I'm Not Writing This for You

This week, it seems like every woman* I know has written a #metoo post about experiencing sexual harassment, sexual assault or rape. Whatever their reasons for posting, I thank those women for their bravery. However, there are plenty of women, like myself, who have chosen not to talk about their traumatic experiences in a Facebook post. And that doesn't make us any less brave or desirous for change. It simply means that we don't owe you our stories.

I'm not going to share the details of my own experiences with sexual harassment and assault, but I will share some details about how #metoo has affected me over the past few days:

• Curiosity. I see a few posts that simply say "me too." I don't know what we're talking about. I keep scrolling through Facebook to learn more.
• Realization. I almost named this bullet point "horror" but I think that word conveys too much of a sense of surprise. I know what we're talking about. My heart hurts for my friends and acquaintances, but I am not surprised. I know this stuff happens. A lot.
• Solidarity. I start liking people's posts and think about making one myself.
• Doubt. Is being catcalled enough to make a post about? Is being grabbed on a dance floor enough to make a post about? Have I been sexually assaulted? Did I say no loud enough? Did I say no at all? Is that consent?
• Pain. I'm talking breaking-down-in-the-shower kind of pain. The pain that comes with realizing how much of rape culture you've internalized. The pain that comes with realizing that no one had to hold you down and force you to do anything because you had already created a prison in your own head.
• Healing. I'm not faultless, but that doesn't mean all of this is my fault. 
• Anger. When are we going to start teaching our sons how to recognize when another human being is in pain? When are we going to teach them compassion? And when are we going to expect them to act on it?
• Release. I text one of my best friends a stream of consciousness about what I think of all this. She listens and understands. She offers her point of view. She suggests I write a blog post. I write a blog post. I feel a little better.

I should let you know that I'm not writing this for you. Yes, you reading this right now. I'm choosing to share this in case it helps people who have also been struggling with the weight of trauma, but ultimately I'm writing this for myself. I'm being honest with myself. And I'm writing it all down as a testament to how far I've come and a reminder of how far I have yet to go.

Thanks for reading anyway.

*I realize that the people posting about their experiences do not all identify as female and I would like to acknowledge the important role of nonbinary and gender nonconforming individuals in this movement as well.

An Open Letter to White Americans

It's been about a year and a half since I last posted on this blog. I put it to bed after college ended and have been happily living my life, blog free, until today. Today, two days after this historic election, I need to write again.

I am a white woman and I am speaking to my fellow white Americans:

I would like each and every one of you to look at yourself in the mirror tonight and say "I am racist."

Just see how it feels. Does it make you feel dirty? Does it make you laugh? Can you even do it?

We need to do it. We need to admit that we are not perfect and that sometimes, even if we have the best intentions, we fail to love those who are different from us. Only then can we begin a process of healing. Only then can we start to truly love our neighbors.

It doesn't feel good to be called racist. Most of us try to be good people and would never intentionally hurt someone. We think if we are racist then that means we are the lowest of the low. We think, "I'm not a bad person, so I can't be a racist."

I wish it were that simple, but we live in a country where our ancestors systematically murdered the ancestors of Native Americans and kept the ancestors of African Americans as slaves. We live in a country that almost tore itself apart over whether or not those slaves had rights as human beings. We live in a country that put Japanese Americans in prison camps during WWII. That's not something you get over quickly. These racial conflicts had a ripple effect that still touches us today, not just in our policies as a society, but on a personal level as well.

We know it's wrong to judge someone by the color of their skin. We're taught that from the time we're very small. But the people teaching us that "racism is wrong" are often the same people who, usually unintentionally, plant racist thoughts in our heads, in such minuscule ways and over such an extended period of time that we can't even hardly detect them.

But they're there. There are psychological tests (like the Implicit Association Test) that show that different types of people tend to be automatically perceived differently. It's not about intention. It's not about good vs. evil. It's a product of the environment we've grown up in as Americans.

I've taken the Black-White IAT. I've seen my results and there is a difference in the way I perceive black and white faces. I hate it. It feels like there's a monster living inside of me, and I just want it to get out of my head.

The good news is that when we recognize these cognitive biases within ourselves, we can begin to combat them. We can start to pick up on those moments when we feel uncomfortable around someone different from ourselves (whether it's a difference of race, gender, sexual orientation, etc.). We can look at those moments with a critical eye and start to peel back the layers of fear and misinformation. We can fight that monster, but only if we recognize that it's there.

It's an uncertain time for our country. There's a lot of anger and fear and blame being thrown around. As white Americans, we can no longer pretend that race issues aren't our problem. We have a responsibility to our nation and to our fellow man to prune away the thoughts and actions that make us ugly. It's not an easy road, but I hope that we will have the humility to shed light on the demons within ourselves, and the courage to fight those demons, one blow at a time.

Adulthood

Well, it's official. I've graduated from college, memorized my social security number, moved into my own apartment, secured a full time job, and paid my first bill. I am, without a doubt, an Adult.

So why am I sitting on my couch, eating frozen pizza and reading Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban?

Being an Adult (as opposed to an adult, which is just a person who is old enough to legally buy his or her own lottery tickets) is kind of scary. It's a bit like being in school, where I need to keep track of multiple ongoing projects and responsibilities, except I have no idea how to do any of the tasks I'm "assigned". I can write papers and take tests, but what is a 401(k)? How do I pay for electricity? What do you mean I have to squish that spider in the corner???

