Smith Fellowship to Argentina (2026)

 

           "Give it four days," our desert guides Chris and CC said. "Thats the magic number, we don't know why, but it is." I decided that I would live by that here. After 4 days, you get used to the tempature, the sleep schedule, the food. Reality sinks in and you understand that you are here to stay. I have already lost track of what day it is, but I know that I have actually had the opportunity to teach for more than 4 days now. My camera roll is now littered with videos of me teaching "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes," "If you're happy and you know it," and other songs. Photos of students beaming from ear to ear, a recent trip to the affulent downtown, and some photos of the garden in the court yard.       My stomach has begun to adjust to the different meal times. A normal day of eating used to be a large breakfast around 9, lunch at noon, and dinner around 6, with some snacks scattered throughout the day. Here however, "brea...

On the Plane from Panama to Rosario: My parents raised my siblings and me to be good conversationalists: to ask questions, make eye contact, and be empathetic. It wasn’t hard with me; I was naturally curious and observant, with an extremely sensitive disposition and a boisterous love of everyone I encountered. I therefore took a genuine interest in each person I interacted with, and after every conversation, I walked away knowing something more: about the person, a topic they were passionate about, or even myself. But somewhere along the line, urgency and use replaced presence. I began to subconsciously ask, “What can I get out of this conversation?” rather than, “What are this person’s needs, and what do they long to share?” My mother also raised us to be polite and social, convenient masks which concealed the truth of my situation. I had become—like an overwhelming share of my generation—lonely, disconnected, and hurried. Every conversation was a stepping block, every piece of inform...