Baby Weight

Disclaimer: I feel compelled to note that I don’t want or need anyone to reassure me about how I look or feel. The following is simply part of this fascinating pregnancy experience that I wanted to share.

If you’ve ever had an unhealthy relationship with food or weight (I know it can’t just be me, right?), falling pregnant carries a whole lot of scary realities. My history with food, health, weight, and body image is long and complicated. Suffice it to say that I firmly believed carbohydrates were evil from about the tenth grade. I was also convinced that the only way I could lose weight was to completely eliminate carbs. Would you like to know what’s completely unsustainable and utterly depressing? A life without bread.

My beliefs about food and my body were incompatible with living any kind of balanced, normal, social life, which led to a relentless cycle of short-term weight loss, cementing my self-worth to a number on the scale, an inevitable binging on all things hot, salty, and carb-laden, immense guilt and disgust with my failure, and an ensuing weight gain. It seemed that each time I repeated this cycle I gained a little more, until I found myself morbidly obese and unable to fully participate in my life.

I could write an entire book about my journey out of that dark place, but that’s not really what I want to focus on here. The really happy part of this story is that beginning in March of 2016, Donnie and I made a series of changes in the way we ate, exercised (as in, we started actually exercising), and the way we thought about and spoke about ourselves. If you are interested in the ins and outs of what that entailed, I would be happy to share with you outside of this post. We have continuously and successfully lived our new lifestyle for eighteen months, and the ways life has changed for us are honestly unbelievable. One of the amazing changes for me was the ability to get pregnant at all, which was generally impossible before.

After adjusting to the shock of finding myself with a little one on board, I realized that being pregnant meant I was going to gain weight. I have steadily lost weight and focused on my health and fitness for well over a year, so the thought of reversing that pattern immediately sent me into a tailspin. I became obsessed with my weight, a habit I had finally broken after years of obsession, and thoughts of the food I consumed swirled around my head all day. What harm am I doing my baby by eating this muffin? Am I dooming my baby to a lifetime of struggling with her weight because I’m still overweight? Was it reckless to even let myself become pregnant? Add in the terrifying message boards and internet articles I was seeking out, and I kind of lost it.

The reality is that while I am still technically overweight, I am a very healthy person. I walk between five and eight kilometers (3 to 5ish miles) almost every day and exercise four to five days a week. I eat a balanced diet full of protein and veggies and complex carbs (and the occasional Dairy Milk bar because life is fun). My blood pressure is appropriately low, my cholesterol is where it should be, my thyroid function is normal, my blood sugar is regulated. I’ve been living an intentionally health-focused life for quite a while, and the benefits are evident. I honestly don’t say any of this to try to make myself sound good, but more so to reassure myself that I’m going to be ok. Nineteen weeks in and I have a very normal, very healthy baby who is growing appropriately. Just because my BMI is still in a certain category does not mean I am incapable of being a good mother. That sentence may sound ridiculous to anyone who has never struggled with these issues, but it’s something I have to actively choose to believe every single day.

I still struggle with my food choices and my intense desire to limit my food intake. As I’m starting to really “show” (there’s an undeniable bump happening these days) I vacillate between intense excitement that a growing baby brings and disgust and fear with my reflection in the mirror. I constantly wonder if a passing stranger thinks “aw, pregnant” or “gross, fat.” (I realize it really doesn’t matter what a random stranger thinks, and most people probably don’t even notice or think either of these things, but these are the crazy places my brain goes on the reg.) Some days my guilt over feeding my increased appetite or giving in to a random craving weighs heavily on my heart, but most days I feel empowered by the good choices and healthful nutrients I’m consuming to fuel my strong and healthy baby girl. I’m lucky to be surrounded by supportive people who both encourage me and also refuse to let me wallow in self-pity or dumb opinions. This baby and I both have a lot of growing to do, and I speak for us both (is that allowed?) when I say we are so lucky to have our support network cheering us on.

 

 

 

 

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Parents.

