I don’t know about you but I barely made it to the end.

2021 might go down as one of the hardest years of my life. I truly don’t know how I made it to the end. My mental, emotional, and physical health hasn’t been this fragile since my late teens. I blame COVID, a tough educational transition, and a year's worth of natural disasters and political divisions that have almost torn us apart as a nation and as a global community.

I wonder if the dam has burst. If you get the reference let me know.

Last year, I reflected on 202o by sharing the moments, the people, and the ideas that have changed my way of thinking and living and seeing, and 2021 was no different in terms of inspiration and eye-opening paradigm shifts.

So here goes my attempt of making sense of the year that nearly brought me to my knees.

On Homesickness

I think on May 5th I might have turned in my last undergraduate assignment. Closing that chapter, I packed up my dorm room and drove to the Midwest on May 7th. Never mind walking across the stage to physically get handed a degree. I was dying to get out of the mountains.

I didn’t start there.

I started in the Piedmont region of North Carolina. Charlotte and Mecklenberg County more specifically.

But I decided to trade in the city skyscrapers for the Blue Ridge Mountains because I wanted a change of pace (and because I was tired of looking at all of the construction). And by the time my undergrad experience was over I was dying to go somewhere new. And besides, doesn’t everyone from the South dream of leaving one day? Of making it out?

But there are some sayings that are really important and really true…be careful what you wish for and there is no place like home.

The Midwest is beautiful. Michigan is quite the dream. But nothing beats North Carolina. Nothing beats the South.

But that’s hard to see when you’re in it. You don’t realize that people from other parts of the country are making fun of you or are typecasting you into a stereotype, into an accent, into a backward way of thinking, a group of people stuck in the past with a monopoly on racism and sexism, and every phobia you can think of.

And maybe we are all of those things. After all, I can still name a few of the sundown towns, and it never really matters if I give you my name because I am always sweetheart with a hand on the small of my waist.

But we are also so much more than that. A region of the country that still provides so much— not just Christmas trees, sweet potatoes, unique culinary traditions, and manufacturing spaces. But we remain at the forefront of political conversations, of culture, of identity. It is out of the South that the foundation of our country was born.

I have never experienced homesickness in my life until I moved to Ann Arbor. I never understood why people stayed in the same place they were born or where they went to high school. And now I get it. What’s the point of moving if you already have a community that knows you? That sees you? That gets you?

Be careful what you wish for Elina. You just might get it.

Grad School

Name something more meta than attending policy school while living through some of the most important domestic, social, and international policy implications of your lifetime? Name something more sad than waking up every day wondering if the discipline you’ve committed yourself to, will adequately give you the tools to solve some of the world’s pressing problems?

I am having fun and I am thoroughly enjoying my experience as a U of M student. And Ford comes with its perks (prominent professors, lectures, and student engagement activities that are pretty surreal). But the higher you go into academia, the more bureaucratic it can get. And often I find myself fighting with the same archaic and harmful policy frameworks, I am trying to dismantle.

The fight persists, I guess. And my classes next semester seem promising (more economics, more quant methods, more research, more advocacy).

COVID-19 & Grief

*Trigger Warning: this section of the blog will talk about hard things—mainly death and grief and COVID and anger*

800,000 Americans have died of COVID.

We have vaccines and boosters and yet more people died this year than when we didn’t.

People can’t even get tests without waiting in long lines for hours at a time.

Roughly 175,000 children have lost a caregiver to this pandemic.

Hospitals remain overwhelmed.

And many of us have lost 2 years’ worth of plans, financial and job stability, normalcy, and certainty.

We are talking extensively about infrastructure and institutional frameworks in this country— from health to education to transportation. But where are our conversations about grief? What infrastructure exists that helps children, that help all of us, make sense of death in large numbers? Of loss that compounds itself over time?

We know what the nation is doing to rebuild— the Bipartisan Infrastructure Framework, the Build Back Better bill, the COVID Relief Package—but what is the nation doing to mourn? And what does it mean that we are not having larger conversations about how to take a breath?

And what does it mean that a kid has to go to school every day with a hole in their heart, with teachers and counselors ill-equipped and overwhelmed to handle grief and loss of this magnitude?

Like many of you, my heart broke a million times over, reading some of the headlines this year. From Afghanistan to Haiti, abortion laws regressing, rising spikes in fentanyl and meth overdoses, and gun violence across the country.

But nothing hit me harder than reading about children. Especially those in the foster care system in which I grew up. Children who were already invisible started plunging further into the darkness.

As a kid, school was my place of refuge and for many children, it remains that hopeful place, closest to magic on its best day or a cheap escape on its worst. I needed a place that felt safe to dream, where for a few hours I was given positive reinforcement and kindness and patience I never got at home. I could not imagine being a kid during this time. Not to mention the politicization of quality and equitable education where every child can feel seen and respected. I have no idea how they are possibly faring through all of this—I don’t think I would have made it.

