I should be reading…

… but since I got on the plane to come back to Canada I’ve been strangely disenchanted with school. I ended my stay at CCIDD with high hopes for my reporting and activism, and knew it was important for me to continue to work hard so I can achieve the goals I’d set.

It killed me, though, to open up a coursepack and read a vague, poorly constructed article for my Latin American Politics class. It was written in 1993 (the last time I checked, that was 16 years ago) and talked about a big, bright future for Mexico with Vicente Fox as a presidential prospect.

For your information, Vicente Fox was in power one president ago — and he wasn’t awesome. Thanks.

I had just lived and breathed first-hand experiences more timely and relevant than something my well-educated professor was presenting to me as “timely and relevant.” I hope it’s obvious why I was less than excited.

Right now I’m admittedly frustrated with my classes and the types of discussions happening around me. I am not pleased with many media standards and practices.

I miss hope and faith and a touch of idealism. Those things have always been a part of me but Mexico let me feel like they could have a home in the worlds of politics and journalism.

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Never have I felt more compelled to talk to people, to influence opinion in the most constructive ways possible. I just might have to get a bit crafty.
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I don’t want to sound like I could have stayed at CCIDD or that school is wasting my time. I needed to come home to put my learning into action. I needed to come home to equip myself for future development work. It’s times like this, though — the times when I’m up a little too late avoiding my assignments — when I need to keep those things than inspire me right at my fingertips.

My ASB friends helped me re-discover who I am. Before I get lost in the papers and textbooks piling up around me, I should keep this little “I am” poem on hand. It’s hardly stellar by poetic standards, but we all had to write one as part of our reflection process:

I am a storyteller
and I talk too much.

I am curious
and I ask too many questions.

I am an artist
and I paint too many pictures.

I am an explorer
and there is no such thing
as too many adventures.

This is actually who I am — and I hope my craziness lets me somehow make the most of this time in my life.

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Valentine’s Day in Cuernavaca.
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