It can all be a bit overwhelming. That's where the pizza and books come in. Being an Adult, I can buy freeze pops and fruit snacks if I so choose. I can watch Disney movies and play stupid games on the computer. I can balance out the scary Adult stuff with the fun childish stuff and not step too far out of my comfort zone.

With that sentiment in mind, however, I do caution myself. I don't think there's anything wrong with eating the occasional freeze pop (and there's no way I'm ever going to stop enjoying the Harry Potter books), but I want to make sure that I only do those "childish" things because I truly enjoy them, not because I need to use them to escape from something. Adulthood can be scary, but dependence is scarier.

At this point, I have to thank my friends and family, who have been extremely supportive, encouraging, and helpful. Without their advice and answered texts, I would be pretty lost. They keep me grounded and set wonderful examples. I'm so thankful to have people in my life who make me feel loved and connected, even when I'm sitting alone in my one bedroom apartment.

I have a lot of friends who have just become Adults, too. It's so exciting to hear about all of their accomplishments and discuss jobs, living situations, and plans together. And I can't wait for my adult friends to join us in the chaos that is Adulthood. It feels like we're really living now, like we finally have our feet on the path toward making a name for ourselves. I can't wait to see where our paths lead us.

No, I don't have all of this Adult stuff figured out, but as I sit in my apartment, looking out the window at the trees swaying in the breeze and the ducks gliding across the water, with paperwork in my hand, I finally feel like this is what my life is supposed to be: living on my own, starting a job at an advertising agency, driving my car, and singing along with *NSYNC as I look for the first stars to show up in the night sky.

An Open Letter to My Mom on Mother's Day

Dear Mom,

You're awesome. You've always been my role model and friend. I can talk to you about anything and you give me the advice that I'm too afraid to give myself. Thank you.

To be honest, I always get a little anxious in the weeks leading up to Mother's Day. Homemade cards and poorly cooked meals aren't as impressive as they were when I was a kid. There are so many nice things I want to do and say, but I just don't know how. One of my friends put my feelings perfectly into words: "How do you love your mother back?"

How do you repay her for giving you life? For going through hours of labor and getting no sleep and cleaning up your messes and brushing your hair even when you don't want it brushed and dealing with your tantrums and getting you dressed and taking care of you when you're sick and buying you stupid toys that you love but she doesn't understand and listening to your favorite music on repeat for six hour car rides and planning birthday parties and helping you with your homework and listening to you practice an instrument that sounds like a dying cat and talking about boys and driving you to the mall and coming to your volleyball games and lending you her jewelry and letting you drive yourself to school and helping you pack your stuff in a way that you will never be able to duplicate and waiting for you to call her on the weekends because she knows your independence is important to you and coming to your concerts and listening patiently while you freak out about finding a job or a place to live and--? 

How do you return all that love in one day?

It's impossible. I could spend my whole life showering my mom with gifts and it still wouldn't be enough. The love a mother gives is selfless and unconditional, and it's meant to be passed on. Someday I will love someone the way my mom loves me. Then that person will love someone else the way I love them. That love goes back throughout history and will last well into the future. It binds us together.

I hope you know, mom, that I am always grateful for your love and support. I'm so glad we've had such a close relationship. It's been so fun to continue to get to know and understand you as I've grown older. Thanks for always knowing and understanding me.

Lots of love,

Liz

Nice Notes

Earlier this month, I celebrated my favorite holiday: Easter. During this time of year, I always get wrapped up in the fun of family time, candy, and traditions, but it's also always been a great time for me spiritually. Taking the 40 days of Lent to really reflect on my life and then letting it all go and celebrating on Easter is very therapeutic for me. This year, I decided to give myself a little exercise to prepare for the big celebration.

Every day, for 40 days, I wrote down at least one nice thing someone else did for me and at least one nice thing I did for someone else. I put all the scraps of paper in a jar and didn't read through them until after Easter. It's a pretty simple exercise, but it was surprisingly challenging and extremely rewarding.

At first, I found it difficult to go through a whole day and then try to remember the interactions I had with others. Some of the nice things that happened throughout the day were small moments that I often overlooked. As time progressed, however, I realized that most nice things happened in small doses. There were some days when I had big heart-to-heart conversations with people, but most days consisted of holding a door open for someone, picking up trash, or giving someone a few dollars.

Writing down these moments each day made me realize how important it is to be present in our lives. It's so easy to feel hopeless or cynical about the world, but if we open our eyes, there are beautiful and powerful relationships forming everywhere, even if they only last for 30 seconds.

Reading through these notes also had a second benefit that I didn't expect. They helped me to remember things I would have forgotten. They served as a mini journal, preserving a few details of each day that triggered memories of bigger events as well. It made me smile to remember things like getting lunch with friends, visiting with my parents, making new friends, traveling, giving and receiving compliments, going on dates, throwing parties, and doing all the other little things that filled the minutes in between. It's amazing how much can happen in 40 days!

Although I haven't continued writing nice things down since Lent ended, I do find myself noticing some of the little things on occasion. It has made me a happier person to be able to notice the good in the world. Maybe someday I'll start writing myself some nice notes again. Then, when I get stressed, I'll go back to my little jar and read through some of the things that made me smile.

Summer Camp Ain't Easy, Y'all

Almost two weeks ago, I returned from my spring break trip to Blackville, South Carolina. That week spent working and living with members of the community was like a surreal summer camp. Now that I've really had time to digest my experience, I can honestly say that, even though I didn't spend my time sunbathing on a beach, it was the best spring break of my life.

