It was my first quarter at the University of Cincinnati in their History MA program. I had never lived alone in a city before. I didn’t know anyone. I was a TA, got hired to do admin work in the office, and had a full load of classes. Overwhelmed barely describes it. I was also exhausted. Scared. Anxious. And incredibly lonely. My big sister often got the brunt of my lamentations so she did what any good sister would do. She gave me a verbal kick in the pants. “You think you’re the only one in that program lonely? You don’t think every other person is anxious and scared? Maybe consider that others feel like you do and do something about it.” You know when advice is so good it pierces through the fog, the bullshit, and everything else to strike right at the core? This was that kind of advice. Consequently, I invited my cohort over for a potluck dinner and it was such a hit, I did it every quarter thereafter. Always themed. Always well-attended. For many, one of the highlights of our graduate experience.
That “pep” talk and the follow-through have provided such a core memory that I’ve applied it repeatedly throughout my life. I find myself here again–anxious, scared, exhausted, longing for comfort and connection. I’ve said it enough that it’s almost goofy–I want someone to make me a grilled cheese and tomato soup and give me a hug. “So what are you going to do about it?” Here’s what I intend:
On Sunday, February 15th, from 1-4pm, I will have an open house, serving grilled cheese (on homemade sourdough, obvs), and tomato soup. And I’ll be doling out the hugs to whomever needs or wants one. It’s no accident the timing of this, either. If you are in Walla Walla, please message me to RSVP so I can make sure to have enough supplies on hand and give you directions. If you’re not in Walla Walla, please consider gathering with people where you’re at. Connect. Let these connections rest on joy as much as on our shared struggles and woes.
Feryl Files 