Coming full circle

(This post goes in conjunction with the one previous.)

So Mr. Miner and his group came on Wednesday. After months of waiting for this day it finally came and went and was something to be remembered.

We met up at the American History Museum. I heard him coming before I ever saw him. Mr. Miner's voice is distinctive and not something you argue against. He gave me a hug which made some of his students standing near us do a double-take. Then he introduced me as one of his former students. "Wait, you live here now?" was someone's reply. "Why yes, yes I actually do."

We walked around and I met some of his students. Nice kids. Good kids. Kids that didn't look all that younger than me. They would ask history questions and Mr. Miner would take a few minutes and answer all of them, he would continue to teach them, and they would listen. Just like it used to be with me.

He hasn't changed at all.

A student came up and asked if she could leave the building and walk to the Lincoln since she was leaving a day early and would miss seeing all the monuments. Mr. Miner and I decided to take a cab with her the short distance and show her the Lincoln, the Vietnam, and the Korean memorials. The day was overcast and misty. It was also a Wednesday and in the middle of the afternoon. I have never been to those memorials with so few people it was amazing. There were only a small handful walking around. They were almost empty.

We got to talk a little more, about my job and his, and our families. Even after all the hundreds of students he's had he remembered details about my life that I appreciated.

After re-joining the group we headed to the National Portrait Gallery. I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it. I walked the long halls with Mr. Miner and we chatted some more. I told him what ultimately drove me to moving to DC, how I needed to get away from memories in Utah and Idaho and start a new life after a hard breakup, and how the thought I'd had six years previous had stuck with me, the thought that it'd be cool to move to DC one day. It was then that it hit me, I'd come full circle.

After an awesome Chinese dinner at Tony Cheng's in Chinatown I walked with the 40-student group back to their hotel in Rosslyn and got to talk to the students for a couple minutes. I told them my story, my ambitions, the reasons I'm here, how I got here, and how much I love it. I gave them pieces of advice that I wish I'd understood better at their age. I told them to work hard and be a leader. I told them to do everything in their power to live abroad and see different cultures and peoples. I don't them to set their sights high and never think they can't make it.

I hope I was a role model.

The night was over. I said goodbye to Mr. Miner again, shook his hand, told him that if I'm around next year I want to meet with his group again, told him I'd stay in touch, and then headed back to the metro and ultimately to my apartment. I'm grateful for days like this. Days when I can see my past and where I came from. Mr. Miner is someone that I will always respect and admire. I hope I can reach the potential he's always seen in me.

Why yes, yes I actually live here....and I love it.

Mr. Miner and I on the day of my high school graduation

Reunited after six years 

Just one of those teachers

There are some people in life that have influenced me more then they probably know or understand. These people are the ones I look up to, respect, admire, want to emulate, and want to make proud.

Friends, of course, fit in to this category. Certain people I met in my mission like Bro. Bassie or Alma Gamboa. There have been several teachers throughout the years that have had a lasting impact on my life and have shaped much of who I am today. 

Mr. Miner is one of those teachers. 

I walked in to his classroom my first day of high school. He didn't smile a whole ton but I didn't think he was mean. He had this sort of presence, the kind of presence that commands respect and doesn't take crap. 

I knew I was going to like him because those are the kind of teachers I've always responded to, the ones who have this air of obedience to them, the ones who expect a lot out of you but give you respect in return, the ones who make you work hard but let you see how working hard brings immense success and satisfaction, the ones who ultimately love you as a person and see your potential even before you do. 

Mr. Miner is one of those teachers. 

I took every one of the classes he offered during my three years in high school. I loved his AP US history class my junior year. I studied so hard for that AP exam and I was confident I was going to get a good grade. The week of the test I got really sick with Crohn's and was in the hospital the day of the exam. Mr. Miner personally called the hospital to reassure me it was all right. He arranged for me to take the make-up exam. I passed with flying colors thanks to him. 