I got together with a group of 11 other students to "walk with the people of Blackville" as part of the Marquette Action Program (M.A.P). We were basically strangers when we started. We all have different majors, are in different grades and have different personalities and senses of humor. And we spent nine full days together, with probably 48 hours of that in a couple of vans!

Early on in the trip, we talked about what we wanted to do over the course of the week. One guy wanted us to take risks and another wanted for all of us to become so close that we could drop the niceties and get angry with each other if that's how we felt. They wanted an authentic experience, and they both got what they wished for. We bickered, we got frustrated, we pushed each other's buttons. But we also shared our stories with one another, stepped out of our comfort zones, opened up to one another, laughed together, supported one another and lifted one another up. I now have 11 amazing friends, all with different personalities and senses of humor, and we fit together like puzzle pieces.

Tossing the frisbee around at the end of a beautiful South Carolina day

In addition to connecting with my fellow travelers, I also connected with the people I met in Blackville. From day one, I felt welcome and cared for. My group arrived late after two long days of travel and we had a hot turkey dinner waiting for us (with stuffing, peas, pies and all manner of other delicious foods). We were fed like that for the whole trip, with different families, churches and other community members giving us sweet tea and fried chicken until we were ready to burst.

During those meals, I felt like I became a part of the community. Everyone came together in prayer before the meal started, and everyone was joking and laughing and exchanging stories by the time the meal ended. One of our group facilitators was famously nicknamed "Passion Fruit" by a reverend who ate with us, and the name stuck. We came away from those meals with enough inside jokes to last a lifetime.

I also got to visit a lot of people's homes in the area and work on household projects while they chatted with me. One woman had us call her "Ma'am" and didn't ask for our names because she admitted she would forget them, but she was one of the nicest people we met. I talked with her about her family while I raked leaves in her yard. Laughing, she relieved one of the guys from our group of his leaf blowing duties (he didn't quite have the knack for it) and joined us herself. It was great to get to know her and work with her.

I could tell a thousand stories like that: Raymond, patiently teaching us how to use power drills and pounding down the ends of screws that we drilled through to the other side of the wood; Vivian, making us laugh with her blunt words of wisdom and feisty spirit; Miriam, telling me with such sincerity that I'll do just fine with my degree and that I don't need to worry; Evelyn, driving us all over to teach us about the history of the area and find us a beach even though it was a cloudy day; and so many others, whose names I've kept in a notebook and in my heart, who made me smile and taught me how to be a better person.

I am so thankful that I had that week to learn and laugh and eat and spill paint on myself. I actually laughed in my sleep while I was there (which was a little creepy for my roommate--sorry Sarah), and I felt like I was smiling all the time. It was one of my best college experiences because it taught me that loving others ultimately brings about a sense of joy and peace that can't be found through any other means. I'll take that lesson with me wherever I go, along with this one: summer camp ain't easy, y'all (but it sure is worth it)!

Three Months to Graduation: Some Valentine's Day-Inspired Feels

About a month ago, I started my last semester of college--what?!?! Wasn't I a freshman like a month and a half ago? Time flies...

Looking back on my college career, I'm really quite happy with how much I've grown to get where I am right now in my life. I still don't have a for-sure job or a place to live yet, but recently I've learned to trust that good things will happen if you let them. I'm working hard, but I'm not nearly as stressed as I was when I wrote my last blog post a month ago.

I truly believe this last semester will be the best yet. I'm taking four classes, all of which I'm really enjoying. I'm finally in clubs that are more fun than burdensome. I'm singing and speaking Chinese and doing a lot of the things I should have been doing since the day I first stepped foot on this campus. I know what I want to do for my career. I'm more open about who I am and I'm more accepting of who other people are.

I think I've come a long way since the beginning of freshman year, but there are still a few things I want to accomplish before saying goodbye to the place I've called home for four years. Here's an abridged list of things I want to do before I graduate:

1. Eat at different restaurants. There are some restaurants I've discovered that are AMAZING and I keep going back to them, but I would like to branch out a little more. There's one restaurant in particular that people have been telling me to go to for years and I've never managed to make it there. This semester, I'll make it happen.

2. Mix up my "party scene." From the time I turned 21, I got to know most of the bars in the nearest vicinity (even though I don't drink), but I'd like to extend my reach a bit more and check out some of the other areas of the city. It'll be fun to explore some new atmospheres and meet some new people!

3. Land a job in my preferred field. This one is more for my post-grad days, but it's still in the forefront of my mind. That being said, although I have a great job right now, I want something that will challenge me to think in new ways. (I love consumer insights research and strategic planning, so if you now anyone who's hiring, let me know, will ya?)

4. Eat in all the dining halls one last time. Yes, a lot of the things I want to do before I graduate involve food. The dining halls represent much more than their less-than-exquisite cuisines, though. I met wonderful people in those places. I built friendships in those places. I flirted in those places. I embarrassed myself in those places (see what I did there?). I need one last hurrah in the dining halls before I can say goodbye.

5. Utilize more resources on campus. There are a lot of great groups that I've known about for awhile, but never really got involved with. I'd like to change that. I've found the more people I meet, the more I fall in love with this school and this city. The more stories I hear, the more proud I am of my own story as part of a larger one.

I want to leave this campus in love. In love with the people, in love with the places, in love with the little things and the silly memories. I want to leave loving who I was, who I am, and who I will be. I am so lucky to have received a fantastic education, but I am even more lucky to have learned how to really love. That love is one thing I will take with me wherever I go.

