"The Only Constant is Change"

Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.

-- George Bernard Shaw 

After much soul searching, Ted decided to leave the bench and the world of academia behind. It wasn't making him happy and was, in fact, affecting his health and by extension, our quality of life. So, with great hope and excitement, Ted embarked on the fun road of job hunting in what he referred to as "the real world". And lo! He is now the Scientific Editor for a Ebiomedicine,  a new journal that reviews and publishes scientific journals that relate to the field of translational medicine. 

Last summer, I had just started a development internship at Community Research Initiative (CRI) as well as a position working most weekdays as a per diem clinical social worker in inpatient psychiatry units at a hospital in town. After my internship wrapped up in the beginning of December, I began working every weekend as a clinical social worker on various medicine floors at Boston Medical Center (in addition to my continued work in psychiatry during the week). Around the same time Ted was doing his soul-searching and answering the question of "what next" for himself, Ted and I had good discussions about how we were well-positioned to be able to carefully look for and choose jobs in fields we really wanted to be in, especially given that we are at a stage in life where a big part of our time and identity is wrapped up in what we do for work. I was doing all these various things to learn more about these different areas as I'm a big believer of testing things out, if I'm able to; Ted had just experienced the negative affects of a bad fit. Thus, we encouraged each other to really think about what we wanted to do, take action, and see where the cards fell. With this sense of renewed purpose, I also applied for another new job and am now the first-ever palliative care social worker at Boston Medical Center. Palliative care is a field I've long been interested in, and is in part what influenced my decision to return to school to become a social worker all those years ago (over a decade ago, now!). As someone who loves finding connections, you can be assured that this greatly pleases my sense of coming full circle, so to speak. And yes, here we go with yet another new beginning for the both of us at the same time (we've become quite accustomed to having change in our lives).

But wait. What did this change in employment mean for our visa status? It meant that it was time to change our visa status from our current J-status to a TN visa status. As Canadians and with jobs that fall under the NAFTA professionals list, we were eligible to apply for this non-immigrant status visa. We each applied for this in different ways: Ted's employer completed a petition for this change in visa status, which was processed without Ted having to meet with anyone in person; for my part, after gathering the necessary documents (in short: your degree [the original], passport, application fee, and one of the key pieces -- a formal letter from your prospective employer, preferably written by their legal team), we took a drive to the Canadian border to process my visa request in person!! As the visa is meant to be processed upon entry into the country, I had to drive across the border into Canada (Quebec) and immediately turn around to cross the border into the US again. Made for some interesting questioning at the border:

Border guard: When were you last in the United States?

Me: Um... 5 minutes ago. I just crossed the border over there. **points across the way** 

So, in the end, Ted and I both now have our own TN visa statuses that are independent of each other. Overall, Ted's visa took a bit longer to process once all the documentation was submitted; mine was much quicker (ie. essentially immediate) once I had everything I needed and presented myself at the border at my appointed time. Thank you, NAFTA agreement! 

Time-saving tip: Call the designated point of entry you have decided to cross that processes TN visas to make an appointment ahead of time and clarify the documents you need!!! We learned this the hard way and ended up driving up to Highgate Springs, Vermont twice. It is, after all U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP) that will be processing this visa request.

Welcome (back) to America! The border at Highgate Springs, VT from the Canadian side.

The 18-Month Rollercoaster

It was approximately 18 months ago that Ted and I made some decisions that started a jam-packed, rollicking journey that would mark an Interesting Period of our lives. Here's a brief timeline and some of the main events that have happened in this time:

In these past months, I've learned a few things:

~ Boston is ripe with American history -- one can randomly come across some plaque or stone marker indicating what Important Event (such as where Washington first took command of American troops) related to the American Revolution occurred there. However, there doesn't appear to be a whole lot of information regarding First Nations populations here or pre-contact populations (you know, before the Pilgrims with their hats arrived at Plymouth Rock), so  I tried to find out a bit more about the area. Boston (and I think Cambridge) sits on the Massachusett traditional territory, the tribe the state of Massachusetts is named after. I've tried to look up information about this particular tribe, but apparently, while there are small bands living around the state, the people were nearly wiped out during post-colonial contact. Their language (and the word Massachusetts) is a dialect of Algonquin. Here's a map from Wikipedia:

~ Massachusetts has a form of socialized healthcare and has for some time. It's a point of pride, apparently.
~ I've mentioned this one before - the immigration process is a painful exercise in waiting... which I whine about despite coming to the U.S. under good circumstances and carrying a Canadian passport (the point being that this very likely makes it much easier for me than someone carrying another sort of passport or identification).
~ Apparently, one needs a Social Security Number (aka "a social") in order to do a number of things such as: apply for a job, get a driver's license, apply to see if one is eligible to take a social work licensing exam, get a bank account (although, we were able to circumvent this somehow), do volunteer work (they need your social to run a check on you), etc. One cannot get a social until their immigration stuff is done. See above point.
~ A surprising number of people do not know what you mean when asking for a washroom. One should request a bathroom.
~ Boston has a super great food scene. I'm glad I had a full physical, including blood pressure and cholesterol check earlier this year. Who knows what the numbers will be the next time I have a check up.
~ Reconnecting with old friends, even ones you haven't seen or spoken to in years (even since junior high school), is always lovely and fun. You get to hear all the interesting things that have happened with people in those intervening years. It's never boring.
~ Job-hunting, particularly when one is trying to pursue new-ish areas of social work that have long been of interest, is not the time to be squeamish! Many applications were sent out! Many interviews (in person and via phone) were scheduled! Many diplomatic rejection letters/responses came in.... I started the process tentatively at first and eventually found myself perusing job postings and saying to myself, "well, I don't necessarily fit 100% of the preferences or requirements, but I'm going to apply anyway!". And I did. The worst that could happen, I figured? No response or a "no" (something I was getting used to, anyway). I mean, it still sucked. And some days, Ted would come home to find me being overly-dramatic and bemoaning my life (like I said -- dramatic). I'm sure he was always really happy about that.
~ One in-person, super supportive person in your life can change everything. Ted and I have a great support network. Unfortunately, most of this network is currently not in Boston and while emails and such are fantastic, it's just not the same as commiserating with or bouncing ideas off someone in person. So, we've leaned heavily on each other as we navigated some of the milestones we've recently experienced. I'm not certain I would have survived the emotional ups and downs that have occurred without Ted. I'm sure there were times where he wasn't certain he would survive my emotional ups and downs, either. But, I'd like to think the reverse is true as well and while his emotional ups and downs look very different from mine, I'm sure he had them, too. Having that person also gives us the freedom and luxury of BEING dramatic and wallowing in short-lived dumpitudes before getting our act together (sometimes at the prodding of the other person), acknowledging how blessed we are, and plugging along.

Practically Locals!! (Reprise)

I'm back on the grid! I'm no longer an anonymous (well...actually, I am still anonymous, but you know what I mean) person who has to truck around her passport for ID purposes wherever she goes! I got myself some bona fide U.S. identification bearing my name, face, signature, and in one case, my fingerprint.

My passport reassures me that I'm still Canadian, though. Phew! :)

Besides the ID thing, I've slowly been attempting to integrate into the community beyond the neighbourhood and restaurant/eatery explorations we still do and the visits to the wine store across the street.

I'm volunteering at the little community centre near our place that have various neat programs that run out of it for kids of all ages. I get to help out with middle school aged people who are at once hilarious, sassy, naive, worldly and terrifying. It's a community centre in a true sense: it's been around for ages and generations of families have gone through here; it's an old building that you can tell has been added onto over time, making it look a bit like a building that's been cobbled together; there's a weekend market that happens here with fantastic locally grown/harvested/made veggies, seafood, cheeses, etc.; and it really feels like a meeting place for the neighbourhood.

Just beyond that tree there is an art piece titled "Inner City Totem"

Also, to feed my love of learning languages (although, I don't have a natural aptitude for it), I've started taking Spanish lessons! At this point, I can have a super basic conversation as long as it doesn't deviate from asking basic questions (names, where one lives, how someone is), listing members of the family, listing random foods, and occasionally asking at what time something is (when I can remember how to formulate the question). And I can count to 50. Ta-da! Learning!

Also, I can list random nouns. Makes for riveting conversation, no?

See? I'm practically a local!

Hasta luego (<-- learning AND applying new skills).

Acculturation

I'm going through an acculturation process. Nothing really ground-breaking or unique there, but I figured I'd put it out there, anyway. The supposed four stages of it are: the honeymoon phase (optimism and idealism abound!); the hostility phase (frustration, confusion and discontent abound); the humour phase (reflection of experiences, beginning to relax, and the ability to laugh about the situation and feelings of confusion re-emerge); the home phase (renewed feelings of optimism). I currently yo-yo between variations of stages 2 and 3. Of course, the immigration/visa/employment seeking stuff (which go hand-in-hand-in-hand for me) is the biggest contributor to the feelings of "stage 2" frustration that can wallop me on the head and put me in a sour mood (which Ted can probably attest to. Poor guy.). Probably also has to do with the whole shifting sense of identity thing. 

