The fire in the soul got me ready to fight, And I'm ready for war: Taking Graduate School by the Horns and Surviving NAWLINS

Take A Deep Breath, Freedom for a Hot Minute
    
Now that I'm officially done with my first set of graduate school midterms, I'm able to resume blogging. Slowly but surely, I'm getting more adjusted to my new habitat. After living in many different places and traveling to many regions of the world, I understand that there's no such thing as a perfect home. Even when it comes to domestic life, every family has its fair share of social challenges. New Orleans is a very unique place. Not a place that I can see myself living in post graduate school or raising a family, though definitely a place for the bucket list. If I had to be completely honest, New Orleans is one of the dirtiest places I've been to in the world. Maybe not quite as bad as the smog-infested cities in China, though it's definitely high up there on my list. Sometimes when walking in the French Quarter or driving down the checker board streets, I forget that I'm in the states. There's plenty of room for improvement as far as New Orleans' infrastructure goes, especially the damaged streets that are going to cause my car to have mechanical issues in due time. The quality of the roads and highways are piss poor to say the least. Moving outside of my car and on to the streets, it's a war zone! Even when walking down Saint Charles Avenue and Magazine Street, two of the more affluent areas in New Orleans, I never fail to be approached by a homeless person. These homeless people are not like the ones in Washington, DC or Boston, they'll give you lip if you unintentionally break their dreams. There's a reason that I do not carry bills in my wallet, so don't project your frustrations on to me when I am not able to magically produce dollars. In addition, I'm not going to contribute to your alcohol or drug fund. No joke, when walking down Decatur Street in the French Quarter, I saw signs and was approached by a few homeless individuals who explicitly asked me to contribute to their "Get Me Drunk Fund". If I'm going to share any of my hard earned money with you, it sure as hell will not be going to your "Get Me Drunk Fund". That's that for my rant on the motives of select homeless people here.

Celebrating 26 in New Orleans

Since my last entry, I had a birthday. Shockingly, I still feel and look the same (sarcasm for those slow at catching my humor). In order to welcome in the new age, my parents came to celebrate with me. My mother's first and last time visiting New Orleans. Looks like I won't be walking down the aisle of the Superdome, or at least I won't have my family in the crowds cheering me on. For those of you who do not live here, you should know that as locals we avoid Bourbon Street like the black plague. Every time a family member or friend visits, I must play tourist, put on my mask and walk down the vile streets of Bourbon. 

Having traveled to Las Vegas, spending time in the "Red-Light District" (Pat Pong) in Bangkok, and being exposed to other profane and provocative environments, I can confidently say that nothing quite compares to Bourbon Street. I'm not sure that I agree with some of the parenting that takes place on Bourbon Street, I for sure as hell know that I would not want to expose my newborn or young child to the derelicts of society. From the half exposed female adult entertainers to the drunk tourists (of all ages), it is not a place for children. Please reconsider your life decisions next time you decide to strap little Michelle to your chest or push newborn Nicholas down the trash-infested corridors. Though, I must admit that it was fun watching my mother strike a pose with the street artist. To contribute to the "tourist for a weekend" itinerary,  we decided to take a steamboat down the Mississippi. Unfortunately we didn't know that we'd be navigating rough seas in a re-enactment of "Cast Away". Ready for a change in scenery, my parents and I decided to see how the other half of Louisiana lives, and took a road trip to Tiger Country. I must admit that Baton Rouge, or at least where LSU is located, is a very quaint and clean area. I mean I won't be sending my children to LSU anytime soon nor do I feel upset that I did not apply or attend it for my undergrad, though it seems like it would be a great experience, especially for in-state residents.
   

        The real topping on the cake,  no pun intended, was learning that the one and only Sir Paul McCartney was performing at the Smoothie King Center (local concert venue in New Orleans) on October 11th, my birthday. Having grown up on the classics like The Beatles, Bob Dylan, Simon and Garfunkel, and Elton John, I was so pumped that my parents wanted to surprise me and take me to the concert. Even though I wasn't alive to see all of the originals perform, I must say that I feel extra lucky to have seen Paul McCartney. The man has still got it; from his amazing vocals to his "studly" looks and captivating stage presence.

A Tar Heel Born, A Tar Heel Bred, And When I Die I'll Be Tar Heel Dead!
      

       I knew that nothing could live up to my undergrad experience at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Still, I'm trying... and struggling to get sucked up into the green waves of Tulane. Students here are not fond of school-spirit. Even though Carolina blue has always been my favorite color, I've been trying very hard to incorporate Tulane's school colors into my daily attire. I'm a sucker for Sperry Top Siders boat shoes, having had a pair in Carolina Blue, I made it a priority to buy a pair in Tulane Green before moving to New Orleans. Now this shouldn't come as any surprise to anyone, though graduate school is on a different level than undergrad. I'm talking a night and day difference. Even though I try to be involved as much as I can, the options are not as plentiful, nor do I have the time to dedicate to extracurricular activities. My liver has obtained enough damage from my undergrad days and nights of debauchery in DC, so I'm not one who needs to go out every weekend night. I'm at the age where I'm ready to settle down when and if I find the right girl; someone to put me in my place, LOL. Moving away from social surroundings, academics at Tulane have exceeded my expectations. Aside from some of the simpler forms of "testing our knowledge", the course work has all been very engaging, and has been keeping me plenty busy. I know my blogs are redundant, though I must make mention that I came to graduate school with a different attitude and perspective than the one I brought with me to undergrad. Professors are very fair here so my grades are pretty solid, however I'm not focusing my time and energy on obtaining all A's. Graduate school, the struggle continues, that's life! Stay tuned!
 