Writing in the Present

I had some trouble figuring out what to write for this post. I've been quite stressed about future stuff (finding a job, finding a place to live, etc.), but also about stuff from my past, like some of the choices I made to get me to this point. I wrote an entire blog post that I ended up deleting because it was just too depressing. Stressed writing, while therapeutic, is no fun to read. So I thought I'd take this opportunity to exercise my positivity muscles by "writing in the present".

It's so important to occasionally take some time to recognize the beauty of the here and now. Dwelling on the past or future too much does no one any good. By writing in the present, I'm going to be mindful of what's going on around me and appreciate the good things happening in my life at this very moment.

I'm sitting on my couch, listening to the thrum of the radiator behind me. It's gotten very cold lately, and I can see the snow making patterns on the rooftops outside. Some of the snow is making a t-rex shape (rad!) but the rest of it is just pretty swirly. It's been a quiet evening since I have the apartment to myself. I've been browsing the web and sending snapchats to friends as I hum songs from Into the Woods, which I saw recently with my parents.

Obviously, nothing all that groundbreaking is happening right now. I'm actually starting to get a little sleepy. I always do my best writing when I just begin to feel tired. There's something about being half awake that brings out my creativity. I've come up with some crazy ideas in the shower and designed whole clothing lines while waking up from a nap. But that's all in the past.

I just looked out my window. It's so peaceful outside. A lot of buildings are still covered in Christmas lights. The snow is blowing, making patterns where it was once soft and untouched. It feels good to cozy up inside and look out at the world.

I hope to have a healthy mind, body, and spirit for the coming year. I downloaded a yoga app on my phone (yes you read that right) and it's felt really good! I'm a little sore right now, but I like being able to hold my balance a little better than I used to, and I like feeling a little stronger. It's very calming as well. Moving in the present has very similar effects to writing in the present. It's a good way to stay mindful and centered.

I never thought I'd be a yoga person, but here I am writing "mindful and centered" in a serious sentence! I would recommend that everyone find something that makes them feel calm and more connected. It doesn't have to be yoga or writing; it can be taking a walk or baking or calling your mom. As long as you're taking a moment to realize that you're having a moment, you're doing something good for you. Isn't that what 2015 should be about?

(P.S. If you're interested, check out the FitStar Yoga App for iPhone and iPad.)

Girl Power

This post goes out to all the ladies in my life.

As the first semester of senior year is about to end, a lot of us are struggling to finish strong. With futures looming before us, we’ve had a lot of sleepless nights and caffeine-filled days dedicated to job interviews, grad school applications, group projects, part-time jobs, breakups, makeups, celebrations, and mental health days. We’ve laughed until our sides hurt and cried into our pillows. We’ve been angry and frustrated and fed up with it all. And through it all, we’ve been together.

It’s hard to figure out what you want to be. It’s taken me almost four years and I’m still not 100% sure it’ll stick. But it’s a lot harder to figure out who you want to be.

There are women in my life who are passionate activists, who fight tooth and nail for a better world. I am inspired (and occasionally a little scared) by them.

There are women in my life who wear their hearts on their sleeves, who feel deeply and express themselves in beautiful and terrible ways. I envy them.

There are women in my life who are fearlessly independent, who will go to new places and face challenges without batting an eye. I look up to them.

There are women in my life who are honest and loyal, who are always up for a chat and will tell you what you need to hear (even when you don’t want to hear it). I am thankful for them.

The best thing about being a woman is the camaraderie you have with all the other women in the world. We support each other, build one another up, laugh, cry, defend, protect. We do silly things and sometimes make mistakes. We are human. And together, we are fierce.

Knowing the women I know has helped shape the person I am and the person I want to be. They have helped me realize that I am an activist and an artist, an adventurer and a friend. And when I’m not those things, I know there are women out there who can be them for me.

Thanks to my girls for all you’ve taught me this semester. I cried while I wrote this. And I'm kind of proud of that.

The Perfectionist and the Sloth

This is my first time since starting this blog that I went longer than a month without posting. October was busy, with group projects, birthday celebrations, Halloween preparations, and networking events. I could have posted about the conference I went to early in the month, the PR+Social Media Summit. I listened to a ton of speakers and learned a lot about being a more effective communicator. I even ate lunch with one of the keynote speakers, Augie Ray, and talked about marketing, social media, careers, etc. But I didn't post about that.

I could have written about applying for a teaching job in China and getting turned down. I could have talked about how discouraging that was for me, but also how it opened up new possibilities for me. I've rearranged some things so that my eggs aren't all in one basket. I'm a lot less stressed in a weird way, even though I have a lot less certainty and a lot more work to do. But I didn't post about that, either.

Instead, I kept silent. I did my homework and marathoned a few (or more than a few) episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and turned 22 and spent time with my friends. I never consciously told myself I wouldn't post in October, but I'm kind of glad I didn't. It wasn't necessarily that I needed a break, but I did need a change in routine. I have a tendency to want rigid structure, but once I have it, I need to break free. This little disruption freaked me out at first, but now, even as I write, I realize how healthy it was.

The older I get, the more things I become involved in, the more I come to understand that life is not lived on a strict schedule. It's lived in those moments between the meetings and the classes. It's lived on the bus, in the coffee shop, walking down the street. I live in those seconds when I don't think about what I need to do or what someone else wants me to do. I live when I am just content in my own skin.

I recognize that responsibilities are important, and I've never been one to shirk them. I never will be. I love working toward a goal and meeting deadlines. I love the little adrenaline rush you get when you finish that project you've been working on so diligently. I love being there for people and having them count on me. But I also love breaking the rules sometimes. I love putting my necklace on backwards and sleeping in late.