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I’ve really struggled to find the words for a post about my parents’ visit last month, which is why I really haven’t written anything lately. (I’ve also been behind on my school work for weeks, so there’s that!) I think despondent is the best word to describe how I’ve been feeling. They were here for several weeks (my mom stayed on for a bonus stay after my dad went back to work) and it was non-stop fun. We explored the Northern Beaches (where Donnie and I live), ate amazing food in the city, went kayaking and hiking, drank countess flat whites, rode lots of ferries, ate our fill of bacon and egg rolls and TimTams, walked across the Harbour Bridge, went snorkeling on the Great Barrier Reef, rode camels in the desert at Uluru, and cuddled koalas in Brisbane. It’s been a definite adjustment going back to “real life” since they left.

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My parents are veteran travellers, and completely to blame for my travel obsession, so they wasted no time jumping straight into Aussie life and soaking up all this unbelievable continent has to offer.

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I realized that my parents have shared in some part of literally all of my life experiences. They were there while I was growing up (obviously), moved me into countless dorms and housing while I was going to college in Evansville, visited me in England while I was studying abroad, moved me to Tulsa, visited my first-ever chaotic class of kindergarteners, moved me back to Nashville, let me move back in with them before I got married, and spent time in Donnie’s and my first home just hanging out, watching movies, eating dinner, and helping me garden. They’ve shared in every single stage of my life, emotionally supporting me, but also physically sharing in all of my spaces.

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They make the effort to show up, whether in a classroom in Oklahoma or a castle in the UK– they always manage to be there for me. And now, Australia feels so much more real to me since they’ve trekked thousands of miles across the world to share in this new space. Part of me didn’t feel like this experience was fully concrete until they spent time here and understood the places I described, the food I ate, and where I spent my time. I don’t mean this in a co-dependent or needy way, it’s more that things just feel a bit brighter and more meaningful now that my parents understand my environment on a different level.

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One of the hardest parts of moving to Sydney has been leaving family and friends. I get lonely sometimes, which isn’t fun to talk about, but it’s true. Talking and staying in touch is a particular challenge, especially when most people tend to put the responsibility on us to reach out. I am particularly grateful that my mom and dad make the time to call, whether for casual chats or long catch-ups, it means a lot. And now they understand the exact path I’m on when I say I’m walking to the bus, or what my apartment looks like, or how gorgeous the ocean is on a given day. There’s a privilege in being truly known, and I really can’t explain how grateful I am that my parents continue to make it a priority to know me and Donnie, specifically at this point in our lives.

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While I’m feeling a distinct void since my parents have come and gone that I hadn’t felt before, I also feel much more grounded having shared this new home with them. Donnie and I are constantly revisiting the adventures we had together and laughing over the ridiculous things that happened. Maybe I’m getting old and sentimental, but memories are so precious to me these days. (It’s really nothing new. I’ve been a sentimental mess since I can remember.) Now that I’ve worked through my emotions on their trip in general, I can’t wait to share more of the details from our travels across the land down under! (And maybe they are already talking of a return trip, which I fully support.)

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Fixer Upper Down Under

A few weeks ago one of my best friends from college, Kami, came to visit for her 30th birthday. We had an absolute blast exploring beaches, enjoying a spa day, visiting the zoo, riding ferries, indulging in afternoon beachside sangrias, doing touristy things, eating gelato in the shape of fancy roses, and redesigning my apartment. She’s an artist and a design genius, so I took advantage of having her in Sydney to seriously improve our living space. That sounds like I forced her to work while she was on holiday, but I promise she was excited to take on the challenge of our small space and small budget.

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The picture below was actually before we moved in, so imagine just the couch, a rug, and the TV with nothing else in the room.

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Kami walked in and within two minutes rearranged the layout to make the room feel so much more defined (and not a configuration I would have ever even tried– this is why you call in the professionals!)

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Once the room layout was solved we headed out to the shops to figure out how to decorate and fill in the gaps of missing space. I was pretty blown away by the results, especially considering we spent less than $500, including all new pillows and a new chair!

