On August 18, 2011, I will begin graduate studies at the University of Arizona. Split between the schools of Journalism and the recently renamed Middle East and North Africa, my dual Masters tracks’ classes will focus on Arabic development, transboundary resource tension, and the latest newstech.
Many family and friends offered me a range of advice and counseled wisely from Hiroshima to DC, Boerne to Bellingham. I greatly, deeply appreciated the 23 replies I got with thoughtful words. This combined wisdom – even if I chose to not directly follow it – helped me shape a decision I am immensely proud of and excited to enact.
Tucson boasts perhaps the closest program fit for me in the entire world: journalism, climate and MENA faculty and facilities bar-none. Space-based science projects to predict how climate change will effect us all; journalism professors with experience from Saigon to Baghdad; and a reputation for language training level with the Ivy League, Austin and Ann Arbor. If you know me, too, you know the desert is my country. I might get a red neck with the quickness, but I’ll be damned if there is any better scent than petrichor - rainfall on the sand.
(Oh wait, Mom’s granola baking is doubtlessly superior.)
The faculty and administration at Tucson have also overwhelmed me with their hospitality and warmth. Nowhere did I feel such an immediate draw, not only to a new place to explore, but to a program that wanted me not just as a customer, but as a contributor and teaching assistant. While the complete scholarships made the decision much easier, on a program-to-program basis (sadly ignoring the familial ties to Texas or the ambition of Georgetown) Arizona is heads above the rest.
Thank you Maggy Zanger for making that so obvious.
My rough plan is arrive in Seattle August 5, when I hope to see many of you over some pork products and microbrews. A scant ten days later, my father and I will pack up a car (whose identity is yet clear) and drive through the Southwest to get me to Tucson just in time to take an Arabic placement exam and learn how to be the best teaching assistant I can be.
This might sound strange, but I knew I had made the right decision when I began seeing the word Tucson everywhere in Ramallah.
Guess what Palestine’s favorite SUV is?
