Today was my first day in grown-up Nicole world. I just left BYU, moved to Washington DC, and will begin my fellowship at The Heritage Foundation this week. And this city is serious business. I’m so glad Sarah (my roommate) was willing to drive out with me and stay a few days. I have a hard time with starting over, and she just brings a measure of comfort and familiarity that is so welcome and appreciated right now.
Went to bed (gladly) around 11pm last night (9pm my time, mind you). And slept soundly until the alarm jolted me from sleep at 4am. (6am DC time, but you know what I mean.) It was violent. But I got up, determined to start my life out here right, said my prayers, brushed my teeth, and hopped in the shower. I have to be out the door by 7:30 to catch the bus for my hour and a half commute, and want to leave plenty of time not to be late.
Sarah and Victoria, her niece, were taking the same bus, but in opposite directions, to meet up with her brother and a group of HS students he brought out to tour the nation's capital. So we leave together and go our separate ways. Of course it wasn't long until the country mouse ran into problems with the big city. The bus lady was nice enough at explaining the machines for the fare don’t make change, so instead of feeding it $2, keep my other dollar and bring her the .45 cent difference tomorrow. Then she tells me about a smart trip card, where I can get one, and what to do with it. Lesson 1 in public transportation. It has been a long time since I've taken a bus anywhere
Then I take my seat in the back of the bus, ready for a peaceful scripture study with MoTab on the headphones.
Meeep. Try again. Dead batteries for the headphones. Normally, that’s ok, I can still read my scriptures without music. But in the current environment, I needed all the help I could get to create any sort of a semblance of a spiritual environment. I soon noticed that I was the only white person on the bus. It was an entire bus of Hispanics and African American people, talking loudly, listening to music, and full of....a totally different world than I am used to.
I took this subconscious prejudice test that Harvard does, and it told me I had a high fear of black people. I don’t mean to! But maybe it’s because I grew up in the ghetto as the quiet white girl in the back of the bus. And maybe it’s because the population of African Americans in Provo Utah is 5. I just need a little more exposure and acclimation to the real world again. And the way that everyone dresses with half the clothes, and the tattoos, and the smoking and the swearing and the reality of it all was just too much to drown out with absence of MoTab in my earphones.
An hour later, I arrive at the metro station. Not spiritually fortified with a lovely scripture study, and a little jolted at the reality of life that bled in through my ear buds. Rode the metro for a couple of stops, got off at Union Station, and walked to work, right on time. What a contrast between the bus and the metro at Union Station. Suddenly the crowd turned all white, middle class and business attire.
By the way- my work is only 8 miles from my house. It takes an hour and a half to get there. Love the DC traffic.
I’m greeted by Freeda at the front entrance of the Heritage Foundation. I remember her from last time. She's the greeter and the watchdog. The nicest African American woman in the world, and the door guard, who remembers everyone’s name and lets employees in and filters everyone else out. She’s lovely. She took my name and asked me to take a seat while I waited for anyone who knew my name to let me in. I was the first one there from the group I work with.
Kiki- my supervisor- comes in looking much more pregnant than last time, and gives me a hug. How lovely. I quickly notice that my desk is now literally the centerpiece of the office. How delightful. I actually like being in the middle of everything and meeting everyone. It’s just a little awkward how all day long everyone thought I was a secretary. But that’s alright, I can pull double duty.
Kiki gave me a stack of books to read about welfare. Told me about my job doing research and writing. I filled out paperwork for HR- bringing another bout of identity crisis when trying to decide where my permanent residence is and where I should pay tax. They typed up an official offer letter for me and my position- I was quite flattered to see the annual salary was much more than I thought- about $45,000. That’s the best I think I’ve ever been paid for a job. How lovely! It will be nice to get a paycheck soon and have some money again.
Went to an open lecture today on the overcriminilization of American laws, which was interesting, got a free sandwich for lunch, and went upstairs to start my reading. Met one of my supervisors, Robert Rector- a brilliant and socially awkward man, and am excited to work with him on marriage and family policy initiatives.
Discovered my email signature:
Nicole Kay
Graduate Research Fellow
Welfare Fellowship
Feeling pretty official.
When the clock hits 5:30 I begin to sense a familiar feeling- anxiousness about my hour and a half commute home to an empty house and not knowing anyone.
At this point I am so grateful that Sarah is still around- albeit occupied with her family and high school kids touring the nations capitol. But they let me come join them at Iowa Jima and the moment I am with them, all my anxiety vanishes. Amazing how familiarity does that. I will be really sad when she leaves.
Looked at Iowa Jima and went home. Sarah and Victoria and I separated from the group to come back to my house and we took the Orange Line from Rosselyn back to New Carrollton. I think we were over-ambitious thinking we’d be able to just find a bus that came down our road at 8pm at night. But we found a bus that went on Good Luck Road and waited for 30 minutes for it, after finding out a taxi would be $18. Met a Christian rapper friend whom Sarah encouraged in conversation, who was convinced he was a prophet. Sold his CDs of rapping hymns for $1 each.
After riding on the bus for awhile, I realize we are going in the wrong direction, and we get off. 2 miles in the wrong direction. So we walk. And walk and walk in the dark night in the ghetto in Prince George's County in Maryland. And while I might have been afraid on my own, I felt an obligation to protect Sarah and Victoria. I’m glad we were together. After both Sarah and Victoria said they had blisters and needed a break, I ran the rest of the distance home and went and got the car. It was a loooooooong walk home. We got home about 10:30, only to go to bed and start all over again in 8 hours. That is a long long long day and commute.
I think I’m going to move closer to the city…
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