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I am obsessed with this gallery wall she put together for me, especially because it is such a perfect balance of sizes, shapes, and mixture of materials.

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What really brought the room together from being a random collection of furniture to feeling like a space designed with purpose was the little reading nook Kami created by pulling in a basket chair, side table, and some cute accessories. Not only does this seating area add a feeling of being “complete” to our living space, it’s super comfortable. My favourite piece in our whole house is this custom painting Kami did for us that perfectly captures the ocean and Aussie feel we wanted, without being too obvious.

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Because she’s a creative genius, Kami also waved her magic wand and completely revamped our balcony for only $40! Small touches go a long way. We also got really cute little string lights, but those haven’t been hung yet.

Before:

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After:

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Maybe the best part of having a curated and designed space is that we are enjoying our using our home so much more! I spend more time on the balcony because it’s comfy and cute, and we’ve also kept our living room neater because we love the way it looks. I also feel more connected to our apartment since it has so many personal touches now.

Huge shout out and thanks to Kami (of kami land design) for not only coming all the way to Australia to let me celebrate your 30th with you, but making our little apartment truly feel like home. I couldn’t be happier with the results of the “remodel” (as I kept calling it to Donnie, which just made him fear for the financial fallout… hah!) and redesign.

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A Year in Review

One year ago today, Donnie and I got off our 17 hour Qantas flight with absolutely no idea what to expect. All I really remember from that first day was feeling super hot (it was -1C/30F the day we left Nashville and 36 C/96.8F the day we arrived in Sydney) and somewhat disoriented. We stayed in a hellacious granny flat for the first week we were here (you can revisit my recount of that lovely experience here) and it honestly took longer than I expected to really settle in to life Down Under. But after a year here, I have found Australia to be a wild, amazing place that I deeply love. I could write loads of serious insights into how different life is and how things have changed, but instead I thought we’d keep it light and fun with a few “Top 5” (or other random number) lists of different things we’ve experienced since February 14, 2016. Enjoy!

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Top 5 Weirdest Things We’ve Learned to Say

1. Chockers (pronounced “Chockahs”): full up, crowded

For example, “Aw mate, I tried to get us a table at Beach Burrito but it was chockers.”

2. How you going?: How are you? (Never answer with actual directions, like “Oh I’m going to the shops.”)

How you going mate?”  “Yeah, good!”

3. She’ll be right: it’s OK

As in, “Are you worried about layoffs at your company?” “Yeah nah, she’ll be right.”

4. Flat out like a lizard drinking: super busy

“How you going mate?” “I’m flat out like a lizard drinking!”

5. Easy as/Sweet as/Aussie as: various uses

“Just ring up Donnie and ask him.” “Easy as!”

“I got two tickets to the rugby match.” “Sweet as!”

“I chucked two snags on the barbecue.” “Ah, Aussie as!”

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Top 7 Trips We’ve Taken

1. Bali, Indonesia

2. Alaska

3. South Pacific Islands

4. San Diego/Nashville

5. The Blue Mountains

6. Brisbane

7. Melbourne

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Top 4 Weirdest Aussie Sports

1. Cricket

2. Aussie Rules Football

3. Rugby

4. Netball

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Top 6 Things We Miss from America

1. Lucy, the greatest little black pup

2. Central AC/heat

3.. Mexican food

4.. Trader Joe’s

5. Chick-Fil-A

6. Amazon (not even asking for Prime, just regular old Amazon)

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Top 6 Foods Australia Does Better Than the US

1. Coffee (Neither of us has ever been a coffee snob, but after getting used to coffee here it’s almost impossible to go back.)

2. Chocolate (specifically Cadbury, though it is still not quite on par with the UK’s Cadbury which is the all-time greatest)

3. Thai

4. Pizza

5. Chips (as in fries. Also chicken salt is the greatest invention.)

6. TimTams (also known as the greatest biscuit ever made)

7. Hot Cross Buns

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Top 2 Scariest Aussie Animals (spoiler alert: neither is a spider or a snake)

1. Magpies (You haven’t experienced true terror until one of these giant birds dive bombs your head and rips your hair from your head.)