I can be the rule follower and the rule breaker. I can be the perfectionist and the sloth. I can be stressed out and carefree. I can be all these things and more because life is too short not to be.

Maybe Advertising Isn't So Bad...

This is my senior year of college, and the anticipation of graduating has got me thinking about my future career and what I really want. I haven't been thrilled with public relations (my major) lately. In fact, I'm starting to lean toward advertising. When I came to college, I wanted to go into a field where I'd need to think creatively and really get to know people in order to communicate in the best way possible. I still want that. I just think that goal can be better achieved through advertising.

Don't worry. I'm not changing my major or anything. Luckily, PR and advertising degrees are pretty compatible. Plus, some of the best advertisers are those who come from different backgrounds. I really think the career for me is advertising research or account planning. It combines my passions for psychology and communication, and wraps it all in a dynamic environment with the opportunity to make a real difference. Advertising is powerful and if I don't like the way it's being done now, maybe it's time I stood up and did something to change it.

The classes I've been taking this semester have been really inspiring in this regard. For the rest of this post, I'd like to share something I wrote for my International Ad/PR class about advertising in Sweden. I'm always looking to expand my knowledge of the world and its various cultures (I mean, I'll be teaching English in China after I graduate!), so this class has already been valuable to me. I'm so excited to use my remaining time in school to prepare me for what I hope will be a worthwhile future.

Mirror Mirror: Sweden is the Fairest of All

Last week, I saw a presentation by Hedvig Hagwall Bruckner, a copywriter at King, a small independent advertising agency based in Sweden. Her insights into Swedish culture and advertising were fascinating. The country’s love of equality permeates almost every aspect of its advertising. Since advertising reflects (and even shapes) culture, the advertisements produced by King speak to the broader cultural climate of Sweden and may even be propelling it into the future at this very moment.

Because equality is such a high ideal in Sweden, many tactics that other countries use in advertising are not effective with Swedish consumers. For example, celebrity endorsement is widely used in America, but rarely used in Sweden because the people there do not hold authority in high regard. Celebrities can be used in a humorous way, as long as they are not perceived as having a higher status than other people.

Equality and a lack of fear of authority lend themselves to another important practice in Swedish advertising: breaking taboos. It seems that Swedish ads push each other to include more controversial characters or concepts (without going so far as to become offensive—sexism is a big no-no, for example). They keep a light-hearted tone while addressing issues like LGBTQ+ rights, feminism and the empowerment of people with disabilities, to name a few.

With innovative ads like ICA’s 300+ episode “soap opera” and Com Hem’s Judit and Judit series, Swedish advertisers have created a mirror to reflect some of the most prominent aspects and values of their culture. And as a small country, Sweden’s values are particularly solid. It is not as easy to segment demographic groups in Sweden as it is in, say, China or the U.S. Therefore, ads must speak to the concepts that everyone in Sweden holds dear, such as humor, feminine attitudes, togetherness, fairness and, of course, equality.

Learning from Hedvig really opened my eyes to how great advertising can be. Looking at it from an American perspective, I see a lot of disconnects between my culture’s values and my culture’s advertisements, where those holes do not seem to exist in Sweden. I have a lot of respect for a country that practices what it preaches, and Sweden seems to do just that. Perhaps I should start packing my bags!

Don’t get me wrong; I think American advertising has come a long way. Seeing ads like the Cheerios commercial featuring a biracial family or the Honey Maid “This Is Wholesome” campaign gives me a lot of hope for the future. However, it seems like Swedish ads are leagues ahead in the social responsibility department. It’s interesting because equality is a common value to both America and Sweden, but their ads (and the reactions to those ads) are very different. What is the explanation?

As I alluded to before, there is a disconnect between what America practices and what it preaches. Equality and freedom are concepts included in everything from the Constitution to the arguments of political pundits on major television networks, but American ads tend to lean toward concepts like sexism and racial stereotypes. Many times, they don’t include certain groups of people at all. Americans say they value equality, but there is an undercurrent in the culture that disrupts its flow into advertising.

In Sweden, that undercurrent doesn’t exist. The values they share are ingrained their culture and are reflected in their advertising. They break taboos because it is a part of who they are (and, it turns out, it’s a pretty good business strategy).

To create awesome ads is to take the awesome parts of a culture and make them even more awesome. It means reflecting the culture, but also pushing it forward to create something even better. Sweden is getting it right, but even Swedish advertisers can continue to push the envelope. American advertisers can produce great work, too. The key is for advertisers to realize the power that they wield, and to use it for the betterment of the larger society.

When looking at our own cultures, what do we see in the mirror? Who really is the fairest one of all?

Liz Meets World

I just got back from my trip to Italy and Ireland, and while I'm pretty jet-lagged, I want to share some highlights. I could write about exploring the Italian alps, eating authentic gelato, climbing the tallest cliffs in Europe, or helping my dad navigate the narrow and winding Irish roads; I could post hundreds of pictures of gorgeous landscapes, details of foreign plants, or selfies in front of various historical and natural settings; but instead, I'd like to describe my experiences through a more human lens. One of the best things about traveling to a different country is getting to know a different culture, and a country's culture is expressed by the people who live there. To describe my journey, I need to describe the people I met along the way, because they flavored the places and events with a sweet realness that lets me know it wasn't all just a dream.

The Japanese Tourists asked me to take their picture shortly after I arrived in Alleghe, Italy. After navigating the Madrid airport using half-remembered high school Spanish and trying to communicate with Italians using the only three Italian words I knew, it was nice to know I wasn't the only tourist in town. Interacting with the Japanese group made me realize that communication goes beyond words (although I was upset that I didn't know how to say "You're welcome" in Japanese).