"Even if things get heavy, We'll All Float On"...Almost 26 and Figuring Out the Game All Over Again

Foreword 
        So between a heavy 14-credit course load, 10-15 hour/week time commitment to my internship, entertaining out of state visitors, and diving into my new leadership responsibilities at the Tulane School of Public Health and Tropical Medicine, I have not had much time to breathe and write a meaningful blog entry until now. As you can probably tell from the title of this blog post, my relationship with graduate school could best be described as a love-hate one at this point in time. Transferring from school to school in my undergrad and moving to Washington DC without any support network, I'm not one who's foreign to the idea of "starting over". In fact, I view the task as a challenge, and always in time I fully adapt to my new surroundings, and conquer the experience in all forms.

A New Experience, A New Perspective

       As I pinpointed in an earlier blog post, the way that I view education is a night and day difference from how I did so during my undergrad at the University of Miami and UNC-Chapel Hill. Naively, I was so focused on my grades and overall GPA during my undergrad, while not really concerned with mastering the course material. In no way does this imply that I put in the least amount of work in order to get the grades I wanted, because many sleepless nights occurred in the UNC Undergraduate Library (UG) and Davis Library, and many hours were fully devoted to academics. When you enter the real world and begin your hunt for a 9-5 job, you quickly learn that people do not view you in terms of your numbers. Unless you're looking to be a robot and get recruited by highly selective technology companies, financial powerhouse and management consulting firms, no one cares where your degree came from, and if you graduated Summa Cum Laude or were inducted into the Phi Beta Kappa Honors Society. Those place markers add value, though not as much as the actual experience that you've acquired in internships, volunteer opportunities, and leadership roles you may have served in for student organizations.
   
         Cracking that academic nut is taking longer than I anticipated for me. In high school and during my undergrad, I was able to train myself to spend multiple hours at a time in the library and stay as focused as a prepubescent boy who is realizing the beauty of females for the first time, without any additives such as Ritalin and caffeine pills. For the most part all of the material is extremely interesting and appealing. I mean don't get me wrong, there are those introductory core-level courses like Biostatistics and Epidemiology that are not especially of interest to me. Though we must do what it is required of us, play the game, and learn the so-called skills that we will use later in our careers. Right now, I roll my eyes, though hopefully I will put this knowledge to use in my future.

          Before committing to New Orleans, I knew that with any decision that there would be opportunity costs. As it has been presented in the media and basic common knowledge, New Orleans is not the safest place in the world. Being one of the more economically-challenged metropolitan areas in the South, it is home to a high crime rate. I'm not going to sugarcoat it, this factor definitely places limitation on my activities, including my study habits. At Miami and UNC-Chapel Hill, I felt entirely safe walking around campus all hours of the night. I cannot say the same about Tulane. The School of Public Health and Tropical Medicine "campus" is not located in the same vicinity as the undergraduate school, which arguably is located in a better area than the SPHTM. With that said, I'm still not sure I would feel safe walking to my car after a certain hour, which in turn affects my study habits. In addition, the libraries at Tulane are not very aesthetically pleasing. I've had conversations with other students who've expressed the same concerns to me. "It feels like a prison," as many have put it. There are no windows, there's a lot of construction taking place which makes it hard to access the facilities, and so on and so forth. All in all, the conditions and resources available to me to aid my ability to study safely and peacefully are not up to par, which is fine. Now that I know this, I'll just have to use my creativity to devise a new plan of action for study environments.

A Small Fish in A Big Pond

     Now I know we've only been here a little over a month, and while one might say that I do have a lot of friends, I'm still not at a place where I would feel comfortable for the next year and change. Do I have a lot of friends? Sure. Since I do not typically place labels to define my friendships, i.e. I do not have anyone that I'll ever address as a best friend, I take the term friend very seriously. I do not mean to offend any of my friends here in New Orleans, though I do not feel that I have really met people who I could confide in, and trust to be there to support me and rely on when I'm in need, and vice versa. I've taken a lot of blows to the face, as have others, and learned the hard way who my real friends are. I do not expect to leave graduate school with a posse of true friends. I've collected a couple of friends at each stage in my life, and have built a nice support network, and I would of course love to meet one or two people, who I can call groomsmen on my wedding day and so on, though it is not the sole reason or a motive of mine in graduate school.
     
     The nature of the beast is that I'm in a program that is dominated by females, similar to the conflict that I faced as a minority in the nonprofit development and event planning world. I have no problem with working with women and believe in equal rights for men, women, and those who identify as transgender and other gender classifications. Though, I would like to have some male camaraderie; a few brothers to share a beer with and watch some sports. I know, I know. I'm being very stereotypical and sexist right now, but just go with it and don't question me, :). Piled that on to the fact that graduate programs are much smaller than undergraduate, which makes it that much harder to find your niche in a small student body, especially one that has a small margin of males.

        I'm incredibly grateful to have the moral support of so many people who trust in my ability to create a memorable and meaningful experience for them, and look forward to doing my best in exceeding everyone's expectations with the collaboration of my co-chair.

Keep Paddling On

     It might seem that I've reached a point between a rock and a hard place. As should be expected in every experience and new adventure, there are going to be obstacles that you must not let slow you down and affect your optimistic outlook. Even if you fall in the river, you must use your strength to pull yourself up, get back into the boat, and continue paddling. That is just what I'm going to do. Nearly 26, and I'm still in my floaties.