Why Edinburgh?

I've been asked pretty consistently over the past 2.5 years the same question: Why did I study abroad for university? And more importantly, why did I choose Edinburgh?

I never answer the question the same way and I've never really felt like I had the right answer. To be honest, it was a bit of a spontaneous decision to consider leaving the U.S. I never even thought it was an option. But a girl next to me during one of my classes junior year told me about her "college touring" trip -- all over Scotland. It sounded incredible. Top that off with the lower cost of attendance, and I was hooked. It seemed so much more glamorous, so much more foreign and adult, than U.S. colleges.

I wanted to go to England: LSE or Oxford or Cambridge. But the standardized testing requirements they set for international students were insane and I would have needed to spend another year in high school just to take the tests I needed to. So, Scotland was runner up. Honestly, I literally just Googled "good universities for politics in Scotland." Edinburgh came up alongside St. Andrews. And I really didn't do much research besides that...something I now regret. When I was accepted unconditionally to both, and received my acceptances (and most importantly, financial aid packages) from U.S. schools, it came time to decide: Edinburgh or UMass, right in my hometown?

I had two choices. Take a risk or stay where I knew I was happy? Leave everyone I know or go where I have a lot of friends? I realized that if I went to Edinburgh and I didn't like it, I could always transfer back to UMass easily. But, if I went to UMass and didn't like it, I couldn't go back to Edinburgh.

So, that's why I chose Edinburgh: because why not and I have a backup plan if it sucks. Not a great story. No, I don't have family there, and I don't have any Scottish heritage. I'm not especially interested in UK politics. I have no plans to live or work in the UK after graduation. To a lot of people, it doesn't really make sense for me to be there.

I'll often say that one of the reasons I wanted to leave the U.S. for university is so that I could leave the Americentric bubble of politics. Which is sort of true, and sounds nice for small-talk. But all that happened was I moved from an Americentric bubble to a Anglocentric one: the diversity that I expected to find was basically non-existent.

Another reason I'll sometimes throw in there is that I wanted to have the opportunity to travel, something which is much more accessible when you're already in Europe. And I have, which has been great: from the Scottish Highlands to Dublin to Vienna to Istanbul, and lots in between. But even though travel is cheaper, on a student budget it is very, very difficult. 

More on why I don't like the University of Edinburgh (and a few reasons why I do!) coming soon....

post, post-11/13 thoughts

It's been just about a month since the attacks, and I've bounced back from where I was the last time I posted -- back to my overly-optimistic and at times naive self. I'm still quite cautious, jumping at loud noises or shrieks, and the constant sight of military personnel with large guns in the streets of Paris has been both reassuring and an unpleasant reminder. I've been staying in touch with many of the participants from Women2Women Belgium, who have been dealing with their own difficult situation in Brussels and beyond, and learning about the steps that they are taking to change their own communities, be it in education, philanthropy, or waste management. It can often be overwhelming to me to hear all the time about horrible people doing horrible things, an often unavoidable topic in the study of international relations. I think it's important that I work to focus equally on the people that are doing amazing things all over the world. I truly believe that the good outweighs the evil; just, sometimes, it gets a little hard to remember. I struggled a lot to find the goodness in people following the attacks, but I am lucky to know so many people who are doing life-changing things that it didn't last too long.

I've just returned from Paris back to Amherst, and now Maine, and am happily back in the throes of small-town life. The online debates about politics, welfare, social services still continue, though, and it's getting hard not to get disheartened or emotional about every insensitive comment made.

I babysit for a French family in Paris, and one day the father and I were talking about American politics versus French politics. He said that while he disagreed with many of the things Donald Trump said, he appreciated the fact that Trump's candor highlighted the true freedom of speech that exists in America. While Trump's statements are deliberately inflammatory, it starts off a discussion of real issues that are not restricted by political correctness. Conversely, in France, he believes that there is a real limitation of what is acceptable to be discussed and what is not. He says that because of these norms, there is not real freedom of speech. I thought that this was a really interesting perspective that I hadn't considered. So now, when I hear about Trump's daily antics, I try to focus on that importance of freedom of speech and push myself to consider the heart of the issues and disagreements instead immediately reacting emotionally. (Though it is hard sometimes to consider the opposite perspective -- for instance, 6 out of 10 GOP supporters agree with the ban on accepting Muslims into the US. Tell me again how that solves the current issue of extremism?)

All in all, the past year has been a very interesting time to be living internationally, studying politics, and really living the hot-button issues: from the 2014 Scottish referendum, to the refugee crisis at local camps in Paris and in the heart of Vienna, to the extremism seen in November. I feel very fortunate to be experiencing these controversies first-hand, to have my ideas consistently challenged, and to able to begin to understand these issues in a practical and realistic setting -- not just in a textbook. I am unmistakably lucky to have the education and support system that I do in order to process and reflect on these experiences.