I hope you’ve all had lovely holidays! Mine was action-packed and super fun. I started out with some time at home in KY (which I talked about a little in my last blog post). Being home felt completely normal and utterly foreign at the same time. My time in Belfast felt like a distant dream as I coasted past my high school, sat in the pew at my childhood church, and ran into people I knew at the grocery store. Had I been gone for 3 months or 3 years? I couldn’t seem to make up my mind. I did what I always do at Christmas break: I went to the eye doctor, got a haircut, caught up with friends, relaxed with my family, stayed up super late every night for no reason, and ate lots of Christmas sweets. I think it felt different this time because I appreciated everything a little extra. I wasn’t originally planning on coming home for Christmas, but I found a really cheap flight at the last second and hopped on a plane. I had braced myself for 9 whole months away, then got a surprise trip 3 months in. Although I have thrived in the newness of Belfast, the familiar warmth of being home, with the people I love most, was a pleasant change of pace. I hugged them a little tighter and smiled a little bigger because their presence was an unexpected and needed gift. On New Year’s Eve, I played a silly board game and toasted to a new year with my family, and it couldn’t have been more perfect.

After my time in Kentucky, I went to Georgia to visit my extended family. We played pickleball and drank coffee on the porch, and I got to see real sun for the first time in months. My eyes didn’t even know what to do with all that light! I had fun chatting with everyone and hearing their terrible attempts at Irish accents. Then, I went to Nashville and spent my last few days with all my Belmont friends! Everyone’s lives have continued to change and grow like mine, but that puts no distance between us. So much can happen in 3 months– heartbreak, new opportunities, mistakes, successes– and we can sit down over a cup of coffee and connect over it all. Friendship is beautiful because we are constantly evolving into new selves, so we get to fall in love with friends anew each time we meet. I am just as in love with my friends as I have ever been, if not more! The belonging and depth of understanding I felt with them was an encouragement to continue building my community in Belfast. I know how precious and limited my time is here, and I want to deepen my connection with this city and its lovely residents. I have already found such fulfilment in being creative and silly with the young writers at Fighting Words, in drinking tea with my coworkers, in pleasant hellos with hikers on trails, in griping about core workouts with my fellow Boxercisers, in striking up chats with strangers, and in saying yes to every opportunity that presents itself. When I came back to Belfast, it felt like coming home. This city is becoming part of me, weaving itself into my hair and encircling my heart like a warm scarf. My brief time away only made me love it more.

One really cool program we have at Fighting Words is Write Quest. This fall, participants ages 13-18 completed a series of creative writing sessions, which culminated in a Story Slam in Dublin. This project was designed to foster cross-community collaboration between the North and South of Ireland, so young writers from Fighting Words Dublin and Fighting Words NI connected creatively: brainstorming, sharing ideas, devising prompts for each other (such as– write a story from an unexpected perspective), and swapping their writing for feedback. Halfway through the sessions, the Dublin writers came up to Belfast to meet their NI counterparts. They trash-talked each other’s Tayto (a popular brand of chips that has slightly different recipes in the North and South) and remarked excitedly that the price of Monster energy drinks is lower in NI. The cultural exchange was animated, lively, and invigorating for our young writers, and they had lots of fun thinking, talking, and writing together. After completing the rest of the sessions and putting the finishing touches on their writing, the Belfast writers traveled down to Dublin for the Story Slam, where they read their work aloud to an audience. I went as a chaperone, and enjoyed watching the familiarity and friendliness between the two groups as they prepared for the Slam. Before the big show, we had a practice round where the young people shared short clips of their work to get warmed up for the full audience. They cheered each other on and calmed each other down, counteracting nerves with positivity and supportive comments. By the time the Slam came around, they were amped to go. One of our writers wanted to share a script, so another chaperone and I read as the characters in the scene. We gave it our all, getting fully into character for the dark and intense scene. I could tell it meant a lot to the young playwright that we took his work seriously, and I was glad we got to participate in such a unique way. We are now waiting for our Oscars. After we got back from the trip to Dublin, I reflected with the other leaders about how encouraging it is to see the massive amounts of talent in the up and coming generation. They’re so creative, thoughtful, earnest, and hilarious, and they bravely shared that with an audience of total strangers. I am inspired by the vulnerability required to create good art– it is wonderful to give your all to something and then put it out there for others to enjoy. 