2. Cockroaches (As if the giant gross bugs aren’t bad enough- they fly!)

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Top 7 Fave Aussie Experiences

 1. Diving into giant waves over and over and over.

2. Eating fish and chips on the beach.

3. Sausage sizzle.

4. Climbing the Harbour Bridge.

5. Cuddling a koala (which was more like trying not to get clawed to death and less like cuddling.)

6. Seeing a koala in the wild.

7. Watching a movie at the outdoor cinema on the harbour (and an incredible bonus Chinese New Year fireworks show!)

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It’s been a pretty unbelievable year. We are so grateful to our family and friends who make the time to stay in touch and keep up with us, even with the time difference and distance challenges. Cheers to a fabulous year of adventure and a whole new year to come!

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A Home Divided.

I’m currently sitting on one of my balconies (yes, our new apartment has more than one– it’s delightful!) while Donnie grills chicken for our burrito bowls we’ll soon eat for supper. It’s absolutely lovely here: 27 degrees (80 fahrenheit), sunny, with a nice breeze coming off the ocean, and our friendly Cockatoo hanging out on the roof. It’s hard to believe that two weeks ago we were in the middle of winter!

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We had a fabulous time visiting home over the holidays. I got to spend nine days in Carlsbad, CA (just north of San Diego) with my sister, brother-in-law, niece, and nephew at their new home having a blast at Sea World, Disneyland, and exploring their beautiful neighborhood beaches and hangouts. I also got to meet up with one of my best friends from college for a day of living out high school dreams in Laguna Beach.

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I missed my niece’s eighth birthday on December 2, so I took her to Disneyland for a belated celebration. She’s been to Disney over a dozen times, but she still was so excited when we got off the shuttle that she couldn’t stop squealing and we ended up sprinting to the ticket line. It was a truly magical day.

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After a week full of laughs, games of speed, trampoline time, and snuggles with my fave little ones, we all headed to Nashville the day before Christmas Eve. We walked off our flight to the best welcome home committee ever, including a giant poster of my face. (Funny side note: I saw the face as we were walking up and thought “Hah! That’s so funny and also embarrassing for whoever it is on the poster…. wait… that’s MY face!”)

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Donnie got in later that evening after 17 hours from Sydney to Dallas and a quick 2 hour flight up from DFW. We all rendezvoused at our all-time favorite Mexican place, Las Palmas, for some much-craved cheese dip (which sadly does not exist in Sydney) and the always delicious LP Special (chicken, peppers, and onions over a bed of rice and doused in cheese dip). Donnie and I went back to his parents’ house to spend the night and have a reunion with our little black pup, Lucy. My in-laws are graciously keeping Lucy while we are in Australia and I miss her immeasurably. She was very happy to see us and promptly snuggled up on the couch with us, even when there wasn’t really room for her. All the puppy kisses and snuggles helped make up for all the tears I cried when we had to leave her.

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Christmas was a whirlwind of family time, comfort food, and presents. We got to celebrate with both sides of our families which was such a treat. The highlight of my day was waking up to Ally and Burton (8 and 3) digging into their stockings and trying to hold off until all the adults made it downstairs for presents. My nephew gets unusually excited about clothes, and when he opened the t-shirt Donnie had picked out for him he squealed, “It’s got a kangaroo AND a koala!” Later in the day at my aunt’s house he paused while tearing into a giant package, looked around the room and asked, “Is everyone enjoying their presents?” He’s pretty emotionally tuned in for a three year old.

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After Christmas we got to spend time with our parents and siblings– enjoying game nights, a Preds game, more delicious food, shopping, and just hanging out. Donnie got to go to a Titans game with his buddies and we got together with one of our favorite couples to watch our only Vols win of the year when they trampled Nebraska at the Music City Bowl, followed by some fun out on Broadway downtown.

