Project Dissertation

I moved to this fabulous city three years ago mainly to; be near an airport for travel, be able to not trade my stilletos for trainers, and to finish my doctoral studies in four years. Yes, that pretty much sums up my priorities at 30. So now I am ABD with nine months to go and San Francisco is no easy city to ignore. Although, I would argue that each experience that deters my academic writing is really just needed inspiration. Welcome and I hope you enjoy...

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Location: San Francisco, California, United States

Bilingual, Bicultural, and Dual Citizen. J School B.A., M.A. in High Incidence Disabilities, & ABD in Education.

Tuesday, May 22, 2007


The size of this city...

Chaperoned my 10th and final high school prom: Six in LA and Four in SF. Every year the experience has been different. This year was none the less sweeter. Sometimes, my girlfriends donated their formals and accessories for the girls that didn't have anything to wear. Sometimes, I donated things from my own closet, or took the girls shopping.

Somehow I remembered how to make fresh corsages and boutonnieres out of fresh flowers so the students wouldn't go without. This year I stood back taking in the room full of youth from four different schools, and countless neighborhoods. They were dancing and singing the night away, together.

For the first time in ten years I went out after prom without my charges. Graduated from diners to a celebratory drink in the nearby Marina, with teachers I had both helped train and collaborated with. I must admit, I craved a milkshake.
My friend and her family drove in from LA, still asleep I offered to make breakfast. Relied on the salsa verde my mom had left me and the refrigerator full of groceries. Took out the chocomil for the kids, scrambled up the eggs, and refried the beans, heated the tortillas, made myself a cup of extra dark nescafe.

My friend generously downloaded her course syllabus to lighten my own work.
Turned down lunch offers, and gave up on going back to bed. Worked side by side with my friend. Took in the sun on the Haight and thought, some days can't get better. Yet they do.

By the afternoon my friends and I sat around the kitchen table. Drinking the tequila my papi had sent me and eating the salsa I had diced up as well as the botanas they had picked up. We played 21, sat on the stoop, I figured they would head out into the city, and I would stay home.
Maybe it was the blending of new friends, what seemed like an easy compromise. The night found us back in the Mission, out for late night Korean food, and finally back to the music. Nothing like being invited to the front of the line, walking into a stunning loft, and be handed drink tickets.
It was 5am Sunday: I think the phone and texts started humming at 9am...


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