When I get a little money I buy books; and if any is left I buy food and clothes.

^ True story for grad school.

Every so often I get an email, Facebook message or Tweet from undergraduates or recent graduates who want information on coming to America to work or study. I understand that the process can be daunting, so I'm going to attempt to answer the most common questions. In addition, I'd like to encourage all my readers to think very seriously about the personal and financial implications of going to graduate school, especially abroad. My experience of graduate school, while not perfect, has ultimately been fulfilling, and I want that to be the case for as many people as possible.

I'm speaking with an American Studies background, so this is probably most relevant to Humanities students. Unfortunately I don't know much about other disciplines, but hopefully some of this information will still be useful. If I haven't answered your questions in this post, please leave a comment here and I will try to get back to you with my own knowledge or other resources. Also, if you have any questions about me/my life trajectory in general, please let me know as I am attempting to make a blog FAQ!

On to the questions...

The Application

 Why should I apply for graduate school in the US?

My number one reason for applying to graduate school in the US was that I believed an MA in Southern Studies at the University of Mississippi was perfect for me. I was in love. It was The One.

That's the most simple answer: because you really, really want to. But the other benefits that I will mention are the great funding opportunities, the length of the program (2 years as opposed to 1 year at home), and the fact that it's more chance to do relevant field work (in American Studies) and get a daily experience of a foreign culture. It's also excellent for making global connections and showing employers that you can achieve something truly impressive.

Where should I apply?
I'd recommend coming up with a list of possible schools to apply to. How many you actually apply to is up to you (and bear in mind that there are application fees for each); I know people that applied to just 1, 3 or as many as 10. Start with a good ol' Google search of MA programs and get a feel for what draws you in when it comes to program content, location and funding opportunities. I'll try to go into detail about each (see also Money Matters section below).

Think first about the program, the structure and expectations, the classes offered, and the research interests of faculty. Does that fit with the kind of work you wish to do? How much are you willing to learn new skills versus working in the same way that you did for your BA? Don't be afraid to reach out to potential departments to ask questions and get a feel for whether or not you'd fit there. I think that I asked my director for information on the demographics of the program, past theses topics and what jobs graduates had gone on to do.

Now consider the university itself. What do you need or expect from campus life? Think about size, facilities (library, fitness center), housing options, extracurricular opportunities, and anything else you would have thought about for applying for the BA and year abroad. Is that more or less important than the program itself? To be honest, on paper Ole Miss is not my ideal university. I don't identify with a lot of the undergraduate culture, which is heavily invested in sports and Greek organizations. It's not the easiest school to attend as a minority or international student. But I love my program and my department and ultimately I recognize that it was a brave choice for me. I knew it wouldn't be a cushiony experience but that it would make me grow a lot as a person.

On a related note, would you rather live in a college town or city? I consider myself to be more of a city person, but I keep ending up in the small-town South. That is mostly due to my research interests, but also due to cost. More on that later.

This is just my suggestion, but if you have already done a year abroad it might be worth thinking about going back to the same region. I've lived in the US for almost 3 years in total, but only the South. If you stuck me in Alaska or Michigan I would not know what was going on. Coming back to the South somewhat limited the culture shock the second time around.

How do I apply?
I applied for my MA through the British Association of American Studies. You can see where the available awards are listed here. (The application to go this year is closed, as the deadline was November 29.) BAAS has specific programs that they find candidates for, and the places are not necessarily repeated year to year. I would recommend applying for BAAS at the same time as doing traditional applications, unless there's only one place that interests you. My application to BAAS was similar to the traditional route, except I had an interview with a panel and was competing for one place.

For the traditional application, go on to the department's website to see what you need to do. Sometimes you will need to apply through the graduate school first, and it varies as to whether it is all online or by post. Please note that deadlines for the US are not like ours in the UK, meaning that they are usually from October to February and are not open up until the program starts. Some programs require you to submit other items to be considered for financial aid and/or a graduate assistantship, but others consider you automatically.

What do I need to do beforehand?
Most applications will require a personal statement of some kind, a transcript and 2-3 letters of recommendation. Many graduate schools also require a GRE score with your application. I've never been convinced that departments really pay much attention to the GRE, although I've heard it can be used as a way to decide funding. There are several centers in the UK where you can take the test.

Money Matters

What funding is available for me?
This depends so much on your school and department. Some departments provide funding for every student on the program. Others provide partial funding. The amount will vary between departments at the same school, too. This information is usually available on their websites but you can also email to clarify. You may get accepted into a few different graduate schools but not be offered funding everywhere.

There is more information on Graduate Assistantships below, which is how I've been funded. There are also external funding bodies available to international postgraduates, information for which is available on the Fulbright website here.

What are the other costs associated with graduate study?
These are some of the things I had to pay for. Open up your currency converter to see it in sterling!

F1 Student Visa and SEVIS: $160 and $200

Flights: Dependent on location and season (much cheaper from NYC than Memphis!). Anywhere between $500-1,200 is likely. Factor in how often you think you'll visit home or other places.

Fees: Oh American universities do love their fees! At Ole Miss, I pay $100 international student fee per semester, as well as a $50 capital gains fee. I also had costs to register, and more for graduation.

Healthcare: We all know this is important. Excuse the pun, but this may be a hard pill to swallow for British students. My school requires graduate students to enroll on their plan unless you have another one that is suitable (i.e. still on parents' plan). My healthcare plan, at around $1,500 a year, entitles me to doctor visits and prescriptions, but I have to pay $100 for emergency room visits and things like dental care, blood tests and referrals are not covered. It can be really aggravating to see your money disappearing rapidly and yet it doesn't cover much at all compared to what I grew up with. Some departments cover the cost of healthcare, as I understand it, so that's worth doing some research on.