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We rang in the New Year with some of my college besties and their husbands and friends, really fun games, too many jello shots, a music note drop, and a Keith Urban concert. (I was pretty convinced that if we told Keith Urban’s security guards that I lived in Australia he would let us meet him. Luckily, I didn’t test out that theory.)

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Being home felt surprisingly normal. At one point I remember thinking, “That was fun when we used to live in Australia.” Falling back into old patterns felt seamless. And now that I’m back home (Australia home) it also feels surprisingly normal. The day we landed in Sydney we collected our bags (and our two amazing backpack beach chairs with headrests and cupholders that recline- thanks Mama and Daddy!) and took a cab back to Dee Why. We dropped off our stuff, grabbed bacon and egg rolls, showered and rested for a minute before heading to the beach. It was a perfect day and we soaked up the sun until we were too tired to stay awake and promptly fell asleep at 6:30 pm.

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I have felt an acute loneliness since we’ve been back that I hadn’t really felt before. I miss my friends, my family, my niece and nephew. I miss being able to drive anywhere I want to go. I miss being surrounded by people who know me, who just get me, who speak the same and grew up the same and share my cultural identity. But I also simultaneously crave the slightly uncomfortable growth that I experience here almost daily. While in Tennessee, I really missed being surrounded by various accents and languages at all times. I missed the ease of jumping on a bus and being driven wherever I need to go. I missed being able to walk to the grocery or to shops. I missed my little apartment and my new familiarities. I felt a sense of relief the first day I boarded a bus, tapped my Opal card, and sat down to listen to a podcast while riding the 15 minutes to the mall. I suppose what I’m trying to describe is the bizarre reality of truly having two homes– two distinctly different places in which I feel both comfortable and also like some integral part of my reality is missing. While living here is not our forever plan, it really has become home over the last eleven months, and I think there will always be a little piece of my heart here.

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Post-Thanksgiving Thanks

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While Thanksgiving is officially over and it’s now time for presents and lights and trees, I still want to share a little about some specific things I’m thankful for this year. I find sharing our thanks to be a little tricky sometimes. When I was in fourth grade, we wrote in our journals at the end of every school day, and on Fridays we were supposed to write about things we were thankful for from our week and then share with our class. We had just put in a pool at our house and I ended up using this weekly reflection to brag about it. I wrote things like, “I’m thankful I can go swimming anytime I want” and “I’m thankful it’s warm enough to swim in my pool every day after school.” I kind of missed the point. As an adult, I still walk the line between being truly thankful for things and doing that annoying “humble brag” thing that is so easy to do. That being said, I spent some time in quiet reflection over the past week thinking over this year and all of the things, both seemingly positive and negative, for which I am truly thankful.

Alone Time

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Before moving to Australia, I spent very little time by myself. I spent my early and mid-20’s living with roommates and spending most of my days with my students and my free time with my friends. After moving back to Nashville at 25, I was usually with friends, Donnie, or my family. I’ve never lived alone and I’ve always worked full-time in jobs with lots of human interaction. However, I spent the majority of the first three months we were in Sydney completely alone. Donnie went to work every day and I had no where to be. After a year and a half of working far more than 40 hours a week at a demanding (and perfectly wonderful) job, the change was abrupt and challenging. I read 47 books in three months. I felt incredibly sad and lonely at first, but gradually I began to grow into my new-found alone time. I explored our new city at my own pace, visiting museums and parks with no rush and no agenda. I started drinking tea on my balcony each morning while our street slowly woke up. I prayed, but not in a deliberate or specific way, more in just a casual, continuous conversational way I had never really experienced before. I improved my photography skills a little. Even after I started working part-time and going to school full-time, I still found myself spending the better part of my days alone. I use my alone time to listen to podcasts, read, write, and just think. I’m much more comfortable with myself than I have ever been. Silence used to intimidate me, but I now find it to be vaguely comforting. I’m much more aware of my mental and physical health as I spend time tuning in to my experiences and working through things instead of just blazing full-steam ahead and ignoring my discomfort or frustrations.

