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My mom once used a quilt as a metaphor for our lives, in which patterns overlap and repeat,

and the quilter has control of what patterns they focus on and how they take care of the quilt, but
there are always other external factors that can affect the fabric and patterns. In reflecting on what my
quilt looks like and what future patterns are developing, I can see three or four different patterns, or
Stories of Self.
My first major pattern, and the foundation for my story is my home and where I spent the
majority of my childhood. I grew up on Orcas Island in the Pacific Northwest, surrounded by water,
evergreen forests, and farm fields. I was greatly influenced by the small community and emphasis on
compassion for neighbors, local agriculture, and the value of island time. I remember potlucks as
the typical gathering of friends, where every guest brought a dish of food and the multigenerational
gathering would play games and sing songs. A large part of my identity and story is based on Orcas,
because it is where my longest interpersonal relationships are geographically based.
Throughout middle school and high school, I was annually involved in the United Nations
Commission on Sustainable Development. We were a student led group that fundraised on Orcas to
travel to New York City for seven consecutive years. We were usually the youngest participants in the
negotiations, and worked with youth from around the world to advocate for the inclusion of youth in
the policies being worked on. The international political arena is a pattern of my story that has
permeated my academic, personal, and professional life. Because Orcas is predominantly white,
spending regular time in New York City was akin to experiencing a new culture, and both diversity of
thought and people was eye opening for myself and the other students with me. The UN is a
fascinating example of where a forum has been created that has the potential to establish a new
system, bridge gaps in relations, and establish models for best practices, yet the political power
dynamics inhibit any development outside of the walls of the UN. The document that we were

negotiating year after year is essentially a blueprint for transitioning to a more sustainable world with
the infrastructure we have.
However, the frustration for much of civil society, and myself, is that the policies and
guidelines have little weight. They are words on a piece of paper. Empty promises and visions of
paradigm shifts are lost in translation from policy to action. There was a quote that a minister from
the Netherlands repeated in a speech in 2009, and that has stuck with me ever since. The quote took a
phrase from the Bible, Swords into ploughshares, and added words into action!. This phrase,
swords into ploughshares, words into action! embodied what we were advocating for day after day
at the UN. It became a motto for many of those representing civil society, but it also went further for
me. It pushed me to think of what action I was doing aside from negotiations to enact tangible
change. I began to question why I was involved in the UN, when the real work was on the ground.
The negotiations at the UN were often far from reaching the daily lives of people around the world. I
began to realize that I wanted to influence communities on a more local level.
Although exhilarating to be surrounded by passionate, diverse youth and civil society that
were dedicated to influencing the political arena, the bureaucratic institution was slow changing and
often more disappointing than successful and fulfilling. In retrospect, I was incredibly privileged to
be able to attend the conferences as a representative, but within the UN we were very low on the
hierarchical pyramid. We were excluded from most high-level negotiations, and we were
advocating and suggesting for changes.
After I distanced myself from the work at the UN, I was discouraged that I would not be able
to influence policies in the way that I wanted to. Then in 2012, I was asked to work with the
SustainUS Lead Now Fellowship. SustainUS is a youth-led, volunteer based, national organization
that works on environmental and sustainable development issues at both the policy level and

organizing civil society level to create change in our communities and politics. The Lead Now
Fellowship works with 6 youth-led and designed projects around the US. The projects are focused on
sustainable development and community organizing at a local level. This program highlights the
mission that I believe in: by engaging in positive community development initiatives, we can begin to
change our habits and systems in order to adapt to the impacts of climate change.
However, this is one part of my identity, one story. It is not my only story, but it is a story
that I have often kept separate from Bryn Mawr academics and from my life at home since high
school. One of the reasons I chose Bryn Mawr was because of the Peace, Conflict, and Social Justice
Issues Concentration. I have been interested in Peace and Conflict Resolution studies and as a
professional career path since working in the UN. As one of 38 graduating students from Orcas Island
High School, I knew I wanted to get off the island and be an actor in the big, wide world.
I sought opportunities that challenged what I knew to be true, something that Ellsworth and
other theorists discuss as a part of changing our perceptions. I have always looked for a challenge in
work, and continue to desire the challenges that will push me outside of my comfort zone. As I took a
step back from the UN, I still had a dream of working with people who had nothingworking with
refugees seeking a home, and I wanted to use my privilege to help others. The culture I was raised in
had an emphasis on civic duty to serve the health of the community and the world. This plays into the
White Savior Complex, in an attempt to save the world. As I began to recognize the fault in that
paradigm, I took the advice of Cole to begin our activism right here (2012). The statement that
Cole makes about having respect for the agency of the people of Uganda in their own lives. A
great deal of work had been done, and continues to be done, by Ugandans to improve their own
country (2012), deeply resonated with my interest in foreign policy and international relations.
However, I wanted to start at home and focus on what needed to change in my own community.