My New Family welcomed me and my existing family with open arms. Even though we didn't speak the same language, my sister's new husband's relatives treated me like one of their own. From learning some Italian words to swapping stories via hand motions to shouting "Viva gli sposi!" as the guests rang a cowbell, my sister's wedding was a true melding of families. I'm so thankful for all the translating, planning, and patience it took to bring us together.

The Italian Fisherman barely spoke any English, but somehow managed to point my parents and me to the right path that went around the town lake. When he passed us on the road in his car a few minutes later, he offered us a ride (which we politely refused, since we wanted to stretch our legs). We were complete strangers, but he wanted to help us just the same. I was extremely moved by his act of kindness.

The Woman from Barcelona loved Ireland. We met her outside the caves of Maghera, where she told us how beautiful she thought everything was. "Why would anyone go anywhere else?" she would ask, marveling at the scenery before her. We happened to see her again a few days later in a different town, where she told us about a beautiful little place that we might enjoy because we like "crazy things". That place was Maghery, which boasted fascinating historical sites and spectacular views. Ireland was this woman's passion, and she never steered us wrong!

The Boat Captain was a classic Irishman, born and raised by the sea. Although a little rough around the edges, he was a happy-go-lucky sort of fellow, even when he had to take us fishing one evening in the rain. He knew everything: where the fish were, where the currents would take us, where my mom should be placed so she wouldn't fall overboard. He, along with his friend and the two young men who fished with us, turned that gloomy day into one of the most exciting fishing trips I've ever been on.

The Librarian spoke with a British accent and helped my mom and I start our search for our family history. We didn't know what to expect when we entered the library in Letterkenny to inquire about Edward and Annie Coyle, my great-great grandparents, but we came away with some good clues and leads to find out more, thanks to the librarian who saw the importance in uncovering one's past and helped us get closer to reaching our goals.

The Professor was a charming man we enlisted for help in learning more about the history of the Ardara area. After a few failed attempts at getting the answers to all my dad's questions, we went to the house next to the grocery store and knocked on the door. A grocery store employee told us the man would probably be in his garden and went back to get him for us. The professor came out, red-cheeked and white-haired, and actually bid us come into his home to sit and chat for a bit. He had never met us before, but he was as hospitable as if his own family were calling on him. Later that day, we paid him another visit and he showed us his garden. My dad still didn't get all the answers he wanted, but it was worth it to meet such a welcoming person.

The Tour Guides were a couple who had been living in Ardara for a little over two years, but were originally from Dublin. They led a walk around the town to talk about Irish history and some of the main attractions of the area. It had been raining that morning, however, and my parents and I were the only ones who joined their walk. It was an absolute blast! We all got to know each other and learned from each other. They pointed us to an ancient monolith just outside town, and we told them a bit about America. After that, it was as if we were old friends, waving to one another as we drove by.

And last, but certainly not least...

Our Hosts were some of the hardest working people I've ever met. In addition to running a bed and breakfast and working other jobs, they are raising four children under the age of nine. After spending ten days eating their home-cooked breakfasts, asking every question we could think of, and playing "Monkey in the Middle" with the kids, we felt like part of the family. It's one thing to have someone point you in the direction of a good scenic spot; it's another to have someone ask how your day went afterwards, to laugh with you, to really get to know you. I could not have asked for a better place to stay, or better people to stay with. I miss the kids already! Spunky, quiet, mischievous, and sweet: they were the cherry on top of the cake.

There are so many other people who made this trip amazing, but it's too hard to write about them all. A big thank you goes to my parents, for being great travel companions and making this trip possible for me. I feel so honored to have crossed paths with so many kind, warm people from across the globe. It makes the world seem a little less big and scary. You can find home anywhere, as long as you can exchange a smile with whomever you meet.

And don't worry, I'll be posting my photos to Facebook soon!

Pre-Europe Excitement

In less than 24 hours, I will be on my way to Italy for my sister's wedding! I can't believe it's happening: my first trip outside of the United States. I'll get to explore Italy and Ireland for a couple weeks. I'm incredibly lucky!

I haven't traveled on a plane since I flew to Washington, D.C. to see President Obama's inauguration in 2009. Five and a half years later, I feel as excited as I did back then! Airports are annoying, but there's something about being in the air that makes me feel alive and whole. I want to embrace every part of this trip, both journey and destination.

I have been suffering from severe wanderlust for about a year, probably because of all the stories I've heard from my friends who have studied abroad. I've taken classes about different cultures as well, adding fuel to the fire. To be able to see a new part of the world at this time in my life is an indescribable blessing. I'm actually having trouble putting into words how much this trip means to me.

The experience of traveling is exciting in itself, but I am also looking forward to the family aspect of the trip. A wedding brings people together in a way nothing else can. In Italy, I'll get to spend time with some of my own relatives that I haven't seen in quite awhile, and I'll also get to witness two families merging as my sister and her awesome fiance start their life together. In Ireland, I'll be going to the county where my great-great grandparents lived. I can't wait to walk where they walked. What's more, I get to do it all with my parents, which means it's sure to be an adventure!

These are the moments when life happens, and I intend to live it fully. I hope to come back with lots of pictures, some fun memories, and maybe a new perspective. With all the possibilities ahead of me, it'll be a wonder if I can sleep tonight!

