I spent a semester in Chicago and all I wrote was this blog post

(Let’s collectively ignore the fact that I haven’t posted anything since December of 2020 🙃) As some of you most likely know, I spent the spring semester of my Junior year participating in a study away program in Chicago. I took three in-person classes (and one online) and worked remotely and in person at an internship site four days a week.

Four months have passed since I first wrote this post, and even though my time in Chicago is over (for now, at least), I think it’s fun to look back into the mindset I had at the end of my first month there.

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My internship this semester is at the Field Museum, under the Exhibition Development team. While I’ve only been in person four times in the last few weeks, it’s hands-down one of the coolest work environments I’ve experienced. There’s nothing like walking past the same five ancient artifacts while trying to figure out if the staircase you’re on is the one you’re looking at on the map, right? (Not speaking from experience, of course.)

I have to wake up earlier than I’m accustomed to in order to have time for my commute. However, I’ve become strangely content with waking up early in the morning and getting out when the sun is barely up. I’m sure its novelty will wear off in a few weeks—when my hands are permanently chapped from the cold, and I’m in constant rotation between the three truly warm outfits that I have—but right now, every morning feels so full.

Monday morning, as I was walking to work (between the red line and the 146 bus), fat snowflakes were falling, and my mask was more than slightly damp against my face. But waiting for my bus, I saw people moving to and fro—disaffected teenagers sitting in passenger seats on their way to school, huddled forms crossing traffic long before I deemed it possible, and the intricate dance between a man clearing the sidewalk with a snow blower and the multitude of cars that were already caked in snow but trying to avoid a second coating. Even though I didn’t know any of these people—for most of them, I never even saw their faces—there’s something so endearingly human about the bustle of a Monday morning. Something that’s difficult to see when you’re stuck living whatever Monday you’ve lived a hundred times before.

A few years ago, I read a blog post from one of my favorite authors, Maggie Stiefvater, where she was talking about time and the way we feel it passing. In a much more poetic, witty way, she described how when we’re kids, time passes SO SLOWLY. Christmas and birthdays feel so long away that we try to celebrate them halfway through the year because we’re so impatient. But as we get older, time seems to speed up—even though we know that, logically, nothing has changed. Stiefvater explained that time seems to pass slower when we’re young because we’re constantly experiencing new things and gaining new skills, but this process happens less the longer we live. All of this to say, a new experience—a new city, a new job—sets the clock back a bit. Time may be moving fast, but a morning in Chicago feels eternal.

(Additionally, any given morning in Chicago is a chance to find frozen groceries at the bus stop. I guess they’ll keep well??)

That concludes my first month experience in Chicago, but let me know if you’re interested in hearing about more of my time there!