Of course, I am sad that so many people refuse to get vaccinated. Even after we’ve seen how much this virus has torn our world upside down. Even after our former president got vaccinated and boosted while peddling vaccine misinformation. But I am not surprised. When people don’t feel like their fears are being validated or their questions answered, when people are more likely to listen to a stranger on Facebook or a podcaster over doctors and virologists…it makes sense.

It’s infuriating but it is also a matter of trust. If I don’t trust you why should I believe that you have my best interest at heart?

So the question remains: What does our government have to do to rebuild trust? What does our media have to do to rebuild trust? What does the scientific community have to do to build trust? Because for so long we have been acting as if those things are just a given.

But millions of people are saying no to life-saving vaccinations that could help change the course of this pandemic. And millions of people around the world still don’t have access to the vaccines let alone the boosters. Everyone who is unvaccinated isn’t an anti-vaxxer, and the longer we keep choosing that narrative over recognizing the barriers people face, the more mistakes we will make.

We keep talking about going back to normal, but arguably normal brought us here. Can we try something else? Because at this rate people are still losing their lives and their sanity and their certainty. And I don’t know how much longer we can keep living like this. For the sake of our children can we all try a little bit harder?

One last thing! Do me a favor? Follow Faces of COVID on Twitter. It is an account dedicated to telling the “stories of those lost to COVID per news reports, obits & submissions”. Because “they were more than a statistic.”

Directly pulled from the WH website. Surely no one thought this would be helpful right?

Favorite Books of the Year

This was a reading year like no other. 105 books read. Here are just some of my favorites that stood out to me. I hope you find time to pick them up soon.

The Undocumented Americans by Karla Cornejo Villavivencio

Race After Technology by Ruha Benjamin

There There by Tommy Orange

In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado

This is How You Lose A Time War by Max Gladstone and Amal El-Mohtar

Know My Name by Chanel Miller

Disability Visibility Edited by Alice Wong

Five Days At Memorial Hospital by Sheri Fink

The FireKeeper’s Daughter by Angeline Boulley

Low Country by J. Nicole Jones

A Brief History of Seven Killings by Marlon James

Sharks in The Time of Saviors by Kawai Strong Washburn

Braiding Sweet Grass by Robin Wall Kimmerer

Pachinko by Min Jin Lee

The City of Brass by S.A Chakraborty

The Best Music

When ‘Industry Baby’ by Lil Nas X and Jack Harlow wasn’t on repeat, I kept returning to some stand-out music.

5 of my favorite albums this year were:

According to my Spotify Wrapped: my top five listened to artists this year were

Kanye West
Chelsea Cutler
J. Cole
Ruby Waters
Drake

And some of my favorite singles of the year?

Things I Loved

This was the year of trying new things. And building new habits.

I fell in love with Honey Mama’s Chocolates because don’t we all deserve happiness in our lives? The Coffee Nib Crunch, Oregon Mint, Coconut, and Ginger Cardamom are the best in my opinion.
And Christine’s Cookie Co. fell on my radar just when I was getting tired of the same old cookie recipes I’ve been reaching for. They are truly the best. The Black Sesame Oreo cookie is life-changing. Thank me later.
Do you remember when I told you I’d started drinking coffee? When I have the time I’ll brew my own, and with the help of Trade Coffee Co., I’ve been learning about new roasters across the U.S.
- Hyperion is a local favorite.
- Methodical Coffee is based out of Greenville, South Carolina. I keep going back to their Colombia, Frontera De Planadas. It’s everything you love about Colombian coffee without the bitterness.
- Huck is the ever famous coffee brand based in Denver Colorado. Chances are you’ve seen their can’t miss prints around. The Gichuki was my first coffee from them, and I was pleasantly surprised with how well I could test every note of the coffee.
- Last but not least is ReAnimator, based in Phili. I’ve had the Guatemala blend with notes of brown sugar and lemon candy. It is such a treat.
I’ve been living at one of two theatres throughout these past few months. When I’m not at State Theatre, I’ll walk about 15 steps until I reach the Michigan Theatre. Doesn’t matter. The movies they screen are always top tier. And because I have to pass them on my walk back home from school, it’s always a great way to decompress and end the day.
My new favorite book store: Literati.

What’s Next?

No resolutions and barely any goals. I’ve decided to not download Insta on my phone again, so I’m seeing how far I can keep that streak going. Of course, I’ll continue to read and write because honestly, those are the only things I’m good at.

And maybe I’m not. But at least I enjoy doing them. And I’m always willing to get better.

And lastly: what’s that quote by Toni Morrison?

“I insist on being shocked. I am never going to become immune. I think that’s a kind of failure to see so much of it that you die inside. I want to be surprised and shocked every time.”

In 2022 I want to be surprised and shocked every time.

And I think it was Leonard Cohen who said something along the lines of “Avoid the flourish. Do not be afraid to be weak.”

So in 2022, I hope to do that as well.

Thanks for another year with me and this blog. I hope in some small way, it’s provided you with something.

And excuse the grammatical and spelling mistakes along the way. We do what we want to here,

em

cover image by https://unsplash.com/@elaineeee

all other images by me!

The End of the Year is Here