My senior year he asked me to be his TA during his free period. When I was supposed to be grading papers, instead I would sit in a chair across from his desk and he's continue to teach me. We talked about wars and about government. He taught me things we didn't have time for in class. That's when my love for all things history and government started to bud.

Mr. Miner is one of those teachers. 

That year is when I came to DC for the first time with a group of students and Mr. Miner as our guide. In five days we jam packed everything we could possible do and see in DC. I was enchanted by the city and everything it had to offer. During that trip we met up with one of his former students, a cute girl then studying at George Washington. I thought it was so cool talking to her and hearing her road from Utah Valley to DC. It was then that the idea that I wanted to do the same got into my head and never really left. 

See me with the white hat on?

Purple coat right in the middle and my dad just behind me in the green

There I am with the purple coat on again and the nice shades. 

When I made the decision to go to BYU-I, I got the class catalog in the mail and as I was browsing through it I found the Political Science courses. They sounded really similar to what Mr. Miner had been teaching me for three years. These courses caught my interest when nothing else in the entire catalog did. I made the decision to study Political Science that very day, before I had ever stepped on the university's campus. I never looked back. Never once did I question if I should study something else. There was nothing else that even held a flame to what I loved learning in my PoliSci classes. 

Two years after high school I was preparing to go on my mission. I hadn't talked to Mr. Miner since then. One day I was in the Provo temple waiting for the session to begin when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked back to see Mr. Miner, dressed in white like me. We exchanged a quiet hello and he asked me where I was going and offered a congratulations and good luck. He still didn't know the impact he was still having on my life. 

Then last April, as I sat in the library one day thinking of all that I'd been through and what I'd accomplished in college, I thought about Mr. Miner once again. I knew I needed to tell him how much I appreciated what he'd done for me in high school. I knew I needed to tell him how his teaching had put me on the course I'm on today. So my mom found his number in the phonebook and I called him up. My heart was racing a little bit. "What am I doing? I haven't talked to this man in six years."

He sounded the same and we chatted for a few minutes. I explained how grateful I was for his early direction and for the person he's made me to be. I explained that I was moving to DC in a few weeks. I was surprised to hear that he was still making his trips to DC with students every year. Then he said, "You know, Hannah, now you can be the person we meet up with when we're there. You can be the role model for the students who don't think it's possible to ever move to a place like DC." 

Shivers went through my body. I thought of the girl I'd met on my inaugural trip to DC six years previous. Now I was going to be that girl. 

Mr. Miner is just one of those teachers. 

Metal mouth and platform flip-flops

I was fortunate to never really experience bullying when I was in middle school. Yes there was immense pressure to be “popular” and have new clothes and wear make-up and platform flip-flops but I don’t remember ever really caring about that kind of stuff too early. I guess I was a late bloomer in some senses and I’m really grateful for that. However, that doesn’t mean I enjoyed it when Bradley Greenwell called me four-eyes one day when I wore my glasses or that I didn’t feel self-conscious when my mom wouldn’t let me wear eye shadow or much mascara.

Overall though I had a pretty normal middle school experience. I experienced it, got through it, and moved on. I remember vaguely starting to have serious crushes on boys, of starting to round brush my hair more often, and being more aware of people’s feelings and circumstances.

Of course there was a lot of awkwardness that accompanied my three years at Lakeridge Junior High. I was slightly embarrassed that I had to get special permission from my geometry teacher to use the hall pass every day to go to the bathroom since my problems with Crohn’s were still being worked out. I remember arguing with my mom over the length of my shorts and the sleeves on my shirts. I also clearly remember all the school dances with the slightly dark gym floor, the 7^th graders playing tag, and the 9^th graders pretending to be cool and dance in the middle.

School dances in middle school and the word anxiety are synonymous.

I would get ready for every dance in the hope that sometime before nine when the dance ended I would hear the music of Enrique Iglesias’s “Hero” and Josh Bishop would stroll over to me, tap me on the shoulder, and ask me to slow dance with him.