Books/Equipment: Since I came to the US with no books or anything, I spent a lot of money. If I'm remembering correctly, my first semester was about $500, the second $300, the third $200, and the last more like $100 (thank you thesis). It depends on your program. I think the high cost came from the amount of new textbooks, as well as some documentary equipment I purchased. If you have a good library with lots of books available, or access to a credit card, you may be able to do a return system rather than buying them.

Living costs: I don't want to say, "Assume the worst!" but I do want to say that this can be surprising. As I live in Mississippi, people assume that I am enjoying the cheapest lifestyle in the world. Er, no. Rent is cheap, gas is cheap, restaurant food is comparatively cheaper than the UK. Supermarket food is extortionate (2-3x what I paid in Norwich), phone bill is certainly more and I've been hit by enormous bills during the cold weather period. In a city, it would likely be cheaper food and phone bills, but much higher rent. Bear in my that the US tends to have fewer options for furnished accommodation, so you may need to budget for furniture, kitchen items, etc.

Some graduate and/or international departments will provide a breakdown of expected costs, so it's worth checking those websites for more information.

Agh! Can I please get another job on the side?
Your student visa only entitles you to a certain number of hours on campus. It is not legal for you to work off campus. During the summer time, you can work extra hours on campus or off campus through OPT (more on that below).

Is it worth taking out more loans? How can I afford this?
Taking out loans is a decision only you can make. America has a much different attitude to debt than the UK, so I do know people that have loans they will never pay off and it doesn't bother them at all. I think that's a big reason why so much gets so ludicrously expensive on a college campus, as no one seems to talk about the fact that not everyone in school is financially comfortable. I was actually not completely informed of the financial implications of graduate school before I got out here (hence why I'm being so detailed now) so I was faced with that dilemma at a later date.

I think that you should do your best to get as much funding as possible, assess what personal savings and family contributions are available to you, then consider how much of a shortfall you have. If you think that you could reasonably pay that amount back once you're employed, and you think the experience would be really, really worth it, then that is something worth considering.

Daddy Free would also want me to say: remember to stick to your Excel spreadsheet budget.

Work and Study

What is a Graduate Assistantship?
A Graduate Assistantship usually entitles you to a full or partial tuition waiver, as well as a stipend (wage). I am on a 20 hour assistantship, which means I work for that many hours and it entitles me to a full tuition waiver. Observing the English and History departments, the work more often than not seems to involve teaching an entry level course. Southern Studies is unusual in that a lot of us are doing different jobs for the department (teaching assistance, documentary assistance, working with the Southern Foodways Alliance) and some of us get rotated each semester. In my time at Ole Miss I have worked as a research assistant for a professor and for the Mississippi Encyclopedia project, worked as a Teaching Assistant, worked at the University of Mississippi Museum and now at Rowan Oak, William Faulkner's house.

There are also other assistantships available outside of the department, for example I have friends who are funded by the international office.

What is the workload like?
Like American undergrad, the structure is a lot of different work - presentations, short papers - but it is much more difficult than what most people experience during their year abroad. At the end of each semester there are substantial final projects. I often whine that graduate school is the worst blend of the British and American system, but it's been good for me to have to learn to turn around short papers quickly and juggle between reading and working on a final project. I also loved that I got to take classes outside of the department, although they do have to be relevant.

Also, for undergraduates who are currently working on or have just finished a dissertation: I basically write 3 dissertations at the end of each semester. I'd like to say a lot was written by mid-semester, but that would be a lie... I have done too many all-nighters to count. But basically no writing assignment can make me nervous anymore!

I'm not sure if I want a career in academia. Should I still go to graduate school?
I'm of the opinion that if you are dead-set against a career in academia, you probably shouldn't do a Ph.D for the fun of it. (Is that even possible?) But a Master's is a different ball game, or at least it can be. Dr. Tom Smith, who was my dissertation supervisor at UEA, warned me that instead of just thinking about academia I should think about what aspects I was interested in (e.g. writing, teaching, publishing) and consider pursuing that instead.

So I went against his advice! But only because my program was non-traditional, with the opportunity to learn about documentary, foodways, music and have a truly interdisciplinary approach to cultural studies. I entered my program thinking there was a big chance I would want to get a Ph.D (except I would do it back in the UK, thanks for that advice Professor Bigsby!). Now that I'm at the end of it, I think it's more likely that I won't, but the program was absolutely not a waste to me. It gave me the confidence to decide what I really wanted to do, and gave me the skills to do it.

If you think you should go to graduate school because you're not sure what else to do, I want you to stop that train of thought immediately. I am passionate about my work, and most of the time I love what I do. But it's exhausting. It's so hard. There will be no one there to hold you hand if you start to lose motivation or confidence - you have to be able to push yourself. Where that drive comes from is individual - whether it's a PhD or a job or a personal desire to better yourself - but it needs to be something that is present in one way or another, rather than an absence of other goals.

Employment

What options do I have to work after studying?
After completing a degree in the US, you can apply for an Optional Practical Training year at a cost of $380, sometimes with an internal fee of around $100. The job must be relevant to your area of study. Two friends of mine have applied for OPT and are going to be working in international and student outreach departments at the university. You can apply for OPT during the summer if you want to get an off campus job, but you must deduct the time you spend working from the overall 12 months. More information on OPT is - where else?! - on Wikipedia.

But what if I don't want to study?
This is bad news for Humanities students. Unless you work in a STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, Mathematics) field, it's difficult to apply for a work visa. These types of visas are called petition-based, which mean that your employer sponsors you to come out or stay to work. Jobs that favor humanities candidates are generally not rolling in it so they often won't consider international candidates, especially those that do not have established careers. But I will say that I don't personally know tons about it, so I will try to find out more in time if there is anyone that still wants to consider that route.