My last weeks in the office were full of fun, Christmas-y things like a used book exchange, plenty of tea and cake breaks, some very silly storymaking workshops, and a lovely staff party at a nearby brewery. The office is closed for a few weeks around Christmas, so I’ve been enjoying a proper break. I kicked it off with some crafts and Christmas movies, did some Christmas Boxercise, taste-tested the fare at the Belfast Christmas market, performed in my women’s choir’s Christmas concert, then finished my time in Belfast with a lovely potluck dinner with friends. Then, I flew back to America for Christmas! I’ve been enjoying the comforts of home: reunions with good friends, Olipop, Mexican food, CheezIts, family walks, driving my car and belting to my favorite songs, watching the National Mullet Competition on cable TV, milling about in Target, basking in the glow of our Christmas tree, and playing the piano in my living room. It’s nice to be home, but I’m already missing Belfast! I am officially ⅓ of the way through my time there, and I am looking forward to all the fun and learning that lie ahead. Merry Christmas, everyone!

Eleri x

In the past couple of weeks, I have had some truly magical workshop experiences at Fighting Words. The children have come alive with imagination, contributing brilliantly original ideas like an evil chicken nugget man with a French fry army and a water bottle who’s terrified of the dark. Throughout my time here, I have been training to become a workshop leader, and the last step of that training is learning to be a storymaker. While all the elements of the workshop are crucial to execution, storymaking is a delicate process that can make or break the workshop. The storymaker is in charge of assisting the class in writing a story line-by-line. The children are the authors of the story, but the storymaker is their guide through the writing process. A good storymaker makes the task look easy, but it requires a vivid imagination, quick wit, and endless patience. I was nervous for my first attempt at storymaking, worried that I wouldn’t be able to think quickly enough or guide them in building a cohesive plot. However, as soon as I stepped into the role, I felt an overwhelming sense of confidence and competence. I kicked off the collaborative writing time by recapping all the ideas the class had come up with for the main character, their greatest wish, greatest fear, and best friend. I reminded the children that while we knew this information about our characters, our reader didn’t know anything yet. I suggested that we could begin our story by describing the characters and giving some background, or we could start right in the action and explain the context as we go. Past stories have opened with dialogue, or a walk in the forest, or crazy lore–there’s no one right way to do it! You can read some of the stories we’ve written on the Fighting Words website. In observing the other workshop leaders for months, I have developed a sense of how to shape stories without curbing creativity and how to coax ideas out of a child who has lost their nerve. Now that I am a storymaker, I can lead all parts of any workshop. I look back at my tentative participation in early workshops, where I operated as typist or feedback giver, and see vast growth in my current understanding of our ethos and processes which enables me to adeptly lead fun, enriching workshops for the children. After the children leave each workshop, there is a palpable buzz in the room. Staff, placement students, and volunteers feel the glow of being in a space where creative freedom reigns. It is rare and special to find a place as ridiculous, whimsical, positive, and encouraging as the Fighting Words workshop space. I wish all of you could experience it with me!

A couple weeks ago, I traveled to Bournemouth to visit my friend (and fellow Lumos Traveler) Elisabeth for Thanksgiving. We cooked a big meal together: a cheese board, honey-glazed salmon, balsamic brussels sprouts, rosemary parmesan mashed potatoes, and homemade pumpkin pie were on the menu. We shared the meal with her host family, and we all went around the table and shared what we were grateful for. While it wasn’t my usual Thanksgiving crowd, I felt so much warmth and gratitude laughing with them, lingering to have seconds even though we were full, and sitting next to their life-size cardboard cutout of Keanu Reeves.