How I'm experiencing acculturation. Yup. Those are my true, sometimes irrational (re: stage 2), thoughts.

A bit of a digression:

The short of it is, to work here, I need a certain type of visa; not a green card or anything quite as ornerous as that, thank goodness. I even have a couple of options: 1) as a Canadian with a certain level of education in my field, I'm eligible for a TN visa; 2) as someone who entered the country affiliated with my husband who already has a visa that allows him to work (in my case, a J-2 visa), I can apply for authorization to work, go through that process and ultimately get approval (and a document that says so!) to work under the J-2. Just last week, I had my biometrics taken: I was fingerprinted and my picture was taken as part of this process for the J-2 visa. It took all of 5 minutes, but this appointment came after weeks of waiting. And at the end of that appointment, ZERO information was given to me until I turned back and asked what was next. At which point I was told to wait for something in the mail that will either be a document that says I'm fine to work (or further steps I may need to take.). My visa process is actually easy and yet there are still hoops to jump through, the paperwork to wade through and fill out, and a lack of communication -- I can't even imagine what the process must be like for people applying to immigrate or applying for asylum or any number of more difficult applications.

                         
I expected this acculturation experience somewhat and therefore we do what we can to make the ongoing transition smoother: we continue to explore the city, we have a routine going, and like a diligent person who is living in any new country or city, I try to keep up with current events (and then relay the headlines to Ted like some sort of personal news ticker). I start my mornings by watching the local and national news while having coffee...which inevitably leads to me getting all worked up over topics like the Affordable Care Act, the Tea Partiers (and finding out that Ted Cruz was born in Canada), the ongoing gun control debate...

I'm not a complete stranger to the stages of acculturation. I went through a version of this when I did my internship in Masaka Town, Uganda, complete with a meltdown that consisted of tears and feelings of anxiety about what I had gotten myself into and anxiety over seemingly simple things such as walking around town by myself during the first few weeks that I was there. This eventually mellowed into feelings of being comfortable, feeling connected to my host family, becoming more optimistic, happy, and loving what I was doing. But that process made sense. For me, Uganda really was an unknown country and Masaka Town was very different from Vancouver, BC. I guess I sometimes give myself a hard time about going through this process because despite being able to rationalize it and despite expecting it, I'm still somewhat surprised by how marked my feelings can be -- and this is due to my preconceived notions. I mean, unlike Uganda, the U.S. isn't exactly completely unknown to me - it's part of the same continent, there are some historic cultural ties due to a shared colonial history, both countries have English as their dominant language, etc., etc. The U.S., to my mind, has always been our neighbour to the south with the permeable (to Canadians) border, the accessible cross-border shopping, the hockey teams we love to hate, and the attitudes we sometimes like to mock (see previous paragraph). Obviously, there is more to this major American city and my thoughts and feelings about living here are constantly evolving.

Well, I tell myself that surprised or not, it's happening. I like to think that I've been pretty positive overall (notwithstanding the incidents where I've taken my frustrations out on Ted. Ha!). Nothing to do but hang on for the ride while drawing from my upbringing of good ol' fashioned Chinese stoicism and at the same time, taking the time to laugh at myself. Or, in my particular case (and as my sister put it), I just need to remember to:

Practically Locals!!

I can hardly believe it's been 6 weeks since we arrived in Boston, Massachusetts and 5 since moving into our first apartment in Cambridge. We're just starting to feel as if we live here now, rather than having a lovely extended vacation. It's early days yet, but we've even settled into a daily routine of sorts: Ted does his science thing on campus at M.I.T. and I do my employment-seeking, work visa sorting thing (more on that at a later date....). On the weekends, we go forth and explore different neighbourhoods around Boston and Cambridge. We even stumbled upon a Honk! festival:
















My weekdays include the employment-seeking, work visa sorting thing (again, more on that at a later date...) as well as my own exploration of our neighbourhood. This means I've made use of the post office, found my neighbourhood yarn store, a crafts store, the park, and decided on my favourite coffee shop. Nerd that I am, my happiest "local" moment was when I got my library card:

Ta-da!