However, there are some options still available to you right now. BUNAC offers both summer work visas (£495+) to recent graduates/current students, as well as internship opportunities available to everyone (£699+). Other organizations such as the Mountbatten Institute offer city-based internships alongside a business postgraduate qualification.

Life Abroad

What will my social life be like?
My experience has been that it is much harder to make friends in graduate school. I have a select few close friends who I speak to or see regularly, compared to a larger group of friends/acquaintances as an undergrad. Some people come to graduate school with a spouse/family, or they have a whole life back at home and they see the 2 years as just temporary. I was honestly surprised by how many people come to graduate school with no desire to make new friends. But I should also add that I'm not a social butterfly, and I'm sure the experience would vary enormously according to cohort, location, etc. I will have a lifelong bond with the friends I have made here, as we have gone through a lot of stressful times together, and many of us share similar career aspirations.

A quick word on dating... I can't tell anyone what to do, but whether you are single or taken, please think about how more time abroad will impact your personal life. When I got into graduate school I was already in a steady relationship, and we had many conversations to make sure that we were clear on each others' goals and the fact that time apart was necessary to achieve them. Long distance relationships can and do work, but it's another challenge that is not necessarily the best decision for everyone. If you are single, consider that meeting someone abroad can also be a difficult path to go down. I don't want to say anything simplistic about putting love before work or work before love, but there needs to be a happy balance that works for you.

How necessary is it for me to be able to drive?
It's not a deal breaker if you are in a big city where there is public transportation. If you are in a more rural area, life is going to be significantly more challenging without a car. During my year abroad in Chapel Hill, I paid more rent to live closer to campus, I went grocery shopping little and often so I could carry it home and walk (which Americans still thought was insane!), and there were bus links to surrounding areas like Durham and Raleigh. Although Oxford is making headway with longer bus hours and a new Megabus, when I first moved there it was extremely restrictive - no buses on weekends or past 6, changes in order to get to the grocery store, no public transport to Memphis/New Orleans. I think it's totally fine if you're an exchange student and have the time/patience to deal with it, but as a working Master's student it was extremely stressful for me to never know when I could grocery shop, to strain my back carrying a ton of library books and to have to deal with any and all weather conditions. I like to think it made me a stronger person (!) but looking back I wish I'd got the driving stuff figured out ahead of time.

Gas prices are significantly cheaper than the UK, but buying a used car is a lot more expensive. My insurance is a lot because I'm not on any kind of family plan or whatever. But for all the stress, I am in love with my car and so happy to finally have my license (as of a month ago!). The test was hilarious to me. I will write a post on that one day.

How do I know if going abroad is right for me?
In many ways, I wasn't exactly ready to go abroad again. I'd had a difficult time in Chapel Hill, and my last year at UEA was sometimes very lonely and confusing. I felt like I'd been moving around so much and that I had no home anymore. I almost didn't apply, but luckily the few people I mumbled to about the opportunity pushed me to do so. Once I'd done the application, I realized that I really, really wanted to go.

I will say that I think I couldn't have handled graduate school here if I hadn't already done a year abroad. I still had culture shock and homesickness and the whole shebang, but I did have more confidence in myself, more knowledge in the region, and friends/family who were a shorter distance away in North Carolina.

What have been your most positive experiences as an international student/ex-pat?
I have some silly things to say and some serious. First of all, it really gets old when people make fun of your accent after so many years, but I have to admit that even I get a kick out of how I sound. My two British ex-pat friends and I joke about our weird hybrid accents, none of which sound the same as each other. You never know when a forgotten British word is going to come flying out to the confusion of all around you, or if you're going to pass as American to someone who's not paying attention.

I enjoy the superficial aspects of my ex-pat identity, like my accent, my noticeable fashion choices (no shorts and T-shirt on this London girl) and how people always want to know my life story. But really what has changed most is on the inside. I have a better understanding of how culture functions, how your ideas, your tastes, your prejudices are so sharply shaped by where you grow up. I've had to confront so much about myself, what I want and what is holding me back. The hardest part of all has been to realize that I'm not nearly nice enough to myself every day, and that that will destroy me if I can't learn how. Being away from the comfort of home - my family, my friends, my culture - has forced me to look at myself more closely, too.

The most positive aspect of everything that I've done is undoubtedly the people I've met. I've had many wonderful teachers and mentors here, who helped me develop and pursue my ideas for my writing and future career. I've made friends that I survived a car crash with, that I've travelled with, that I've turned to when I felt like I was losing my mind. I met the love of my life in Chapel Hill, as well as my two bridesmaids. My life is now here in the South, as well as in England.

*

I truly hope that this helps many of you to think about your futures, whether in academia, abroad or otherwise. Please let me know if I can answer any more questions - or if there are any other topics you'd like covered on this blog! Graduation is looming, which means I will finally have more time to update regularly.

Now let us drink the stars, it's time to steal away. Let's go get lost right here in the USA.

I hope my lack of blog entries can be a testament to how busy my first year at Ole Miss was. Luckily, I’ve been keeping notes, so while I still have a few study-free days left, I’m going to write several entries. I hope you enjoy them!

[Written September 2, 2012] Hello, finally, from Oxford, where it truly is a dark and stormy night. Outside it is a cacophony of rain fall, thunderclaps, wind and rustling branches. Inside, I’ve had several cups of tea to calm myself down as the dog roams around barking (the kitten is completely unafraid and smug). I have five (!) books still to finish in time for this week’s classes. I have an essay about a truck contest to write. But I have been in America almost a month and, apart from a few scribbled notes, have not had a chance to write about it yet. I figure I will never be any less busy, so now is as good a time as any.

