Audrey

By Audrey Carver

Like an idiot, I came to Ecuador carrying expectations.

In August I looked ahead and saw “cool traveler adventurer Audrey,” the girl that could solve any problem. The girl that could speak fluent Spanish, change the world with her art, and maybe has a cool haircut. Independent, strong, and a citizen of the world: I saw myself as I thought that I should be, every secret aspiration candy-coated with stereotypes.

And now, over halfway through, I am dealing with the consequences of that notion of who I should be. Because I am not that girl. I am still scared and stressed and homesick sometimes, I still occasionally get lost, and I still worry about what I am doing here. I still feel like I have wasted time, and I still don’t really like eating guinea pig.

But while I am not the girl that I thought that I should be, I am also not the girl that I was. Coming from such a small town, my reputation had proceeded me. I had been Audrey the valedictorian, Audrey the vandal, Audrey the loud artist, Audrey the big fish in a small pond, Audrey the ambitious, Audrey the feminist, Audrey the creative. Identity upon rumor, I was known for many things, and other people’s expectations often proceeded me.

And now, sitting here in Ecuador, I am neither who I expected to become, or who people in my past thought that I was. I have settled into just Audrey. Coming to a place where nobody knew (or could pronounce) my name gave me the chance to forget about who other people thought that I was. I am imperfect, independent, creative, loud, ambitious, scared, and silly. I have not gotten rid of my imperfections or reputations, I have been forced to embrace them. I have learned to feel stupid when I could not understand something, and I have learned to feel proud of myself when I can. I have learned how to live in a city, and I have gotten better at making friends. Living here has taught me to enjoy my own company, and to embrace things that do not make sense to me. Overall, I have learned to be gentle on myself, and to let go. Instead of becoming what anyone expected, I have just become me, settled into my body and my personality in a way that I have not been before. I still do not fully understand this new version of myself, but now that’s OK, because nobody here pretends to either. I will still come back to Idyllwild differently than I left it, but instead of returning as “perfect, citizen-of-the-world, social justice warrior, fearless, adventurous Audrey”, I will just be me. And I could not be happier.

Thoughts on 13th, School, and Prison

By Katherine Wang


Last Friday, my team and I watched Ava DuVernay’s 2016 documentary, 13th, during our monthly social justice talk. As someone who usually only has the attention span for animated movies and sitcom television, I want to highly recommend this documentary. I’d consider 13th to be “required viewing” for anyone living in America.

The documentary starts off with an ominous reminder of the loophole in the 13th Amendment: “Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.” In other words, all people are free… except those indicted for crime. Quoted from the documentary, “If you have [“except as a punishment for crime”] embedded in the structure, in this constitutional language, then it’s there to be used as a tool for whichever purposes one wants to use it.”

This loophole was immediately exploited. States began criminalizing black people for minor crimes. A law preaching “freedom” turned into something that allowed for the mass incarceration of black and brown people. A statistic mentioned in the documentary said that 1 in 3 black males born today will go to prison in their lifetime, compared with 1 in 6 Latino males, and 1 in 17 white males. Continue reading

Nicaragua – A Gap Year in Photos

By Brenna Trollinger

Roof of the main Cathedral in León

During my time as a Tufts 1+4 Nicaragua Fellow, my worldview has significantly expanded through this rich cultural experience. I appreciate the chance to encounter people and places in different walks of life from rural mountain areas, to coastal towns to vibrant city life in Leon. Through my internship and through independent travel, I have documented my time here in a series of photos. From rural schools to active volcanoes, I continue to fall more in love with this amazing country and the diversity of life here.

Fireworks during La Gritería, a Holiday that celebrates the Virgin Mary

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My 1+4 Story: Elizabeth Kenneally

By Elizabeth Kenneally

Something I loved about playing violin was erratic and surprising improvement. I would seem to plateau for weeks, even months, working hard but without apparent payoff. My violin teacher would say “have you even touched the violin this week?” in a lesson for which I had practiced two or more hours a day. Then suddenly I would be playing one day and everything would seem easier. The shifts all landed, my tempo was even, my vibrato controlled. Those days made it all worth it. When my teacher would say “I can tell you’ve been practicing.” Because with hard work comes reward. It eventually pays off.

All of a sudden, Spanish stuck. Subjunctive rolled off my tongue without me conjugating or practicing beforehand. I would have real conversations without people slowing down or simplifying their words. I could understand jokes, make jokes of my own, and pick up on the passive aggressive tension in my office. People I talked to for the first time in a while all commented on how much I’d improved. I’m not fluent, I might never actually have a passable accent, and some conversations still leave me wondering if I have functioning ears or even a functioning brain, but I have improved so much. I can understand kids when they talk, understand nearly every word in office meetings, actually talk in those office meetings, understand my host mom on the phone, and talk to my brother’s friends about TV shows without once having to say “mande?” or “no entiendo.” Taxi drivers understand the address I tell them the first time, and sometimes people don’t immediately ask where I’m from in conversation. And it’s really cool. It’s really cool to see marked improvement in something I have struggled with for so long, something I sort of gave up hope on improving.

Too Good at Goodbyes

By Trevor Hall

Sometimes, I feel as if I have an extra subconscious in Brazil.

Tchau Tchau

Besides abacaxi, muito, and beleza, these words are the most common I speak in Portuguese. I like the feeling the farewell has as it rolls around in a rhythmic circle in my mouth. No, I do not enjoy saying goodbyes to everyone I meet here in this welcoming country. I am actually thrilled to practice my broken, gringo Portuguese whenever I have a moment. In fact, departing from conversations is quite challenging here because the majority of people love rambling on about how cold the weather is whenever it drops below 70 degrees. Through learning and being immersed in a new language, I am constantly inside my head. My new subconscious presses me to use different parts of my brain while tearing my confidence into shreds. And although my high confidence is torn apart, I have had time to realize I have a phenomenal opportunity right in front of me to start new again in another language. In this experience thus far, I have identified things that I never had recognized before. And during this reflection time that is filled with conflicted ideas I cannot grasp, I noticed that I am very good at goodbyes—hence why tchau tchau is a common phrase I use.

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