Masters

Long days of fluorescent lighting and temperature-controlled buildings and an overload of information. I step out of that context, that box that becomes my home for eight hours, onto my bicycle.  Frigid air returns, freedom abounds, and I’m off to explore more deeply this dissertation of life’s complexities and beauties outside the air-conditioned box. Sometimes I wonder about the separation, segregation that may inevitably ensue upon acceptance to graduate school.  An elite group of individuals that numbers less than 2% of the world population call themselves Master’s of (you fill in the blank).  And I am one of them  – or, approved loans and crossed fingers aside, I will be one of them someday.  How far removed am I from this civil society that I aim to so positively affect?

My roommate works in a tattoo shop with bearded, pierced, artfully-articulated Master’s of body art.  The  man across the hall from me comes home with dirt in his fingernials, eking out a living as a Master Landscaper -an art all too quickly diminishing from a suffering economy.  There is a bicycle cooperative on the poor side of town, in that alley those men told me not to walk through alone in the dark, where Master mechanics build bikes for free  for the homeless, the poor and the car-less.  There are two boys standing on the corner outside my apartment, next to the coffee shop, fervently offering a partnership in Environmental stewardship with passersby, Mastering the art of concern and care for the beautiful Colorado river we all want to raft down next summer.  There are so many Masters eveywhere.  There are  ideas and innovations and creations and creatures moving and shaking all around me.    There are also broken hearts, broken hands, broken-ness.  Missed opportunities, waiting opportunities, extenuating circumstances and exhilerating heartbeats all around me.  People are mastering things all over the world. From the manicured sidewalks of Denver University to the cracked pavements we ride along on my side of town, to the absent pathways in the Hispanic neighborhoods of this city…. to the polished mud floors of Bangladesh.

I don’t ever want to find myself so affluent, erudite, so comfortable in my elite cohort of Masters representing less than 2% of global population that I become exceptional  to my own society.  I don’t want to be blind to my world of International Sustainable Development that is happening at the cafe three blocks from my classroom building, where an aged, retired writer named Ric waits to tell his stories to anyone who will listen.  I am humbly aiming for my Master’s of Development Practice at one of the best schools in the nation, where learned practitioners and rigorous academics are offering me the opportunity to learn so many new things everyday, and apply them to the world around me to make life just a little easier for my fellow human.  I don’t want the world around me to become transparent, disappearing the fellow human all around me.  I want to absorb all this air-conditioned box at Denver University has to offer and use it to the best of my ability, anywhere.

Consequence of Curiosity

In those precious, valued moments of freedom I rarely experience as a graduate student, I tend to indulge myself in the rants and raves of mind-numbing existential thought – a favorite being the works of Bertrand Russell who said the world needs more of kindness, courage and curiosity.  In lieu of a humble lack of clarity in the first two ideas, I attempt to explain the consequences (and beauties) of a curious mind.

I’ve noticed that graduate school, and particularly a degree of International Sustainable Development, tends to attract humans with an insatiable thirst for knowledge.  This curiosity is awakened with inquiries into international trade policies, power relations and inequalities, unacceptable disparities in health care and, of course, attempted solutions to all the worlds problems.

Yet, most of these curious minds are not satisfied with these questions alone.  No, these minds want to know about the psychological underpinnings of a society that encompasses individuals who kill their congresswomen and fellow neighbors; we want to know about the fledgling musical revolution led by Radiohead now flourishing into an unprecedented Indie Rock scene in Denver; we wan to know about the Colorado River’s increasing incapacity to sustain its 9-State clientele; we want to know about Edward Munchs’ provocative art of the late 19th century.  Ok, maybe that’s just me.

I find life so terribly short.  So little time, so much to do, so much to learn.  Thus, an incessant appreciation for the MDP program in its inter-disciplinary approach.  I’m currently in a two-week long Global Health course, after which we dive into Economics and Project Management Analysis.  Additionally this quarter, we’ll be visiting Washington D.C. to explore Domestic Environmental Policy.  Not to mention, I took advantage of the freedom to choose an extra elective.  Population, Environment and Development in Latin America stirs my mind with the sexy subject matter of Integrated Pest Management, soil erosion, and combating the evil-doings of those pesky multi-national corporations depleting the planet’s natural resources.

I rue the opportunities I have to say no to.  However, I find my life healthily balanced with local concerts at the High-Dive on Broadway, chilly afternoon runs around Washington Park, tasty concoctions of Thai food prepared in the comfort of my apartment… oh yes, and of course endless readings on international relations, health, agriculture, development…. yes yes yes.

I get stressed at times, I admit it.  Being a curious mind necessitates coffee and I sense I’ve imbibed in more than my fair share.  Alas, the challenging chase for knowledge and growth is worth it.

An array of oranges and reds drapes itself over snow-peaked mountains outside my second floor apartment.  Icy streets, single-digit temperatures and a stillness that only presents itself in the simplicity of frigid nights is much appreciated.  I find solace in the ferocity of Mother Nature proving her authority over this giant ecological system.  I forge on… to Global Health Class.

Back in the Game

Day 1 of Spring Quarter:

My “break” was a whirlwind two-week tour.  36 hours in transit from Dhaka, Bangladesh to Denver, Colorado left me more jet-lagged than the trip over, and plopped me smack dab in the middle of colder weather, higher altitudes and the most blown-out, hyper-commercialized, uber-Americana week of the year.  Jingle bells, Christmas trees and new techy ads flooded my senses, and providing a rather confused mind as I tried to reflect on all that I had just seen in the last month in Bangladesh.

Christmas with family and New Year’s with friends, and many mornings sleeping in while snow fell outside has left me feeling … only a bit refreshed.  Somehow January 3rd arrived quickly and I find myself back in the Korbel Cyber cafe reading syllabi and ordering textbooks.  The procrastination already feels heavy on my shoulders and lists are beginning to pile up in my planner.

For the first two weeks, the cohort is taking a Global Health course to culminate the Health conference we attended last fall and health projects we visited in Bangladesh.  After that, we’ll be taking Development Project Analysis and Statistics… oh la la.  I’ve also opted to overwhelm myself with an extra course (mostly because its free), in Population, Environment and Development in Latin America.  As my keen interest in Environment and Agriculture makes itself more prevalent day to day, I am quite eager to begin this course.

Until soon…