Of course I want to write about Oxford. I’ve been dreaming of the Faulknerland since I was nineteen; it’s amazing that I’m actually living here. It is a wonderful place for so many reasons, but best of all it already feels like home. The thing is, I have the next two years to bore you all with Oxford-related gushing. And it just so happens that I have other stories to bore you with first. I flew to San Francisco on August 8, and drove* for five days to get to Mississippi. So first of all I want to take you through some musings related to that. Please, no hatred from any Brits about putting the month before the date, I need to get in the habit!

*And when I say “drove”, I mean sitting in the passenger seat eating Rainbow cookies, worrying aloud about Ole Miss and taking pictures of billboards and cornfields whilst my boyfriend sat behind the wheel the whole time.

08/08: London, UK to San Francisco, CA

During my ten hour flight, I came to a conclusion: airplanes bring out the worst in people. Cramped, tired and always enduring the screams of children, airline passengers must be the worst customers ever. Everyone is so demanding and unfriendly in a way that I feel sure they would not be in any other setting. Fellow passengers were especially demanding and unfriendly due to a malfunction with the entertainment sets, which meant no TV or music for the first two hours of the flight. I, of course, came prepared. I sat reading Bill Bryson and tried not to laugh out loud. I’m sure I must have been quite a sight, grinning widely in a crowd of frowns and pursed lips. If I am ever even a fraction as good as Bill Bryson I will die happy. Also, I’m not entirely convinced he and my dad are separate people.

I was more cheerful on this flight than usual – as it happens I’m afraid of flying. A lot of my positivity has to do with Virgin Atlantic. They truly are the best airline I’ve ever experienced; the staff is helpful, the entertainment selection is usually great (when working!) and I actually really like the food. And they were very nice to me that time I fainted in the middle of the aisle back in January [2012]. Now, if they would pay me for endorsing them publicly I would like them even better. Graduate school is expensive!

My cheeriness was waning by the end of the flight, however. Someone had rapped on the bathroom door in a most demanding and unfriendly manner as I washed my face and brushed my teeth. I am as courteous as possible on a plane, and this, I felt, gave me the right to take the tiniest bit longer in the bathroom. But apparently not. I harrumphed back to my seat and was then slumped on by the people next to me for the remainder of the flight. It is very odd to constantly have a child’s feet or head in your lap when you do not know them. I vowed to never let my own future children loll about like that on a plane, and squirmed Britishly for the last hour.

After queuing for another hour and a half, I somehow still had the adrenaline to ignore my coccyx injury and haul my own at-the-weight-limit suitcases off the conveyor belt. I was thankfully still awake enough to recognize my boyfriend at the gate rather than absentmindedly trying to board a plane to Canada or something (“Must. Be. In. Commonwealth.”). We got in the car, drove through San Francisco, and for some reason covered the topics of drugs, drunk driving and guns within the first hour. I shifted in my seat and fought the urge to run, on foot, back to the airport to go home. I stayed awake through the evening, which I spent with Chip, his roommate Marie, and Tar Heel friends Katie, David and Amanda. We ordered Chinese, which was a huge amount of food for a small amount of money. Ah yes, I’m back in the USA.

08/09: San Francisco, CA to Elko, NV

Chip and I set out in the car the next morning, circling back five minutes later to collect the coolbox. (But not, as it turns out, my Topshop sandals, which still reside on his bedroom floor.) Then, since we had delayed ourselves already, we decided to go grocery shopping. I was very pleased about this, as my greatest hang up about doing a road trip (or being in America generally!) is not having adequate access to fruit. Since we were running late already I didn’t get a chance to dance around the grocery store exclaiming over every item. Don’t worry, that blog entry will come.

I was sad to leave San Francisco so soon. It’s one of my favorite cities where I have made such great memories, and I still dream of living there one day. However, we drove over the Bay Bridge, northeast to Sacramento, Lake Tahoe and Reno. We listened to only a little bit of Rush Limbaugh. And what can I tell you about Nevada? We left the greenery and rivers of California for dusty, open space. We drove for hours without seeing much of anything. We had no radio or cell phone coverage. We passed gas stations, each one looking the same, except sometimes with the addition of a casino. I was surprised by how many bits of tyres (or tires!) there were on the road. Then, just as I was starting to get bored, actual tumbleweeds rolled in front of us on the highway.

We reached Elko in the evening, passing a small roadside community on the way in. The little part of Elko we saw had chain restaurants, an RV park and some surprisingly high-priced hotels. Interestingly, Elko has a “boom and bust” economy based on the price of gold; a large amount of Nevada’s gold is mined there and the town has many abandoned mining camps. As Hunter S. Thompson wrote in his short story, Fear and Loathing in Elko, “The federal government owns 90% of this land, and most of it is useless for anything except weapons testing and poison-gas experiments.” But clearly there is more to it than this. Elko hosts the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering every January, and has done for almost 30 years. I don’t know about you, but that sounds like a good time to me.

The hotel we stayed in was much the same as many I’ve experienced in the US. I always wonder how they came to decide on the exact same breakfast:  a waffle iron with batter next to it, cold hard-boiled eggs, cheap muffins/donuts, white bread with peanut butter or jam in plastic pots, yoghurt, questionable-looking fruit, cereal in dispensers and some juice, tea and coffee. I’ve seen the same selection as far-flung as Georgia, Texas and Colorado. You could see the same America in any given hotel. I don’t know whether that’s comforting or creepy.

