Location: George Herbert Bush International Airport.
The world has changed and we must change with it.
Barack Obama, Inaugural Address.
If there were to be an ironic coda to our journey overseas, it could have only played out because of the airlines. Our delayed departure from Lima caused us to miss our connecting flight from Houston to Chicago and as a result, our almost-inseparable pack dispersed fighting for stand-by seats, lunch vouchers and an early return home.
The trip was over before we knew it and I found myself stuck in a “special” line at the Houston arrivals hall, having all my finger- and palm-prints diligently taken on the morning of the inauguration. That morning the immigration authorities decided to add a third category to their usual two: we weren’t just divided into “Visitors” and “Citizens and U. S. Residents,” but rather into: “Visitors,” “Citizens” and separately – quite beyond the ordinary regulations – “Residents.” As my picture was being taken and the last of the group drifted off into the customs area, I was abruptly reminded of the ambiguous space I occupy, neither quite here nor there: a fool who gave up a clear-cut identity for a conspicuous, second-grade status in the U.S. of A.
But hey, what are the cell phones for? My disconnected-ness did not last long. The return from the roaming area freed our accounts from the extra charges and the scattered remnants of our group reconvened at the gate E—31, faced with an impossible dilemma of celebrating OUR inauguration not at the home base – the White House West as some call it – but in Houston, TX of all places. The primary objective became locating a TV set with an audio and we would have not settled for anything less. We accomplished our mission by virtually taking over “Ruby’s Diner” as our little group huddled around the entire bar demanding energetically that the CNN volume gets turned all the way up, while the Muzzak gets turned all the way down. Believe me, I know something about the food industry policies and the inauguration made some employees bend the corporate rules for us pretty heavily. And so we were, cheering the new presidency with the morning beers and biting into fast food burgers (well, at least some of us were enjoying the beef), surrounded by equally engrossed wait staff, cooks, TSA officers, and other travelers. It surely did seem as if at 11.05 am that morning the Houston airport had temporarily suspended its usual activity.
Lucka, Joe, Corrina, Tang.
The oath.
This moment of a hopeful standstill actually made me reflect on the way we think of our work and the notions of professional engagement that are engrained in us. Let’s face it, by day 14 we were quite sick of one another and the vision of yet another group activity made us quietly nauseate. Yet, at the Houston airport all those feelings appeared to have fallen away while we cheered Barack Obama’s inaugural address. Nationality and attitudes did not matter at that particular point: we all applauded, clapped our hands and had tears in our eyes. Regardless of the utopian resonance of the phrase, we actually did come together for a brief moment.
Anne, Katie, Kirsten.
So far Obama has been praised as a pragmatist, who actually wants to get things done, rather than an ideologue, who will succumb policy to the hard lines. While I cannot predict the future, I am quite certain that I want my own work to be informed by an acute awareness of the contingency of my practice. Away with the romantic notions of the heroic, individual effort! While the vision is necessary to guide us and keep us inspired, I see the only sensible future in forming strategic partnerships that will help us forward our not common – but at least compatible – goals. This is not a call for any kind of new collectivism, but a reminder that we’re all in the same mess: together. The times are tough and we cannot risk our voices being lost in the cacophony of complaints and cries for help. So while some of us take pisco sours over soda, let’s make sure to keep the conversations going. This is the only way to get things done.
~Dorota