We spent the rest of the weekend taking day trips, visiting Oxford on Saturday and Bath on Sunday. One thing I love about traveling with Elisabeth is that we take it slow. We stopped to admire trampled, but ever radiant ginkgo leaves on the ground, wrote silly poems line by line on a riverside bench, had multiple coffee/tea breaks each day, enjoyed destinationless wandering, thumbed through books at the coolest bookstore ever (Topping Book Co), made friends with a cool dude running a vintage shop (shoutout to Alfie and his awesome hat), crafted acronyms out of our names (the E in Elisabeth stands for eggs, scrambled), and shared memories of past visits. 

What I’m about to say is not a new, or revolutionary thought, but it is an idea that has taken me a while to fully internalize. On past trips, I have felt a pressure to “maximize” or “make the most of” my time in a place– to see the sights, check the boxes, run on the vacation treadmill until I can barely walk anymore. However, so many of my best travel memories are from conversations with strangers and friends, not from snapping the same photo of an iconic landmark that millions of people already have in their camera rolls. Landmarks aren’t always inherently significant; the people who built, inhabited, and loved them are what give them history and meaning. Trip Advisor says the Radcliffe Camera is a must-see icon of Oxford, but it matters to me because the cafe beside it sells my mother’s favorite scones. Trip Advisor would probably not mention Regent’s Park College, but it was at the top of my list because I got to see the old bay window where I sat and read every morning in the summer of 2016. As I travel to new places, with friends or alone, I am seeking landmarks like those. The spots that reveal a city’s character to me are sometimes the tourist highlights, but they are more often a hand painted door, a well-placed bench, an outstanding cappuccino, a busy square on a Saturday morning, a chatty server, a one-of-a-kind sweater in a charity shop, a gifted street musician. These are the moments that I miss if I’m glued to an itinerary (although I still very much enjoy itineraries, don’t get me wrong). I keep my eyes wandering, my mind open, my ears attuned to music, my nose sniffing out local delicacies. When my senses lead the way, it is impossible for a trip to be wasted. 

Hello everyone, I’m excited to share some updates on work, travel, life, friends, and vibes. 

I’m enjoying all my projects at Fighting Words, but the residencies program has been a major highlight as of late. Throughout the year, we will complete six workshops each with classes in three different schools. In completing our second and third workshops with these schools, we are becoming familiar with the students and class dynamics, which means we are able to witness their evolution in real time. Our last two workshops have been focused around portals, world-building, and travel, which feels very relevant to my current experience. I even got to play an explorer character, complete with binoculars and “old” treasure maps that I spent ages meticulously cutting up to give them a well-worn effect. The young people had brilliant ideas, like an island built on a giant turtle’s back (with waves caused by the turtle’s flippers and earthquakes caused by its heartbeat). The originality and wonder that children bring to the workshops inspires me to bring that same wonder to my own travels and new experiences. Anything can be a portal if you treat it as such!

I have been portaling all over the place in the past two weeks. I flew to Madrid, Spain to visit my friend Lydia and Elisabeth came over from Bournemouth. It was restorative and encouraging to be with old friends in new contexts. All three of us graduated from Belmont this spring and moved to a foreign country alone this fall. We shared the struggles and triumphs that come with establishing yourself in an unfamiliar place, like searching for meaningful friendships, learning how to be a pedestrian amidst completely different road rules, navigating local slang/language barriers, moderating homesickness, and leaning into the exhilaration of utter independence. Lydia and I have traveled extensively together (we studied abroad together), and it was so fun to be back at it. The three of us (joined at some points by Lydia’s friend, Ryan) explored Toledo and Madrid together, cracking jokes at the art museum (my favorite context for situational comedy), scarfing down multiple orders of patatas bravas, pointing out every gorgeous mansion as a potential candidate for our timeshare, discussing the inherent sacredness of ancient cathedral architecture, sipping drinks on cafe patios in the most leisurely manner, nodding our heads in time with the beautifully spontaneous music and dancing that erupted in the street, and having multiple rounds of goodnights and giggles before we finally fell asleep each night. 