(BTW, he always did and I thought I was on cloud 9)

But now those three years are very much a blur. It’s been almost ten years since I conquered junior high and boy, I’m glad to be done with those years. They were years of inner turmoil, years of figuring out the beginnings of adulthood, years of realizing who I was becoming and who I wanted to become, years of stylish ignorance and exploration, and years of come-and-go crushes and heartbreaks.

But I wouldn’t take back those years for anything. They were priceless years of learning and growth and although they were hard and difficult, they were character building.

So listen to this podcast from the NPR program This American Life. Listen and reminisce about your years in middle school and the awkwardness that it was. I couldn’t stop laughing as I listened to the stories of current middle-schoolers and their woes and travails. I promise that the hour you listen will not disappoint. 

A little Adele

Katie Younger and I share a passion for Adele.

We can't get enough of this song lately.

So here's to any of you who have loved...

...and then had to let go. 

I think I'll go to Boston

Growing up in Orem, UT, meant that I attended an almost all-white high school where the overwhelming majority of students were LDS and came from middle-income families. I liked it that way. At least in the area where I lived there wasn’t a lot of competition or pressure to become a millionaire or CEO of a Fortune 500. Don’t get me wrong, my parents expected the best out of me and I always knew they would push me to get the best grades possible, but the idea of every applying, let alone attending an ivy league university never even crossed my mind. I was content attending a smaller, less prestigious university where I could go about my business getting a good education without spending hundreds of thousands of dollars to get it.

I guess you could say that Harvard and MIT and Columbia and all those places really felt unattainable to me, untouchable in a sort of way. What I knew of those universities was all from the movies.

It wasn’t until I went to Ohio a couple months ago with a group of friends, one of which happened to attend Harvard Law School, that I got my first glimpse of what attending Harvard was like. The whole weekend I couldn’t resist asking Chris B. question after question of what his experience was like there. Luckily for me he wasn’t the type to put his nose in the air and snoot at all of us who didn’t go to a school like that. Instead he answered my questions and was really nice about all my inquiring. I found it fascinating to hear his stories and experiences, and even more found a new friend who I loved talking to.

My brother Spence also helped me understand what the culture of Boston is like since he served his mission there. His stories of the people, the general feeling toward organized religion, and the kind of life Bostonians live was so different than my stories and experience in the middle of Texas where I served and worked in the ghetto.

Finally, after years of being fascinated with these schools and the idea of going to Boston myself one day I got to go last weekend and made the 10 hours trek up to New England.

Almost immediately I was impressed with the scenery and skyline in general. The beautiful Charles River that runs through the middle of the city, almost constantly dotted with crew boats. What’s more, my roommates and I splurged and got a four-star hotel suite that had amazing beds and lots of space and mirrors (clearly exactly what three girls need for a weekend in Boston when we want to look cute the entire time).

The purpose of our trip was to attend the famous Boston Education Conference for YSA’s on the East Coast which, although we skipped out on some of the activities so we could explore Boston, was awesome and very well put together. I was extremely touched by the things the speakers shared and overwhelmed with the feeling that I need to sacrifice more for my Savior and tie up some of the loose ends in my spiritual life. Once again I was extremely grateful for opportunities such as these where the church uses its resources to get such amazing speakers for us like Clayton Christensen, Kristen Oaks, and Matt Holland.

Clayton Christensen- If you don't know who this guy is and what he's done not only for the church but in his profession you need to look him up. He's an incredible person!

Some of the highlights of the weekend were these:

1) The FOOD- either we lucked out on finding all the best restaurants in Boston or Boston just has the best food in the country. We ate incredible pizza topped with roasted potatoes, cranberries, and spinach. Café Luna treated us right for brunch on Saturday where we ate pumpkin pie stuffed french toast, homemade mint hot chocolate, and Belgian waffles topped with blackberries the size of quarters, and later we had authentic French cuisine where I ate a croissant made with so much butter it just fell apart in my mouth. Can I say delish???

