This week, I had an occasion to eat in Haverford’s dining hall. Plenty of Mawrters do that; our swipe cards work at both places, and it comes in handy when you have a class or friends over there. This was no social outing, however. I attended a job talk for an actual position at an actual company that I might take after graduation. To say the least, as a sophomore who declared her major 4 short months ago, this was a daunting meeting. Especially since only 3 people showed up and the recruiter actually wanted us to interact with her. Luckily, she was very nice, a common characteristic of those who work in the field that I want to go in. After graduation, I want to work with children with special needs and help them to live the most full and independent lives possible. There are more ways to do this than I ever imagined, and when I first started looking into the field, I was overwhelmed by the sheer number of possibilities of things that I could be when I grew up. Every one of those job titles: special education teacher, clinical psychologist, ABA specialist, speech-language pathologist, to name a few; would fulfill my dream. I have by no means decided which path I am going to take, but I am getting a better picture of what each path looks like through things like this job talk. This particular company could provide a wide variety of wonderful opportunities for me, including training in one of the leading autism interventions, financial help pursuing a master’s degree, and, perhaps the most intriguing of all, a stint working in their office in Abu Dhabi.
Even though it was scary to be thinking about my future in such concrete terms, it was that little detail that made the whole thing less daunting. Imagining myself working with autistic kids in Abu Dhabi, exploring and enjoying a new part of the world, was as wonderful and exciting as imagining my future had been when I was a kid and I wanted to be a circus performer. I may never work for that company, but I will probably work for like that. The idea of working in such an exotic place reminded me of how I should feel when contemplating any new career, even in the States. I should be excited. It should feel like an adventure, something that I just can’t wait to do.

The D3 indoor track national championships meet was this weekend. I knew a few people participating, such as my teammate Claudia and my sister. As it is my sister’s senior year, my parents want to attend every one of her “lasts”, so they bought plane tickets to Nebraska and offered me the opportunity to go as well. I love my sister, and being almost 300 miles from her means that I don’t get to be there for many of her lasts, so I jumped on this opportunity. Also, I’m a bit of a track nerd, so it was exciting to be able to watch all of the people I’d been following on TFRRS run at such a high-caliber meet. The trip started, as most of my adventures this semester seem to begin, with snow. The morning of our flight to Nebraska was pretty wintry: it was about 28 degrees and flurrying in Hartford when I left. When I arrived in Nebraska, however, I discovered the spring was just a time zone away.

I was told that this is not typical of Nebraska at this time, but it was 67 degrees for the whole weekend. Chances are, I will never return to Nebraska to refute this impression, so I will always imagine short-sleeved runs, balmy evening strolls, and warm breezes when I think of Nebraska. It was outdoor track weather.

Speaking of track, the meet itself was even more extraordinary than the weather. When I returned to campus, I entertained my friends by giving them a blow-by-blow of my favorite races. The first involved a runner who got a 50 meter lead in the first few laps and never lost it, winning by almost 4 seconds; another involved a runner who got a 50 meter lead and kept it until the final few laps before losing it to an astonishingly super-human kick by a runner who had been in 4^th.

Both Claudia and my sister also ran well, with Claudia setting a new school record in the 5k with a 10^th place finish and my sister taking 5^th in the mile.

Claudia and coach after her race. Photo by me

This weekend, I drove to New Jersey to watch an Ultimate Frisbee tournament. In the past, I had only ever driven to New Jersey to visit the shore, where my grandparents live. Frisbee tournaments, however, are held in the middle of nowhere, as I was about to find out.

The day started off pretty well: I knocked on the door of my friend who I was borrowing a car from until she woke up. She gave me a sleepy hug and sent me on my way, so I don’t think she was too mad. I had Beyoncé’s new album playing and a bagel with strawberry cream cheese, so everything was looking up. I found my way to 476 before Partition had even started playing. As soon as I passed the bridge into Jersey, however, I realized that I might have gotten myself in over my head.

The landscape changed from the well-populated outskirts of Philly to cornfields. It was the kind of place where you can take a wrong turn and drive for 10 miles before you even realized you were lost. I had no GPS, not even the spotty Apple maps, because I am the proud owner of a dinosaur phone. If I got lost, I would have to call someone—a friend, my sister, my mom—and ask them to Google where I was and how I could possibly get to where I wanted to go. Determined to not miss a single sign, or a single line of my one woman Beyoncé sing along, I plunged into the depths of rural Jersey.

I did quite well for most of the trip. My handwritten directions that I had copied off of Google before the drive were very accurate, except for one turn where I had to take a gamble: make a turn to follow the road I thought I was supposed to be on, or not turn because I hadn’t written that I was supposed to turn until much later? I turned; and luckily it worked out.

I got all the way to the town in which the tournament was taking place before things turned sour. The town was a very small rural town. There was a Main Street with two gas stations and a church and not much else. It was the kind of town where Main Street is easy to find because it’s the center of town, but it’s hard to find anything else. Unfortunately, the park I was looking for was not on Main Street. I drove around for a while, trying to find my way, but it was no use. My written directions had not prepared me for this; I needed Google or a local. I stopped at one of the 2 gas stations to ask for directions, but the woman behind the counter was not the local that I had been looking for.

The next closest business was the post office. As I pulled into the parking lot in my car with Vermont plates, marking me as someone who had no idea where I was and what I was doing, I was getting a little hysterical. The tournament had started 10 minutes ago; I only had a few hours until I had to be back on campus and what if I never found it? Another car had pulled into the parking lot just in front of me; a white mustang. A guy in his twenties got out of it and headed for the post office when I intercepted him. I told him that I was so sorry to bother him, but I was looking for Upper Neck road. I told him that I was going to a park to watch some Frisbee. I must have sounded insane. He had grown up in this town, and said that he lived on Upper Neck road. What a coincidence. He tried to give me verbal directions a few times, but must have taken pity on me because he volunteered to drive there and I could follow him.

This random stranger that I will probably never meet again dropped his post office errand and drove several miles out of his way (in his super sweet car) to show a lost tourist the way to a Frisbee tournament. I don’t know who he is, but I am infinitely grateful to him. I’m glad that even though I ventured outside of the Bryn Mawr bubble that day, I still found people who are as kind and accommodating as I’ve come to expect from spending all of my time with Bryn Mawr students. Also, when I looked in the glove compartment to put my things there for safekeeping, I found that my friend had a GPS in there the whole time.