My Students

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Connecting with students, whether my first class of kindergarteners (pictured above), high school seniors, or even college students, brings me joy unlike anything else. I’m so thankful for the hilarious, cheeky, curious little minds I get to engage with every week through my job. Watching as a kindy student makes the connection between all these sounds she’s learned and actual words on a page is inspiring. Coaxing a shy year five student into developing an opinion and putting his opinion into a structured persuasive essay is exciting. Building success with my little guy who finds school frustrating and who now looks forward to coming in for an hour after a long Monday at school because “this is fun and I actually learn stuff” is as rewarding as it gets.

Consistently Pleasant Weather

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I’ve lived through the end of summer, all of autumn, all of winter, and all of spring in Sydney so far, and there has not been a rough season. Winter, while cooler, was still almost always bright and sunny, with our average July (the equivalent of January in the States) temperature between 18-20 degrees (64-68 degrees fahrenheit). I’m pretty sure every single day of April was sunshine and 76 degrees. Good weather makes me a happier, more balanced person. I spend so much more time outside every day and I no longer have to suffer through those weeks of cold, dreary, grey days that just suck all of my energy and joy. The sky here is usually this unbelievable shade of blue, just so vibrant and rich that it looks like an Instagram filter in real life. Living on the ocean is an added benefit, as the calm and serenity that I gather from the water is unbelievable. I’m grateful for all of the sun I’ve soaked up, the cool sea breezes, and a consistently lovely climate.

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Thanksgiving is a time for traditions– deep-fried turkey and caramel apple sangria at the Conleys, Black Friday shopping (and an excuse to go out to lunch) with my mom, sister, and niece, watching football and putting up our Christmas lights at our house– and we really missed enjoying those things with our families this year. But Donnie and I truly have a lot to be thankful for in this exciting, adventurous season we’re living at the moment, and I feel it’s important to focus on what we gain instead of what we lose. This year we got to celebrate this holiday with friends from all over: the US, Australia, Ireland, Slovakia, and South Africa if I’m remembering all of the countries represented at our little expat celebration. We talked about our own family traditions and created new memories that we’ll think back to once we’re no longer in Australia. It’s a beautiful time and we’re so thankful for this wildly different and always changing life down under.

 

 

Why English?

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I’m officially more than half-way through my first semester of grad school- hooray! Going back to school after a 6 year absence was intimidating to begin with, then compounded by my unfamiliarity with the Australian education system. I’m starting to settle in and feel more comfortable with my courses, and thought I would share three insights from my experience so far.

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1. Grades are Marks, and No One Really Cares

One of the biggest changes from the American university system has been the lack of emphasis on grades. Here, we call grades “marks” and instead of an A, B, C, D, F system, they use a much broader range to encompass a student’s degree of understanding and mastery.

85-100%: High Distinction

75-84%: Distinction

65-74%: Credit

50-64%: Pass

49% and lower: Fail

In grad programs, anything that receives a mark of 90 or higher is considered publishable, so that mark is reserved for only incredibly outstanding, thoroughly researched, original work. I’ve only received one mark thus far, on an oral presentation I gave in my Critical Reading class on a highly theoretical, difficult reading. When I first saw my mark (I got an 88) I was disappointed. In my American mind, I’d received a B+, which was a letdown for the amount of work I’d put into my lecture. However, when I met with my professor (or tutor, or lecturer, or coordinator– I still haven’t figured out exactly what to call my professors here) he was full of praise and remarked how well I had done. We then spent a few minutes discussing the differences in grading here and in the States (he came to Sydney Uni from Harvard.)

Marks are really less of a judgment and more of an acknowledgement of a student’s output. Students here are also much less concerned with specific marks– they want to pass, and generally want to earn at least a credit for their work, but students are much more concerned with actually learning material and being able to apply new knowledge in their work. Honestly, it’s pretty refreshing. I’m still adjusting, but overall, there is much less pressure to earn a perfect mark, and more encouragement to take in new information and be able to apply that information to class discussions, future readings, and written work.