2) Walking around MIT and Harvard campuses. Finally I found myself walking the streets of the universities I once thought were untouchable. MIT was surprisingly quiet and we enjoyed some of the incredible Danish architecture and marveled at the science buildings where cures for cancer are being found. Harvard was bustling with people, students, and tourists. Walking through the gates onto the quads with the gorgeous Harvard school building surrounding me was breathtaking. There I was, standing in front of the Harvard library, I couldn’t believe I was there. I imagined what it would have been like to walk the halls of that great campus an attend classes with world-renowned professors.

MIT

Amazing architecture

Rubbing the foot of John Harvard for good luck, a Harvard tradtion

The Harvard library

3) Walking along the Charles River and watching the Crew teams. We were also lucky because there was a huge crew competition the weekend we were there. I decided that if I had grown up on the East Coast Crew would have definitely been my thing. Everything about it was entrancing to me and I wish I could turn back time and sign up. Who knows, I’m not too old, maybe the next time you hear from me I will have joined a team!

4) Our Boston Harbor Cruise on Saturday night. I mean, who doesn’t love dressing up all formal, getting on a nice yacht with 300 other single Mormons, and dancing and eating the night away? Although the air was chilly I absolutely loved going to the top deck and watching Boston at night. We danced, we sang, we laughed, we ate, we danced some more, and a cute guy got my number (and although he lives in Delaware he’s coming down next weekend so we can go out). And finally, way too late we finally made it back to out hotel and almost died from exhaustion.

The only disappointment of the weekend was having to leave. It was way too short of a trip and I’m desperate to go back as soon as I can. I fell in love with this city.

I think I’ll go to Boston………again!

FDR Memorial

Adventure: FDR Memorial

Back in high school going to the FDR memorial was one of the most impressive sights we saw. We went after dark and I remember the backlit waterfalls and great stonewalls inscribed with the words of Franklin Delano Roosevelt.

On a perfect summer day a couple weeks ago I decided to venture once more so I could refresh my memory and enjoy the FDR memorial one more time.

It did not disappoint.

This time the sun was on its way to setting. I had taken the day to walk around the tidal basin, thinking, pondering, and just loving life.

As I walked through the stonewalls and admired the waterfalls I enjoyed thinking about life during FDR’s administration. Those were hard times, time beset by poverty and unemployment where people struggled just to survive. The great American spirit barely endured in the hearts of the people.

But it did endure.

As a people we’ve been able to pick up over and over again. Wars have taken loved ones, poverty has plagued our people, terrorism has beset us, but we’ve been able to find the hope and faith inside us….and move on.

Over the years we’ve become the most powerful nation on earth. We enjoy civil liberties and freedoms many countries don’t have. I live a luxurious life full of comforts and extras.

Strolling through these monuments makes me realize how blessed I really am. Thank you FDR for helping the American people through a hard time and believing that we could come out on top.

Forever Proud

This article was published yesterday in the Deseret News and spoke deeply to my heart. As you all know, I had planned on going to BYU for almost my entire adolescence but when the time came the Spirit told me that BYU was not the right university for me. Never in my life have I been more grateful for the decision I made, the leap of faith I took, to move away, face my fears, and attend BYU-Idaho.

BYU will always hold prestige but eventually, someday, BYU-Idaho will be known around the world as well. It is already becoming that way. Folded quietly in the middle of Eastern Idaho with the foreboding winters and bone-chilling winds. Amidst all that there is a power and a spirit, a humility and a strength, that I will never forget. It is the Spirit of Ricks.

I'm proud to say that I'm a BYU-Idaho Alumni and attended under the direction of President Kim B. Clark.

BYU-Idaho is my school. It will always be my school. It will always be in my heart.

http://www.deseretnews.com/article/700188498/On-the-frontier-How-BYU-Idaho-is-pushing-the-boundaries-of-higher-education.html