Late Night (or Mid-Day) Ramblings

It is at that point in the flight where I legitimately have no sense of what time it is.  While my computer clock says 12:14PM, I did not know what time zone that was in.  So I pulled out my phone and it says 9:14AM – must mean they are east coast and west coast times, respectively, making it 2:14AM in Sydney.  The screen says five hours until arrival, which puts us in a half hour late – hopefully things will still work out with Kylie picking me up.  Right now we are (as you would imagine) over the Pacific, just north of some small islands (for some reason the map isn’t labeled) which sit a few hundred miles north of New Zealand.  I apologize for my lack of geographic knowledge as regards Pacific islands, my lack of internet access to look it up on the plane, and the fact that I refuse to go back and edit this when I go to put it online.

After I finished up dinner and the movie I went to sleep.  I think I slept about five hours, waking up just in time for the mid-flight snack service.  While I wasn’t really hungry, I figured I should at least give it a try.  I was brought a platter (complete with ONLY four pieces of silverware) which had “seasonal fresh fruit” (pineapple, honeydew, and grapes), a “selection of finger sandwiches” (which included salmon, turkey and cheese with pickle and tomato, and egg, pepper, and olives), and a chocolate truffle cake and a nice glass of orange juice.

 

Admittedly I couldn’t even get half way through the food, but enjoyed the pineapple, truffle, and the salmon sandwich.  While I ate I watched an episode of Parks and Recreation and followed it up with a documentary about Journey (I think it was called Don’t Stop Believin’) which followed them as their new lead singer (Arnel), someone from the streets of Manila, became a full-fledged member, touring and recording with them for the first time.  It was a fantastic story (one I didn’t know), and I really love Journey, so the music was enjoyable.  And, it got me thinking…  (If you read my blog last year, you know that I can get pensive from time to time.  If that is not your cup of tea than I recommend you skip over the next few paragraphs.)

Exactly six years ago (within a week – I don’t remember the exact date) I attended the Georgia Governors Honors Program.  I won’t bore you with the details of it, but basically it was a six week immersive residential program sponsored by the state where 700 of the “best and brightest” rising high school juniors and seniors participate in academic study in a selected field (after fairly rigorous testing and interviews) in Valdosta.  I majored in history, minored in architecture, and met the most incredible people.  I wrote my college essays on the experience, I returned in 2010 to be an RA for the program to give back the experience to others, and one of my closest friends to this day is someone I met that first night at GHP.  It just so happens that our song for the summer (every year the RAs choose a song to end each weekly dance with and it becomes the theme of the summer) was Don’t Stop Believin’. While no doubt hackneyed, it holds a very special place in my heart.

So when I watched the movie, and the song came on in snippets, it got me thinking.  The movie showed them at the Old Greek Theatre in Griffith Park in Los Angeles, where I visited today (or yesterday, or two days ago – time zones are hard!).  To think of where I have gone and what I have done in the six years from GHP to this plane seat.  I’ve filled a passport with 24 stamps (soon to be 25, and 27 by the time I get back next month). Those stamps tell of a journey (oh my gosh, the symbolism is almost too much to handle).  While at GHP I decided that I would major in architecture.  At GHP I decided I liked transit planning.  The groundwork that I laid that summer made me ultimately decide to pursue the history degree as well.  My time at Tulane took me to and through four continents (some more than others).  My passions that I discovered at GHP guided me to new experiences.  I pushed myself and got encouragement from teachers that I had connected with at GHP.  That I only had for a week as a student.  To this day “Mama” Wright (as Hilary likes to call her) still “likes” my posts on facebook as I gallivant across the world, accomplishing things that I never even would have dreamed of six years ago.

The teachers at GHP told me something on my last day there when I told them I wanted to be an architect.  They said “Michael, you already are.”  It was a confidence that they instilled in me, a desire to go for those things that seem unreachable.  Coupled with that, the encouragement that I found at Tulane, the education that I got, led me to get a Fellowship from the American Institute of Architects and travel through Europe doing research.  It led me to Australia to follow a dream that I had since I was little.  That in itself inspired me to work this past year on my thesis.  And now I’m sitting in a plane (now four hours and twenty minutes from Australia – yes, it takes me a while to write these posts), I’m 22, and I am humbled, I am nervous, and I am excited.  Next week I will present my research to people who are probably twice my age.  That are Australians.  That are architectural historians.  That are Aboriginal land rights experts.  While I am nervous, I am armed with the experiences of the past six years.  I’ve interviewed the director of the London Underground (as some random American 19 year old),  I’ve worked for the City of Sydney doing urban planning (as some random American 21 year old), I’ve danced down the streets of New Orleans at least 25 times, logging over 100 miles in front of a combined 15+ million people – nine of those parades I led a marching band as drum major.

I honestly have no idea what is going to happen in the next few weeks.  I have expectations, and hopes, tempered with reality (and a bit of cynicism I have gained through all of my experiences).

After GHP, I took to referring to it as “the best six weeks of my life.”  While I have had many six weeks since that time, many “trips of a lifetime” along the way, with people, places, and experiences I will cherish forever, I can trace a lot of those motivations, that tenacity with which I try to approach things, back to GHP.  I still feel the same way I did about it, and think I always will.

Now, to slightly switch gears, I am now watching and HBO documentary entitled Citizen USA: A 50 State Road Trip which chronicles a fifty state road trip (shocking) made by a wife and her newly American husband as they look at naturalization ceremonies in each state, meet the new citizens, and discuss their motivations.  So far they have interviewed two people who I had the privilege to see in person back in early 2008 – Madeline Albright and Henry Kissinger, both naturalized citizens who were secretaries of state.  Seeing them speak, and debate, and thinking about their heritages is remarkable.  In all my travels I have loved visiting other countries, and as you know, there is a special place in my heart for Australia, but no matter what, despite getting frustrated sometimes with various things that happen (or don’t happen) in the US and the government, I can’t help but smile and be proud of America as a country, and be proud to be from America.

Anyways, those of you that don’t like my pensive musings can return to reading now…

We are three hours and forty-five minutes out from Sydney at this point, and I will try to sleep at the end of the documentary for a few hours before having breakfast and making sure I have my arrival form filled out properly. 

As the guy at the bar in LA told me – once you fly business it is hard to ever fly “with the cattle” again.  On my next fifteen hour flight when I am not so lucky to “turn left” I will probably miss Westin “heavenly” duvet and pillows, my fine china and cutlery, fine food and wine pairings.  But it is all part of the experiences that I am collecting, and cherishing, as I begin the post-graduate chapter of my life!  And what a way to begin.