One of my favorite moments happened when we went to the park on Sunday morning. Elisabeth and Lydia were running 7 miles, and I simply don’t have that ability, so I spent an hour wandering the park by myself. After being in sun-starved Northern Ireland for almost three months, I had forgotten how healing powerful sunshine could be. The fire-colored trees draped their branches down towards the water, dogs pranced gleefully down the sidewalk, vendors set up candy booths, tourists paused to take videos, old men sipped coffees from takeaway cups, a run club stampeded through the main area, a saxophonist breathed a melancholic melody, and rowers raced across a large pond. The whole world was lit up. Parks restore my faith in humanity– there is just something so pure and good about people living their lives separately, but in synchronicity. Normalcy is infused with meaning in these spaces of togetherness. 

Back in Belfast, things are getting quite festive. The whole city has put up Christmas lights and Christmas sweaters abound. Last week, we got our first snow while I was out walking by the river. The flakes melted into my hair and eyelashes and painted my cheeks with rosiness. When I got back, I put on my soft flannel pajamas, brewed a cup of tea, lit my evergreen-scented candle (don’t tell my student housing), and watched The Holiday while the snow flurried frantically outside my window. I love winter, especially here. I’ve embraced the misty mornings and cherished the brief snaps of pale yellow sunlight, baked cookies to put over vanilla ice cream, watched pigeons cuddle on a bench, lept over puddles that looked like sky portals, chatted for hours at the Sunflower Public House patio, walked and thought on the Lagan Towpath, watched Wicked at the cinema, and sipped on steaming soup with friends. I have observed a sense of proactive nostalgia, feeling an overwhelming tenderness towards even the most mundane experiences, because I know that I will one day look back on them fondly and wistfully. I mark my happiness with conversations, photos, and writing, because I want to be as present and reflective in this period of my life as I can. On this Thanksgiving Day, I am very thankful for the life I’m living. 

We are in the midst of a very busy season at Fighting Words. In the last two weeks, I have completed my first two workshops as a Workshop Leader. As a Workshop Leader, I sent info to volunteers, assigned roles, completed the briefing and tech check, led the debrief, and handled administrative tasks like logging info in our database and saving the illustrations from the workshop. It was a lot to remember, but I felt ready to take it on because of the support and encouragement I have received from my colleagues. Marnie, who is in charge of my training, has given me the leeway to decide my own training schedule, but is still guiding me gently through the course. Sam, another workshop leader, always reiterates that I can ask him to repeat instructions as many times as I need, which I appreciate infinitely. As I have gone through the training process, I have made edits to old training materials and even created new ones to make it easier for future workshop leaders to learn the ropes. My favorite of those is a document where I drafted silly questions that character builders can use to help children develop their character ideas during workshops. The list includes questions such as, “What does this character eat for breakfast?” and “Do they have any weird or unexpected hobbies?”.

In addition to workshop leader training, I have officially begun my interviews for the case studies I’ll be writing on Fighting Words volunteers and workshop participants. This week, I met up with a rapper named Benji, who started out as a participant in our Young Playwrights program and has recently led a Fighting Words workshop of his own. Throughout the interview, he reiterated how crucial his experience with Fighting Words was to his trajectory as a writer. The facilitators were the first people to take him and his art seriously, and that gave him the confidence to keep practicing and putting his work out into the world. Our conversation was a beautiful reminder for me of just how life-changing our work at Fighting Words can be. By inviting young people into a space where they can be themselves, exercise creativity earnestly and without judgment, and receive guidance and affirmation from adults, we can open these children to a world they may never have previously imagined. Time and time again, teachers and students alike are shocked by how much the children enjoy and excel at writing stories. Once freed from the rigid rules and expectations of the traditional classroom setting, students are lit on fire by an enthusiasm for storytelling, writing, and sharing. They are empowered by the knowledge that this skill has always resided within them. The concept of creative writing shifts from a burden to a passion. It is so fulfilling to watch this happen right in front of me– some students start out their individual writing time feeling dejected about having no ideas, but after a few questions from a Fighting Words mentor, they get inspired. Sparks light in their eyes and they’re off to the races, ideas spilling from their mouths faster than their pencils can move. The magic starts in our workshop, but it follows the children back to their classrooms– many continue writing the stories they started with us and retain their newfound enthusiasm for using their imaginations to create. 

