Columbia's influence, then and now

Much of my absolute joy at graduation in May 1994 came from my absolute certainty about what I was going to do with my life. I had majored in German. I had spent summers in Europe. My Japanese mom and Turkish dad had instilled in me a love of the international. I had worked at Spectator and done media internships. I was going to be a journalist. And I was going to live abroad.

That fall I left for Berlin to study on a year-long fellowship. Once there, I landed an internship at the Associated Press. I explored the city, I made friends, I watched this European capital reinvent itself. I learned about reporting and writing from savvy, experienced journalists. I soaked up their advice and the opportunities they offered me. Everything was on track.

But a strange thing happened as my fellowship drew to a close. Though I had some possibilities to work as a journalist in Germany, my mentors advised me to return to the U.S. to launch my career. Much to my own surprise, I wanted to come home.
I interned at the Chicago Tribune, which then led to a reporting job at the Seattle Times. A couple years later, I moved on to a job at the Denver Post. My journalism career was going strong. I got to live in some amazing cities. I did some important stories. I developed into a talented writer and a spirited reporter. I plotted my next move.

Then my father was diagnosed with cancer. The possibility of losing my dad was debilitating. He was the person I was closest to and most like in the world. He was the person I’d shared so many excited conversations with about Music Hum and Lit Hum and Buddhism and German history while I was at Columbia. I realized that my best choice was to move back to Minnesota, where I’d grown up, to be closer to him and my mom.

I moved to Minneapolis, and I took a job at the alternative weekly. It was disorienting, but it was also liberating: I got to experiment with writing in ways I couldn’t at a daily paper. More importantly, I got to spend time with my dad. During the year before he died, I began to understand that yes, I had rerouted my career, but I had also rerouted my priorities. And by truly living through that year and all of its raw experiences—joy, sadness, humor, grief, life, death, love, family—I broke down many of my preconceptions about life and started to build them back up again, with a different perspective. I became a stronger person, and I became a better writer.

I stayed in Minneapolis, something that never entered my mind as a possibility back on Class Day. I met my husband here, and we have a beautiful two-year-old daughter. I often think about the fact that they wouldn’t be in my life had my post-collegiate road not zigzagged. I went to graduate school and explored the intersection of health and writing—something that had always interested me, but crystallized while my dad was sick. After grad school I spent three years working at the University of Minnesota, teaching journalism, overseeing the health journalism master’s program and doing freelance writing. A few months ago I switched jobs to focus even more on health and writing. I now work at the Minnesota Department of Health, managing communications around our state’s comprehensive health reform law that passed last May.

When I think back to Columbia, I’m often amused at how totally different my life looks today compared to my youthful expectations. That’s not only OK—it’s wonderful. It’s great to have ambition and drive—those are the things that got us all into, and through, Columbia. But what I’ve learned since then is that they’re only part of the equation: You’ve also got to be open to life—the exhilarating, the devastating, the strange, the surprising. While every job or situation I’ve been in hasn’t necessarily been perfect, I’ve always known that I could grow from those experiences and then make my next zig or zag when the time was right. I attribute that confidence to the foundation I built at Columbia, and to the life experiences I’ve had since.

Columbia’s particular situation in New York City and its philosophy about giving back to the world took root in me, both in my career as a journalist, and now in the public sector. My experiences at Columbia developed my instinct to want to make a difference in the world—both personally, with my family, and for society. For that I’m grateful and glad, and excited to see how my road twists and turns in the next fifteen years, and beyond.