08/10: Elko, NV to Laramie, WY

Back on the road, Nevada continued to be flat, dry and empty. We were cheered up, however, by a lady waving at us from a neighboring car; we understood as they passed us and we saw their South Carolina license plate. Southerners unite! We eventually crossed into the mountains of Utah, and I became engrossed in the selection of billboards at the side of the road. The billboards gave me a number to call if I was in debt, informed me that evolution was an evil myth, praised the immigrant population and encouraged me to “hail to the beef” at a local restaurant.

But what you really want to know about is Salt Lake City. We drove around it for a bit out of curiosity. It is a big place: spacious, beautiful, and more than a little bit freaky. It’s impossible to be in Salt Lake City without constantly thinking, “Is that person over there a Mormon? Do they know that I’m not a Mormon?! Oh, there’s the North Carolina license plate. They probably do know I’m not a Mormon. Maybe they don’t mind. Are they looking at me?” I’m not really speaking to Mormonism or Mormon people. It is not something I’m particularly educated about, unless you count Angels in America and Mitt Romney. But sometimes the reputation of something gets under your skin all the same, and that’s how I felt there. Not a mature or informed approach of course, but a truthful one if nothing else.

We exchanged the close-range mountains of Utah for the endlessly wide feel of Wyoming. The spaciousness and high altitude made me nervous. You absolutely cannot get that same feeling in the UK, that you are in the middle of nowhere. It was like being on another planet. I was relieved when we finally arrived at our hotel in Laramie, with lots of buildings and people surrounding us. I know that plenty of people were shocked that I chose to move voluntarily to a place as different as Mississippi, but I will take humidity and DFE (Deep Fried Everything) over high altitude, headaches and nosebleeds any day. No offense, Wyoming – you’re just out of my league and I know it.

Laramie is home to the University of Wyoming, the only university in the state. It is also home to Kirsty Callaghan, fellow UEA American Studies graduate and the recipient of the BAAS award in 2011. Since we knew we would be passing through Wyoming anyway, Kirsty and I arranged to meet at a microbrewery called, fittingly, Altitude. We talked cowboys, attitudes to land and the upcoming election. Kirsty had been volunteering for the local Democrats (apparently a caller once complained about her English accent and the fact that they were clearly outsourcing) despite the fact that Wyoming is typically a Republican state. I’ll get into this another time, but the Republicanism in Wyoming seems to be based more on living far from Washington DC and wanting freedom to do what they wish in their huuuuuge open spaces, compared to those in the South who think much more about social hierarchy and staying true to tradition. It is interesting to think of how in a country of this size, political parties have to appeal to people of so many different cultures.

08/11: Laramie, WY to Kansas City, MO

We left Laramie in the morning, looking out for the golden Abraham Lincoln head that Kirsty had told us about. Despite its size, I wasn't able to get a picture of it in time, so here is a link if you're curious (and I know that you are).

[Continued Jan 17, 2013] After this, there really didn’t seem like anything better to do so I fell asleep and when I woke up we were in Nebraska. Go back to sleep, right? Absolutely not! You see, one of my favorite books is Willa Cather’s My Antonia. I even have an audio book in which the narrator sounds suspiciously like Reverend Lovejoy.

[Continued Aug 5, 2013] Okay, so admittedly I don’t have much more to say than that. We drove through Lincoln, which is the capital city of Nebraska and the second most populous after Omaha. I know that not everyone understands these whims, but I absolutely want to return to Nebraska and learn more. I am intrigued by its small population amongst the plains and prairies, and its historical and current race relations between Native Americans, African American migrants and European immigrants. It is also the home of both Warren Buffett and Kool-Aid, so there you go.

I have always been curious about these places that people turn away from, or tell me, “There’s no point in going there – there’s nothing to see.” It is said about many, many US states. If I feel strongly enough about a place, I will ignore the warnings and go anyway. Often I have been rewarded with some amazing discoveries of landscapes, buildings and people. I think you can tell how much I took Michael Palin’s work to heart, especially his view that there is more that brings us together than divides us. I still believe in looking for stories in unlikely places.

We went through Lincoln without pulling over at all. As we waited for a light to change on the outskirts of the city, I rolled down my window, closed my eyes, and listened to the hum of locusts in the grass.

08/12: Kansas City, MO to West Memphis, AK

Two important things to mention about Missouri:

One. I damaged my camera in a town called St Joseph. I was busy puzzling over a billboard (yes, again) about a blood drive boasting about its “FREE AIR CONDITIONING.” I’ll let that one sit with you.

Two. Half of Kansas City is actually in Missouri, half is in Kansas.

Okay, so I know that second one wasn’t really a surprise to most people but I totally didn’t know. I also didn’t know much about Kansas City other than a refrain from a Stray Cats song, but I am always curious and Chip is a barbecue fanatic so we took some time to explore.

I’m going to take a moment to teach some BBQ 101. Settle down, settle down, I know there are disagreements about this. In England, “barbecue” has several definitions. It is first of all an event, reserved for any day that there is the slightest hint of sunshine (“Darling, the Manfredjinsinjins at number 43 are having a barbecue, do we have any Pimm’s?”), a piece of outdoor cooking equipment that you swear at when it refuses to light properly, and an action describing how you cook your beef burgers, sausages, chicken, salmon, corn-on-the-cob or bananas.

In America, barbecue is the food itself, and the culture that surrounds it. Americans do not have a neighborhood barbecue, they have a cook out. They also do not barbecue their food – they grill it. What we call grilling is called broiling here. Stay with me! Anyway, more interesting is the discrepancies between different regions of the US. (I apologize if I butcher several of the details in this explanation.) In North Carolina, barbecue is pork, and the sauce changes by location: vinegar in the east, tomato in the west, a blend in the middle. The pork is shredded (or pulled as we might say) and often served in a bun topped with coleslaw. In Texas, barbecue is beef, and there are many regional differences of technique and sauce within the state. In Kansas City, barbecue can be pork, beef or chicken. That’s about as much as I can condense the topic of southern barbecue without doing a full essay, so please try it if you visit the South or its fringe states. I have sometimes considered becoming a vegetarian, but the thought of barbecue prevents me.

