Monthly Archives: March 2022

            How does one fully recover from a loss? I’m not talking death, which is inevitable, bound to happen, and everyone will get to experience at different stages in their lives. What I mean is a loss so personal, significant, sudden. One that may seem reparable if there’s patience, communication, care, and a willingness to overcome the past from all parties involved. But just as it seems like so, that’s not always the case. More often than not this idea, or hope, of reparation and reconciliation are just that—hopeful and hopeless longings for something that may never happen. So, again, how does one fully recover from this? How does on get to move on as if this situation were no longer an obstacle in the day-to-day journey that is life and getting on with it?

            For a while I’ve not been well. Everyone who knows me, has interacted with me prior to and afterwards, has noticed if I can’t seem to hide it. Answers to “how are you” questions are always “okay”, answers to “what’s going on?” are always “nothing”. Some people know in detail, others don’t know at all, and a few know scattered parts of a whole story, divided in many parts. I tend to keep to myself—I don’t like bothering people with my problems, I say; they’re busy with their own lives, I reason; this is not something I should be making a big deal of anyways, I conclude. It all leads to an endless cycle, or spiral, that meets no end.

            As human beings, often in a state of change, movement, and growth, we are prone to experience loss. Sometimes we expect it and sometimes we don’t. We lose family members, pets, friends, colleagues, lovers, enemies. We also lose interest, drive, motivation. Loss is part of the experiences that we go through in our lives, it’s inevitable, and a process difficult to get pass, overcome, and heal from. 

            I will not give details here, but I will say that experiencing a recent loss has been the hardest thing I’ve experienced thus far. I know I’m only 25, more losses are sure to come, and other hard(er) moments will also arise but, for the time being, this definitely takes the cake. It’s hard to concentrate, find joy in the things you once used to love doing, getting out of bed, and focusing on something else, anything. Sleeping excessively to avoid thinking and feeling have become staples in my daily routine. Terrible, I know, but at least it helps in its own twisted way. 

            When one experiences a loss so personal, sudden, unexpected, it leaves behind a fresh wound that seems to take forever to heal. It eats away at your motivation, confidence, happiness, and overall well-being. Sometimes you don’t fully know what was/is the reason behind it and that just adds another layer of hurt, more agony to the process of getting better, and loads of self-doubt, guilt, and overthinking to try to find an answer that you may never know.

            Clearly, I have no answer to the initial question on this post. I’m still navigating the waters of such an experience and it’s by no means easy. There are so many emotions and too many things to say, but this is not the space to unpack it all. 

During the first week of March, I attended a conference in my alma mater in Puerto Rico. To go back to the institution that helped start shaping the student and academic-in-the-making (or “baby” academic as I’ve called myself among conversations with friends) as a PhD student and present the early stages of some of felt surreal-at-best. I was nervous, regretting every bit of the decisions to 1) submit a proposal for a paper I had conceptualized, but not yet written, 2) confirm my attendance and participation once I was accepted, and 3) bought a last-minute plane ticket to Puerto Rico to present in-person and attend as many events and panels during the 3 days of the conference. Looking back, I don’t necessarily regret it, just the fact that I’m still here instead of Michigan while Spring Break is over is something I’m still racking my brain over—not my best decision, to be quite honest, but that’s an issue for some other time. For this post, I will be reflecting back on some of the things I learned and/or have thought about during the span of the 3 days attending this event.

1. Do not leave out your positionality.

It’s hard for me to insert myself in my work. I don’t like discussing much of who I am and why is it that I’m doing the work I engage with, aside from saying “I’m a young Puerto Rican woman who appreciates the role of art in moments of resistance”. I don’t mention that I’ve been in protests and strikes myself, that I’ve engaged in the performance arts, or any other detail that may align with my research interests and situate me within it. I don’t yet know where and how to do it, especially through writing—if I have to say it in front of an audience it just becomes more nerve-wracking and confusing. But even though I struggle with this, I need to find a way to do it; carefully, mindfully, and succinctly. 

• Attend as many panels/events as you can… and take notes.

The conference was a 3-day affair. Initially, I was going to virtually attend and present during my assigned panel and call it done. For various reasons I decided against it and flew over to PR, drove to Mayagüez, and attended different scheduled events. Out of the 3 days, I attended 2 of them in-person, and zoomed into a couple others on the last day. It was a bit of a hassle trying to decide which panels/events/sessions to attend, but in the end, I felt like the decisions I took were worth it. I also tried to take some notes during some of the panels attended because you never know whose work, you’ll come across with that will really spark/resonate/align with yours. The people/works they engage with, as well as their own projects can be illuminating for one’s own and, also, building connections with them can be enriching.

• It’s okay if your work is not done yet.

I used to think that I had to always have a completed research project to present at a conference. The more put-together it is, the better. And, yes, I still think this is quite true. However, that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t present the early stages/ruminations of a project. That’s exactly what I did for this conference and, while I must say I do not feel like it’s been my best work, it wasn’t bad either. Could I have been a bit more prepared? Yes, absolutely. But being 100% prepared isn’t synonymous with having a completed piece that has been drafted and revised more than 5 times and includes all the literature on the subject. There are MANY books, articles, and other pieces I haven’t been exposed to yet, have only skimmed, or just haven’t fully grasped in order to confidently engage with them. What I’m exposing, is the early stage of a work-in-progress that just started to materialize in writing, and that’s definitely okay.

• Don’t overthink the Q+A session.

This part is nerve-wracking at best for me. I always get anxious when it comes to answering questions from the audience, because I never know what they’ll ask and how will I answer a question I may not know the answer to? I learned that it’s definitely okay to say, “I hadn’t considered this before, but thank you for the observation, and I’ll keep it in mind for future work”. Plain, simple, and acceptable. Sometimes you will have an answer that directly addresses the question’s main concern/point, sometimes you won’t. Whatever the case, it’s fine, and not something to lose your head over.

• Your support system is important.

The last point on what I learned is that having a support system throughout this process is completely important and significant. I don’t think I would’ve gone through with the proposing, writing, and delivering of my work for the conference had it not been for the support of my friends, colleagues, and professors. Their encouragement, willingness to read drafts, give feedback, presence, and good wishes are a huge part of what makes this worthwhile and to not give up during moments of extreme stress, self-doubt, and other forms of insecurity.