Farmers' Markets, Food Trucks & Festivals

It's summer in Milwaukee, and you know what that means: farmers' markets, food trucks, and festivals! I love being here when the city comes to life. There are so many interesting people to meet and fun events to go to. This year, I'm trying to balance activities in the city and outside of it. Since it's possibly my last summer in Milwaukee (because who knows what I'll be doing after I graduate?), I want to soak up everything this area of Wisconsin has to offer.

I love being outside, so one of my favorite summer activities is hiking. Wisconsin has some beautiful state parks, many of which aren't too far from the city. It's nice to be able to spend a Saturday afternoon in a quiet and peaceful atmosphere after braving the hectic Summerfest grounds the night before. So far, I've been to Havenwoods and Kettle Moraine, but I'd like to check out new places as the summer goes on.

I've been enjoying buying produce from local farmers and making my own semi-healthy food. It's always fun to experiment with fresh ingredients to create new dishes, even if I decide not to make them again. I'm not the best cook, but I like the creative problem solving that has to occur when your green beans are almost at the point of over-ripeness.

A different kind of creativity manifests itself in the many concerts and festivals that Milwaukee hosts. Jazz in the Park and River Rhythms are some of my favorites, but nothing tops Summerfest. The crowds of people, the music blending together from the different stages, and the smells wafting off the food trucks make the experience both overwhelming and exhilarating.

This year, I saw my first Summerfest amphitheater show: Lady Gaga. It was one of the best concerts I've been to, and I'm not even a hardcore Little Monster. I was far from the stage, but I could see just about everything because I was above it all. It was almost a surreal experience gazing down at the tiny figure dancing in a bright green wig among set pieces and backup dancers that looked like they belonged on another planet. The music was great, I had room to dance and sing along, and the giant screens showed the details that I otherwise would have missed. I left the amphitheater completely energized (and fell asleep almost the moment I got home).

It's fun finding the balance between the city life I've spent three years getting used to and the outdoorsy life I've always loved. There are so many interesting and beautiful places in the world with all kinds of things to do. We often feel that we have to travel far away to find those places, but some of them can be found right in our own back yard!

Passing the Torch

Junior year is over. It's summer, and I'll be starting my senior year of college in the fall. Although it seems like freshman year was just last week, I'm slowly coming to the realization that I'm an upperclassman and I'll have to leave some of my projects to other people.

I've already started the process of passing the torch. At the end of the semester, I decided not to run again for the executive board of the environmental club on campus. I was the public relations coordinator, so I ran the club's social media, designed the website, and planned events. It was a good experience and I became a lot closer with the other members, but I realized I was too busy to do the position justice. Someone with more time and energy to dedicate will be able to do a better job. I struggled with that realization this past semester and have finally been able to accept it. I'll be more than happy to help from the sidelines if and when I'm needed.

Since classes ended, I've taken on more hours at work, so I've been taking on more responsibilities. One of the most recent challenges has been working with interns. Since I have about nine months of experience with the agency, I get to train interns to do some of the more basic tasks involved with the job. It's fun, but difficult to be responsible for keeping interns busy in addition to my own work.

Growing older is an interesting experience. I have to think more creatively to manage more responsibilities, but I also have to learn to let go. Working in the professional world isn't just about the using skills you accumulate as an individual; it's about using those skills in conjunction with other people. It's about knowing your strengths and weaknesses, and knowing when to ask for help or when to ask for more to do. I'm really enjoying flexing my muscles and testing the boundaries of my professional life. I hope I can do the same in other areas of my life as well.

Initiation

With the semester coming to a close, everyone is pretty busy with projects, papers and tests, and I am certainly no exception! Between my clubs, friends, work and school, I'm amazed I still find the time to sleep and eat. Even with my busy schedule, I recently joined an honor society on campus, Kappa Tau Alpha.

I had never considered joining an honor society in college and had never heard of KTA when I received an email from my college telling me that, because I ranked in the top 10 percent of students in my class in the College of Communication, I was eligible to join. I'll admit, I decided to pay the $30 to join mainly because there were no meetings and I could put it on a resume. When I went to the initiation, however, I saw the real value in joining KTA. 

After having a nice chat with the chapter adviser about China (I always seem to find someone who's been there), a few classmates and I were given our certificates and keys. It was a very simple ceremony, but the chapter adviser emphasized intellectual pursuits as he told us what the honor society was about. He told us to never stop seeking knowledge and to keep an open mind. He asserted that Kappa Tau Alpha was about more than just professional success; it was also about succeeding intellectually. 

That advice could not have come at a better time for me. I've been stressed lately about not having the "right" goals or dreams, that I'm not ambitious enough or that the talents I've been blessed with will end up as wasted potential because I'm not looking for the most prestigious job that will offer me the most money or fame. I needed to hear that simply wanting to know more, to keep learning, is a valid goal. Obviously, I want to have a successful professional life, but that's not the only thing I'm going to work toward. I'd like to take a balanced, holistic approach to living my life. 

Yes, I'm busy. We all are. But I'm happy to spread out my time among many pursuits instead of focusing on just one passion. I'm glad that I like the environment and music and foreign languages and Jesus and fashion and photography. So I'm going to spend my life soaking up as much as I can about everything that interests me, because the world has so much more to offer than just a nice paycheck. 

Going Green with a Little Help from My Friends

I'd like to start off by thanking everyone for responding so well to my last post. I received nothing but positivity and support, and it made me feel incredibly loved. Some people could personally relate to my experiences or had friends who did. I know now that I am certainly not alone. None of us are.