Despite these differences, there is one thing that Americans and Britons have in common when it comes to barbecue: both insist that their definition is the correct one.

08/13: West Memphis, AK to Oxford, MS

We should have learned from Missouri/Kansas that just because a city seems like it’s probably in a certain state doesn’t necessarily mean that it is. We wanted a cheap hotel in Memphis, to check out the closest city to Oxford and have some time to relax before moving me in to my new place, so we didn’t book one right in the center. We booked one in West Memphis, and then became thoroughly confused that our GPS (British: SatNav) couldn’t find it at all. Well, that is because West Memphis is not in Tennessee, like Memphis is. It’s in Arkansas. Go figure.

A question I get asked a lot at home is, “Why is it pronounced Arkansaw?” You lazy people, don’t you know how to use Google? It’s okay, I did it for you. The root of the name is Native American, a Quapaw/Sioux word akakaze meaning “land of downriver people” or “people of the south wind” respectively. The pronunciation is French. Apparently, the pronunciation was a matter of such debate that it was made official in state legislation in 1881. But unfortunately that did not solve all of the problems in Arkansas. It took until 2007 for the state to pass a resolution that the possessive form of the name should be Arkansas’s. Scandal! Scandal!

I didn’t have a chance to see much of Arkansas, but as a neighboring state to Mississippi I hope to do so in the future. When I think of Arkansas, my mind goes to Bill Clinton, the violent desegregation of Little Rock Central High School in 1957, an amazing MFA program at the University of Arkansas, the arming of teachers at Clarksville High School and the headquarters of Walmart. On our drive through Arkansas, we stopped at the most antiquated gas station we had encountered so far. We also drove behind two horse-drawn buggies. I had never connected Amish culture to Arkansas, but later research revealed that there is in fact one community in Sturkie, which we must have been near.

But back to the journey. We left Arkansas, and West Memphis, for Memphis Proper in Tennessee. I always think that southern cities are somewhat of an oxymoron, which was made apparent as we waited f-o-r-e-v-e-r for pedestrians to cross the street. No one is in a hurry (unless they’re on a highway). Chip, a native of North Carolina who had been in California for a year, sighed and said, “I have missed the South so much.” Our last meal of the roadtrip was in IHOP (International House of Pancakes, which I always want to stylize as iHOP) where we were served over and over again with more coffee and more Dr Pepper. IHOP is one of those restaurants that is pleasantly unprofessional, with consistent food and harried-looking waiting staff. I still have ambitions to visit IHOP on Cox in North Carolina, where, I am told, they receive more prank phone calls than legitimate ones.

I was extremely anxious on the drive from Memphis to Oxford, feeling my stomach flip as we passed the Welcome to Mississippi sign. Now, I have passed that sign and done the 85-mile drive several times. I have many stories of my first year of Oxford, but for now, as pretentious as it is to quote myself, I will leave you with a Tweet from the first day that I arrived:

My hair is huge, my skin is bitten, my belly is full of fried catfish and hushpuppies. It feels so good to be back in the South. #olemiss

 

And this is a whole 'nother story.

23.

Cake for my last birthday. I got creative.

I won’t always love what I’ll never have, I won’t always live in my regrets…

Today I am 24. As far back as I can remember, my birthday has made me anxious. I’ve never liked to be center of attention. I dreaded opening gifts in front of a circle of people, desperately trying to compose my face into an expression of delight whilst fighting the urge to run out the door. As an adult, it’s about more than just shyness. I absolutely appreciate a thoughtful present, but I would genuinely rather someone makes time for me than they spend money on me. I’m sure other July babies can relate to the fact that there’s a lot going on with holidays, events, summer jobs – time is difficult to find.

Birthdays were really a cocktail of disaster for someone like me. I’m a deep thinker, a perfectionist, I like things to go to plan, and I always want to please others. But I am very stubborn. I never felt like I could live up to the expectations for a birthday and so some years I refused to celebrate it at all. If you think I sound selfish, I actually agree with you. I’m sure that I hurt family and friends by not being grateful that they wanted to do something for me.

You’ll sit alone forever, if you wait for the right time… What are you hoping for?

There is less pressure as I get older, especially with all my moving around, but I am still thinking about how to approach a day that makes me panicky. My solution, from now on, is to use the spotlight in a positive way. Firstly, I want to take this day to express how much I love and appreciate my friends and family, whether in England, Ireland or America. I have had a turbulent couple of years, and you have all shown me so much love and support. I could not have kept going without your company, your advice, your comedy and your kindness.

Secondly, I am giving everyone a present. Can you guess what it is? Yes, a real blog post! Okay, maybe not the BEST present but you’re here now so it’s something to read while you eat lunch or whatever. I am doing something a little artsy-fartsy and different by interspersing this post with lyrics, but it’s for good reason.

Amazing still it seems, I’ll be 23…

I was inspired to write this post a couple of days ago when I was listening to Pandora and Jimmy Eat World’s “23” came on. It is a very special song to me. I first heard it in 2005. Twenty-three felt a long way away to me then, and I could only imagine what my life might be like in 8 years. I distinctly remember playing the song on my iPod on Hallowe’en of 2007, as I sat on a plane headed to New York. I had the next five years mapped out: gap year, two years at UEA, a year in the states, final year of UEA. I would turn twenty-three around the time of graduation, and from there was a true unknown. Listening to the song, I vaguely wondered about location, career, and love. At that time, I had dreams to live in the US more permanently, I thought I would like to work in publishing, and I wasn’t sure that I knew what being in love felt like. Every time I heard “23”, as I came closer to reaching it myself, I would think about how my hopes and dreams were changing.