At Bryn Mawr, my identity is greatly influenced by being a member of the soccer team. I
began to play soccer in high school, as an outlet and as a place for solace. Soccer was a different
pattern for me in high school, along with my focus on the UN. In college, I similarly separated my
work at the UN and SustainUS from soccer and Bryn Mawr. Nonetheless, being a member of the
soccer team has been a major part of my identity, as it dictated how I spent my time and whom I spent
my time with. I love teams, and being on a team has developed who I am and what characteristics I
value in others. When I declared Psychology sophomore year, I knew that it would be the groundwork
for whatever professional field I entered, and would add a level of understanding and analysis into my
personal life.
I see my cultural autobiography as multifaceted, because of the childhood influences of
Orcasan entirely different culture than an urban or suburban culture. There are a number of times
that my race, class, gender, and sexual orientation have provided a privileged experience. When I am
at school or off-island, I present myself today in a way that assimilates to what is perceived as a
socially acceptable middle-class, privileged white woman. Gender and sexual orientation were unseen
privileges growing up, and in retrospect I can identify times at which I used my gender or age to an
advantage. I recognize and acknowledge this, and at the same time I value my identity as a friend and
as a student much higher than any other parts of my identity. I have been greatly influenced by classes
that criticize what is culturally normative, and analyze the positive ways in which to be a global
citizen and ally in my own community and for other communities. Michelle Alexanders call for
people to take a step into the metaphorical river of truth is the heart at which I want to continue the
learning experiences that I have opened at Bryn Mawr. As I begin to overlap what my experiences at
Bryn Mawr have taught me and what values I bring from my own community, I want to take one
more step into the river, the river of truth, of love, of courage, of justice, the river that has run through

it all (Alexander, 2015). This illuminates the path ahead, and including my most recent experiences
at and around Bryn Mawr.
I spent the past weekend at the Posse Plus Retreat, where the theme was Crime and
Punishment: Power, Authority, and Police Brutality. As a guest I spent the weekend absorbing the
information and the expressions of other students and faculty members. It was an incredible
opportunity; I hope to continue to reflect and act on the lessons I have learned. My experiences with
diversity of thought have greatly influenced my interest in ideas and learning.
Over the past years at Bryn Mawr, I have seen the patterns of who I am intersect at many
different points. I recognize the intersections of privilege that act as forces in my daily life, and how
they will affect who I am becoming. I recognize the intersections of my identities and how my
identity is fluid, often because of where I am geographically. For example, at home I perform my
social class very differently than off-island. Although my race and ethnicity have only become a
forefront of my awareness in the past couple years at Bryn Mawr. I was taught from an early age of
my British and Scottish heritage, and who my ancestors were and what they did. I experienced
privilege as a child much differently from how I experience privilege today. For example, growing
up, I had no awareness of the social value of television, microwaves, or dishwashers. I grew up with a
composting toilet, no running water in the winter, an outhouse in the summer, and Value Village was a
gold mine if I ever wanted new clothes. These were my reality, and because many of my friends had
similar lifestyles, I was never a spectacle, nor did I ever feel like we had less than others.
In the process of understanding my privileges, I can see the process written in Ann Berlaks
description of adaptive unconsciousness and considering how others view us. As I reflect and
relearn unconscious behavior, I am able to assess myself through the eyes of others and to assess
other people as well (Berlak, 2. My understanding of my privilege growing up was simple: I was

privileged to have a roof over my head and a bed to sleep on; to live on a farm, in a place surrounded
by dark green forests and sparkling ocean waters. In my experiences traveling and going abroad I
have encountered a fascinating paradox of both privilege and marginalization based on my gender
and nationality. This continues to challenge my views on adaptive unconsciousness and how I
perform my identity based on the context of a situation.
I am becoming someone who consciously takes a step into the river that Alexander
describes. I am becoming a continuation of who I am. I am building on my foundation through
expanding my horizons and maintaining my roots. I am able to critically assess and reflect on the
motivations I have for engaging in international relations, and I hope that I can continue to become
someone who I believe in.

Sources cited:
Alexander, M. Race & Caste in the U.S. Columbus, Ohio. 14 Sep. 2014. Web.
Berlak, Ann. "Challenging the Hegemony of Whiteness by Addressing the Adaptive Unconscious."
Undoing Whiteness in the Classroom: Critical Educultural Teaching Approaches for Social Justice
Activism. Ed. Virginia Lea and Erma Jean. Sims. Vol. 321. New York: Peter Lang, 2008. 47-66. Print.
Cole, Teju. "The White-Savior Industrial Complex." The Atlantic, 21 Mar. 2012. Web.

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