Main entrance to the Public Library

An older wing of the library
-- which ironically houses the computer lab

Every now and then, we like to obnoxiously proclaim that "we're practically locals!!!". This means that in addition to having an apartment, a bank account, a credit card, real furniture, and the various insurances we need, we also have a Charlie card (transit card), a CVS card (similar to a Shoppers Drug Mart card), have found our neighbourhood diner, a few pubs/watering holes, sushi place (yes! it's true!), grocery store, wine store, pharmacy, hardware store, and waffle place -- places to which locals, not just tourists, go. Hooray! 

So, without further delay, I present you with pictorial documentation of our lives as new Cantabrigians (<-- I'm even learning new words!):

Cambridge City Hall

Cambridge Rindge and Latin School -- Matt Damon and Ben Affleck's former school

Pretty street nearby

Joan Lorentz Park

Pictures along our street

Identity

I'm going to start with this: I am a very fortunate and privileged person. I won't even begin to list the ways which exemplifies the truth of this statement; the list would be crazily, ridiculously long. However, borne of this fortune and privilege is the ability to consciously formulate an identity and think about what that means to me and its impacts on how I see myself and subsequently how I project myself to the world.

Ted and I have now been in Boston for a solid 2 weeks. In that time, we've found an apartment in Cambridge, opened a bank account, applied for credit cards, attempted to apply for social security numbers (we can't right now because the American government has been shutdown for a week and the two parties are at a stalemate), and started to shop for furniture and supplies and all those good household items. So far it's been a lot of fun and a good exercise in budgeting as well as 'dreaming big and whittling down'. :) There were a few moments when Ted and I felt pretty certain we heard our parents' voices coming out of our own mouths. The horror. :)

But, I digress. During the entering of the U.S. and the renting of the apartment and the signing of the lease and the opening of the bank account and the application for the credit card, I was reminded over and over of our situation. Ted was being "sponsored" into the U.S. through his work, and by extension, so was I. Thus, I am currently an extension of Ted. Even my entry visa puts me as "Spouse". Ted is the primary signatory on most things as he has the entry visa that confirms he is employed and will therefore have an income. Before we came to Massachusets, I willingly decided to change my last name and changed my passport accordingly. I was now Alexandra D., no longer Alexandra T. It was sort of strange at the time but not a big deal. Had we remained in Vancouver, I think I would have still had a solid sense of who this Alexandra D. person was: a young, hard-working CP social worker with many interests (chief among them: food and wine), financially independent, a home-owner, and newly a wife. I had a healthy and active social life that allowed me in-person, face-to-face access to a solid network of family and friends who are similar and therefore confirmed my sense of who I was. I might have had an easier time figuring out who Alexandra D. is since many other aspects of my life would have remained recognizable. Now, having moved to a city on the opposite coast with a different surname and where I'm noted as technically being a dependent and where we know only a handful of people, my sense of who Alexandra D. is has started to become something more difficult to grasp, which was inevitable, I suppose. The neat thing is that this is a great opportunity to try something quite different from what I was doing before. The truth is, it's sometimes an unnerving feeling and process and I think it's ok to acknowledge that. I'm young and at a new stage in my life. These shifts in my identity were going to happen regardless, but with so many changes happening all at once, I sometimes get overwhelmed.

This post isn't a complaint and I hope it won't be read as such. I make my choices willingly, happily and with great excitement of the possibilities ahead and am also secure in the knowledge that I am in a position to be able to make these choices. But I share the process I'm going through because I also think it can be a normal part of all this.

How many Canadian references can you spot?

So for now, as I take the time to explore my neighbourhood,
I know that part of what makes up who I am is "Canadian".

Best. Snuggie. Ever!

And maybe on some evenings, Batman --because who wouldn't want a chance to be the greatest superhero ever?

Life is Happening!

2013 has been a very busy year so far. We started in Vancouver. And now we're in Boston. New city, new try at the blog.

The short version of the story is: we got engaged, Ted got a post-doc position at M.I.T., we got married a few months later, slept on an air mattress for a few weeks while we packed up our stuff, and got on a plane for Boston a month after that.

We've been in Boston for 4 full days at this point, living out of our suitcases in a hotel, and spending our days looking for a place to live. It's both extremely stressful and extremely liberating having so much up in the air from where we'll be living to whether/where I may find work to how long we'll actually be here for, plus all the other issues in between. The answers to all of those question? No clue, yet.

We'll sort it out in time. In the meantime, Ted and I will just continue vacillating between being super excited with everything that is happening (and so quickly) and being extremely stressed out with everything that is happening (and so quickly).

"Life is a journey, not a destination." I'll drink to that, Ralph Waldo Emerson!