No one else will know these lonely dreams…

That moment was 5 years and 8.5 months ago. Naturally, my desires for location, career and relationships changed a lot during that time. I suffered through extreme homesickness during my year abroad and felt sure I would never leave England again; I became convinced that I wanted to be an academic; I swung from avoiding dating entirely to muddling through difficult relationships and finally figuring out what I wanted. But the funny thing is, most of what I initially wished for – what I thought about during that plane ride – came true during my 23^rd year. I moved back to the US; I pursued a Master’s and realized I want to work in publishing more than I want to get a PhD; I’m in a stable and happy relationship.

And I still listen to Jimmy Eat World. I have many memories of playing Futures with secondary school friends, which turned into a lot of Clarity and Chase This Light at UEA. It’s funny to me that thinking about them really irritated me when I was at Carolina; it is so fitting to how frustrated I was with life in general. They released Invented, which at first I did not like at all, and then went touring in Europe, stopping at none other than NORWICH, where all my friends went to see them without me. But, it got better. Their music still conjures good memories, and I have tickets to see them live in Charlotte this summer.

Now - with the help of Jimmy Eat World - I will tell you a few things I’m especially grateful for as I move on from 23…

I’m still driving away…  

I am finally driving! I’ve always boasted about my love of public transport, cycling and walking, and didn’t bother to get a license. But then I moved to the South. And mashed up my coccyx so I can no longer sit on a bike. I couldn’t buy groceries or really go anywhere in Mississippi without the aid of friends, so I finally got a permit and bought a car. Her name is Caddy (who gets it?). I’m planning on taking my test in a couple of months. And yes, British friends, you can make fun of me because I did NOT  a) learn to drive a manual or b) get TRULY tested by enduring the humiliation of the British driving test. But I will counter with the fact that my driving test fees cost $15 (around £10). So.

That once we said goodbye…  

Speaking of Britain, YES, I MISS YOU ALL. I miss narrow lanes and HobNobs and European fashion and Ribena and the BBC and Curlywurlies and people who know about Michael Palin and Stephen Fry and The Tea Junction. I’ll be back in December with my strange American-Southern/English-Southern accent. Bloody hell, y’all!

 

No one else will have me, only you…  

Public declarations of love are not really my thang, but I still want to say how much I love and appreciate my wonderful boyfriend. He makes me laugh, puts up with my hysteria and hypochondria, politely tries most of my experimental dinners, and truly believes in me. He’s my best friend, and I’m so happy that I will finally spend a birthday with him. Even if we will be having vegan cake.

Don’t give away the end, the one thing that stays mine…  

Writing is still my greatest passion. I’m very grateful that I have had so much encouragement to keep going, and ideas to keep me working. On a related note, I am spending my summer interning with the Hub City Writers Project, a literary nonprofit in Spartanburg, South Carolina that is both press and independent bookstore. I have been running their teen summer camps, which has led to new dreams about stories, teaching, nonprofit work and more. It’s been a real privilege. Also, their conference is this weekend, meaning I can spend my birthday hanging out with writers. Perfect!

I won’t always live, not stopping…  

It seems I like to keep lurching around and between two countries, despite how much I loathe packing and plane rides. Over the last 2 years, I have lived in Chapel Hill, North Carolina; Norwich, UK; (a total of 3 weeks in San Francisco, California); St. Albans, UK; Oxford, Mississippi; Spartanburg, South Carolina. I’m not sure where I’m headed after this year. I made a list of possible cities for fun and came up with a variety including Austin, Brighton, Buenos Aires, Berlin  and even “somewhere in Sweden”. Mostly I just want to be somewhere where someone will pay me.

And I’m sorry every day…  

I considered making my own sad face but ultimately decided I'm not as cool.

I ended up being WAY too busy in graduate school to ever update this blog. But I have been keeping notes, and I’m hoping to have a window of time before classes start again. I desperately want to tell you all about Oxford!

But that’s it from me for now. Happy birthday to me, but more importantly - I hope that YOU have a great day!

I was born, lucky me, in a land that I love

I've been looking over my first ever post, Where are you going, where have you been? and am struck by the fact that my feelings from then and now are so similar. (And that I didn't actually know what "liberal arts" means, but I pledged not to edit anything retrospectively.) You would think that with everything that's happened to me over the last two years, I would be a different person entirely. Or at the very least, that I would view my old words as naive - but I don't. Back in 2010, I was sad to say goodbye and worrying about how to handle depression abroad, but I was also very excited. It's pretty much how I feel now. The only big difference is that I have a greater understanding of my own weaknesses, and how these can be challenged in such a situation.

If ever I talk to people who haven't studied/lived abroad about the difficulties I experienced, a common reaction is that my expectations must have been too high, or that I made the wrong choices. By contrast, when I talk to those who have been abroad, even if their experience was 100x better than mine, they usually nod their heads and say, "That's how it goes sometimes." Don't get me wrong, there is a lot that I could have done better. This time around, I do want to be more assertive, more forgiving, more aware of how I'm feeling and what I can do about it. I understand my strengths a lot more now, too. But I also know that for any year in your life, regardless of setting, you can't be expected to control every single thing. Quite simply: shit happens. It might be that it takes me awhile to make friends, or to get into the swing of classes, or to adjust to the new climate. It might be that something goes horribly wrong. But no amount of preparation and/or panic is going to change that possibility, so I might as well focus on the excitement. My enthusiasm for my year abroad was certainly not what made it difficult; if anything, it was the reason I was able to keep going.