Sharing experiences and working with other people is a major part of life. It gives us confidence and helps us to move forward together. Recently, I was privileged enough to work with other students at my university to take the first step toward making a big change on campus.

As one of the leaders of Students for an Environmentally Active Campus (SEAC), the environmental club at Marquette, I've been working on an initiative to get the university to stop selling disposable plastic water bottles (since they're bad for our health, our wallets, and our planet--more on that here). SEAC has been working hard to raise awareness and collect signatures to show support for the Take Back the Tap campaign.

As part of the campaign, we've been working on getting water bottle refilling stations installed around campus to encourage the use of reusable personal water bottles. At first, progress was slow and I began to feel discouraged, but the other SEAC members energized me with their fresh ideas and passion.

We came into contact with some of the senators in student government and started a partnership to get legislation for refilling stations to pass. It was an intense few weeks and both SEAC members and the senators worked extremely hard. After countless hours of researching, sending emails, writing, and practicing, I was one of four SEAC representatives to present to the entire student senate. After watching the debate the followed, I got to witness the voting process as well as the result: the bill passed at a vote of 26-4.

I was never prouder to be a member of SEAC (which I've been involved in for three years) than at that moment. The collaboration, mutual support, and reaching out beyond our own members resulted in something that will hopefully outlast the current students at Marquette. It was exciting to work together toward a common goal, because our collective voice was much stronger than any of us would have been alone.

Recognizing the talents in yourself is extremely important, but it's also beneficial to recognize the talents in others. Building relationships to accomplish things elevates each individual and creates something new. Why not go out and make a few friends?

Warning: This Will Be a Long Read

I've been going back and forth for weeks on whether or not to post this and, after making probably hundreds of edits, finally got the courage to just go for it. It’s not too often that I feel the tendril-like fingers of prejudice wrapping around me, but it does happen. And it hurts. Whether for reasons of race, sex, religion, sexual orientation, or other characteristics of a person, treating someone as an outsider only hurts everyone involved. This post is meant to be a lighthearted example to get people to consider what prejudice really is and how it can creep into our lives without our awareness. We are not immune from feeling prejudice against us, and we are not immune from dishing it out. But we can change that if we train ourselves to see and hear the little things that bring people down, and instead build one another up, brick by brick.

Solving Sobriety

I’m a 21-year-old college student living in Wisconsin. I go to bars almost every weekend. I party with my friends. I’ve danced on tables and sang karaoke at the top of my lungs. Oh yeah, and I don’t drink any alcohol.

There’s a certain stereotype that goes with a chronic non-drinker. We all know what it is: dull, party-pooper, judgmental, fearful, great at holding your hair back when you’re about to puke, etc. I’m here to shed some light on the subject by offering a few tips on how to navigate some simple interactions with us pesky sober folks.

“Wait, you haven’t been drinking?”

The first moment you realize a friend doesn’t drink is a special one. This is the crucial moment when you will either come off as awesome or annoying. If you laugh about the fact that your friend can be that crazy without being drunk and then go back to your activities, you’re in the clear. If you get all weird and start treating your friend like a completely different person, however, you’re entering dangerous waters.

“No judgment, but…”

Stop. Just leave this phrase out of your vernacular when you’re talking to a sober person. If you have to clarify that you’re not judging, whatever you say next is going to sound even more judgmental. Just speak your mind and deal with the judgment issues later.

“…Why don’t you drink?”

This usually follows the “No judgment, but” clause. It’s a perfectly acceptable question if you’re genuinely curious, but please don’t expect an elaborate story about a drinking binge gone wrong that turned me off the stuff. My reasons aren’t that interesting. Let’s turn the tables. If a sober person came up to you and asked, “Why do you drink?” you would probably think it’s an odd question at best and an offensive one at worst. You might answer, in the simplest terms, “Because I like to and I want to.” A sober person’s answer is similar: “I don’t drink because I don’t like to and I don’t want to.” That person owes you no more explanation than that.

“Is it cool if I drink?”

Nope. We all must do the exact same thing in the exact same way if we are to hang out together. Seriously? No one actually thinks like that! I’ll do me, you do you. We’re cool.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

You weren’t until you asked that question.

 “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

I’m so glad you asked! All these years of not drinking could have been prevented if only someone had offered me a jager bomb a second time! Honestly, I’m a big girl. If I magically decide that I want to start drinking, I will go up to the bar and get myself a drink. No need to hold my hand.

If these examples seem rather negative, don’t worry. There is one sure-fire way to have an awesome time with Sober Sally: treat her like a person. If she weren’t having a blast, she would leave. Have fun together. Include her in your shenanigans. Convince her to do that ridiculous impression she’s so good at. She wants to fit in and let loose. Let her do that. Don’t reduce her to a stuffy wallflower and don’t turn her into a circus freak. She is your friend and will be whether either of you is drunk or sober.

I should point out that not all non-drinkers are the same. Some are more confident in their choices than others, and some aren’t as touchy about the subject as others. Many comments like the ones above are not made with bad intentions and sober people can usually see that, but it’s best to err on the side of caution. My suggestion is just to respect their choices and enjoy their company.

Here’s the thing: if you think wine is the nectar of the gods, drink it (provided you’re of legal age of course!); if you are taking sips of beer and wincing when your friends look away because it tastes so bad, stop drinking it. If your friends are cool people, they will accept your choices, whatever they are (that goes beyond the realm of drinking and not drinking, by the way).

So I’ll raise my glass of Sprite and you raise your glass of cranberry and vodka, and we’ll toast to doing whatever makes us happy. Cheers!