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2. English is Hard, and also Worthwhile

I’ve loved reading and writing since I was able to do each. My first journal begins when I was around 4 and half, and contains many amazing descriptions including: (and I’m paraphrasing from memory here) “Today we had a snowball fight. My daddy hit me in the face and I cried and cried.” And then an ending note, clearly in my mom’s handwriting, stating “It was an accident and he said he was sorry!”

However, from an early age I can also recall trying to figure out how to find a job that used my love of reading and writing, but was profitable. I landed on law first, then journalism, then editing– but ultimately ended up teaching. I love education, and I will always consider myself an educator, but I’ve also realized that I spent 28 years skirting around my true love: literature. Why? Because it wasn’t practical, profitable, or pragmatic. (Not that teaching is profitable in the States either.)

There is such an emphasis today (especially in the US) on earning a degree that is “worth it.” I kept English relegated as a minor area of study in my undergrad because Communication provided much wider access to the job market, and as I graduated in 2010, the job market was scary enough on its own. I’ve read countless articles that advocate for students to look at entry-level salaries in their chosen field, and then use that data to determine whether it is worth it to pursue their chosen major. It is exactly this thinking that kept me from pursuing the degree I truly wanted.

Education is a privilege, and the material we have covered in my courses this semester (namely Critical Reading and Global Lit) has only reinforced the privilege and responsibility that comes with an education. Many times, the only way repressed or unrepresented voices are heard in our privileged community is through words– by producing literature that is then accessed by broader communities. Literature provides us with a real, authentic education, and I’ve found that studying literature, and the greater cultural context inevitably surrounding all literature, immensely rewarding. Will I ever make a ton of money with an English MA? Nope. But I’m learning to look outside of our rigidly capitalistic societal norms and find a greater purpose. (Dad, please don’t read this as your already liberal daughter turning into a Socialist, I promise I’m not!) However, literature does connect us in a way nothing else can, and studying those connections prompts us to be better, more responsible, more responsive global citizens.

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3. Experience Creates Better Students

I was a pretty good student in undergrad. Pretty good. I went to (most) of my classes, I did some of my reading, and I almost always turned in assignments on time. It helped that I went to a tiny school where you failed if you had more than 3 absences in any given class and where your professors knew immediately if one of 15-20 students were missing from a class. I also remembered my Dad telling me that each class I took cost something like $7,500 or something ridiculous, so that motivated me as well. But I also cared a lot about my friends, my sorority, my extracurriculars, and sleep. Thank goodness Netflix instant streaming didn’t exist while I was in undergrad, or I really might not have gotten anything done.

As an adult, who is actually paying for her own degree and taking this on completely voluntarily, I am a much better student than I ever was in high school or college. Because I’m only working part-time, I have the time to read all of my assigned readings (though reading Moby Dick in one-and-a-half weeks was still quite the challenge) and take notes on everything. I have the space to think through the context surrounding different works, and even read interviews with authors and other critical pieces related to the work. I’ve been prepared for every seminar, and I feel like I’m able to participate in a meaningful way. I’m earning this degree because this is a subject matter that I love, and it changes everything.

I believe there’s a lot to be gained through taking a “gap year” (loads of Aussies take one, it’s a very common practice here) and growing up a bit before undertaking an undergrad program. I’m learning that education should be a process, not a product, and that we’ve (Americans) missed the mark in a big way with our current university system. I’m not sure what the answer is, but I do know I’m developing the skills and critical knowledge necessary to take on this problem in a meaningful way for the undergrads I’ll eventually teach.

Bonus: The University of Sydney has a gorgeous campus, and better coffee than I was ever able to get at UE or Harlaxton. Although this school does have considerably more asbestos than I’ve encountered in the US or UK. (Yikes.)

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