Obviously, the major difference between then and now is the fact that I'm leaving for two years, not one. It's also a more transient time than when I left before. The lives of my friends and family are going to change so much between now and May 2014. They'll be pursuing careers, moving houses, travelling the world, getting engaged. It would be an entirely different world for me to come back to. I've had to say a more permanent goodbye to the life that I knew, both in Norwich and St Albans. Strangely enough, that is easier. I don't have the burden of coming home and trying to fit back in again a year later, pushing aside these experiences that no one else witnessed. It's easier to believe I can make Oxford my new home in a way that I couldn't with Chapel Hill. I expect I will still feel lost at first. When you move elsewhere, sometimes you have to accept certain sacrifices. For me, it's some of my hobbies, such as fashion and cooking. In Mississippi, I can't live with one eye on the high street at all times, collecting limited edition clothing*, nor can I comfortably peruse Sainsbury's to make my usual dishes. I will have to adapt, and accept I can't always get hold of Quorn or creme fraiche. These are little things, but I'm sure they will sometimes make me sigh. I'm not sure it's possible to ever feel as comfortable in a foreign country as the place where you grew up.

*I'm a proud owner of a Queen's Guard crop top, a Jubilee-themed Topshop item. It's a real wonder that I actually resisted the Corgi-patterned bags.

When my visa-approved passport was returned to me last week, my nana was surprised to see that I don't have an Irish passport. It would never occur to me to get one, since I have never lived in Ireland and my dad's side is predominantly English. She asked, "But do you feel Irish?" I thought about this for a moment before replying, "I do on St. Patrick's Day." It does go a little deeper than that. I love visiting Ireland, and knowing that people I love grew up there, saw these places every day. I have a lot of childhood memories that tie me to the country, even little things like the food I begged for and the music I heard there. I wear a Claddagh ring, a gift from my nana. I thought seriously about applying to Trinity College. Yet to be honest, my relationship with Ireland is almost no different to my relationship with the South. I love Southern food, Southern literature, Southern music. I feel like I have an understanding of the culture without being truly part of it. It's somewhere I would be excited to live. There's no rhyme or reason to me attaching myself to it in such a way, it just happened.

What does it means to "come from" a country or town - is it your heritage, where you lived as a child, where you move to as an adult? I've been meditating on this a lot recently, perhaps due to the number of patriotic events this year. Some people are dismissive of the idea that one can be proud to be from somewhere, as it's really only an accident of birth. Other people hold tightly to their nationality, whether it's somewhere they can barely remember or where they grew up all along. The other day I met up with Tash, who was the first friend I made at UEA. Whilst I grew up only a short train ride from London, Tash grew up 5 hours away, in Devon. We walked along the Thames, thronged by Olympics tourists, and both felt that in some way, this capital was truly ours and something to be proud of. I'm not going all Colonialist on you - I offer no intelligent comments on Britain's history, and I don't view my birthplace as an achievement of some kind. But I am grateful for the way my country shaped me. As the Olympics opening ceremony demonstrated, Britain is a country that values art, humour and compassion. Who I am now, as a person and as a writer, is largely the result of that.

For instance, I would probably not have encountered the same television and writing. Many people know how much I admire Michael Palin. I'm a huge fan of Monty Python, and he was always my favourite. I used to rewind the Biggus Dickus scene of Life of Brian. I love his travel shows and his books. Now, everyone and their parrot just likes to discuss how Palin is so "nice", which is actually not why I am drawn to his work. Obviously, he is a talented writer and actor, and his journeys fuelled my own interest in travel. But mainly it is the fact that he appears to be someone who is comfortable with the fact that life does not have hard and fast answers. He doesn't aim to conclude, and he lives his life with empathy. (I shudder when I say "empathy" now, thanks to my dissertation!) When I read his work or his interviews, I feel a sense of peace, even if my life is currently all over the place. Last week, I read an interview with him in the Independent. He made a comment about John Cleese which resonated with me:

"I think he set himself a very high standard of achievement and possibly feels he never quite attained it. He's always moving: first to New York, then to California, now Monaco. Where next? I always wanted to say to him: 'John, you're so talented. You have a lovely wife and kids; just relax.' But there was always something more that he wanted, to a point that was almost destructive."

"Just relax" is my new mantra. I worry so much. Every day I wake up asking myself if I'm good enough, in my relationships and in my pursuits. If I may say so, I have inherited the British tradition of apologising for everything, which means it's hard to congratulate yourself. Being awarded a scholarship is one of the biggest things that's ever happened to me. You would think that I spent every day since January being overjoyed, proud of myself, successful. But I've been taught modesty all my life, and sometimes that drifts accidentally into self-consciousness. In some ways it's easier to process failure than it is to know what to do with success. I think it's how most people would feel, actually. My inclination to deconstruct and understand is in many ways a good quality, but sometimes it does need to be ignored and replaced swiftly with a "just relax."

I was caught on camera the other day as I was considering all of this. I have no idea what it was for, but I was amused that the footage, shot so randomly, would be rather poignant to me. I had taken the familiar train journey from St Albans to Kings Cross-St Pancras, and sat down outside the station. I was dressed in Topshop and Miss Selfridge, my iPod in and playing the Kinks. As I waited for Tash's train to arrive from Norwich, I continued reading Faulkner's The Wild Palms. At some point I paused, thinking about the upcoming move, my tendency to agonise, and how I should "just relax". I glanced up, squinting into the sunlight, and noticed the camera pointed right at me. The person holding it couldn't possibly have known, but what they recorded was a moment which connected me to all the places I've lived, the person I've been in all of them, and the place and person I'm now going towards.

I also like to express myself with cake.