Ok, enough work stuff. There have been so many life highlights over the last couple of weeks. As much as I have learned to love my independence and alone time, I am still an extrovert at heart. I have felt overwhelmingly grateful for the moments of friendship I have shared with new and old connections– a fall-themed vegan feast with Faith and Cian (we each brought a course), a night frolic at the dock playground with Natasha (we were disappointed by the slide’s lack of speed), a goofy songwriting session with Elisabeth and Adam (‘Cortado’ out on all streaming platforms soon), a study date at a cool coffee shop with Noelle (we were surprisingly productive!), late night phone calls with Megan and Alana (the 6 hour time difference will not stop us from chatting for 4 hours at a time), a lovely Italian dinner at Villa Italia with Sarah and Kai (with tiramisu for dessert, obviously), a night out for Halloween with Katie and Elisabeth (we all threw costumes together at the very last second), and mushroom soup and Monopoly Deal at Gracie and James’s house (it was so cozy to be in a real home, not student accommodations). 

I have felt the first pangs of homesickness this week– I think wistfully about stick deodorant, Taco Bell, the sun, night drives, and time spent with people who already know and love me well. However, small comforts like well-timed phone calls from home, Trader Joe’s Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cups (brought back from America by my lovely colleague, Aoife), and a weekend in Belfast with Elisabeth Moss rejuvenated me with little familiarity energy-bursts. I have learned that my mental sky does not have to reflect the one outside (which is usually gray), and I have begun the practice of reflecting on my internal weather report at the end of each day. Much like real weather, the mental forecast doesn’t stay consistent all day, but there are always patches of sun or peaceful mist. I’m comfortable holding space for all of my emotions, not just the pleasant ones. There is something so beautifully human about experiencing full-body emotion, allowing it to course through my veins, leak into my writing, permeate my perception. I do miss the sun. But even when I can’t find it in the sky, I am searching for it within my heart. Here’s a poem I wrote about it: 

Hope melts down from the sky

Golden patches fall on

The sun’s favorites

An ivy-strewn bank

An upturned face

She visits, 

But never lingers

We are grateful anyways

I’m writing this blog post on the bus from Dublin to Belfast. My previous bus from Galway was late, so I only had 2 minutes to catch the one I’m currently on. Isn’t travel exhilarating?! 

Work at Fighting Words has been great for the last couple of weeks. I am slowly learning each of the components of a workshop leader’s role, and I’m doing my first practice run of some of those administrative roles next week. I have also begun a very exciting new aspect of my job, where I will get to put my  love of stories and prior work experience to use! Fighting Words’s 10th Anniversary is coming up next year, so my supervisor has asked me to interview some past participants and volunteers about how Fighting Words has impacted them! I’m eager to hear their stories and exercise the old writing muscle. I’ve also had the last week off work, since schools are out for Halloween break (why don’t we have that?!).

I’ve made good use of my time off, visiting Dublin, Galway, and the Cliffs of Moher. Dublin is such a unique city— the vibes there felt completely different from Belfast. It still has the beautiful historic buildings that the rest of Europe does, but it also has a modern, artsy feel. I loved the Dublin Portal, which has a screen that shows live footage of identical portals in other cities around the world. I was traveling with some friends, and we had fun waving to the people on the other side and sharing a brief moment of connection with people we otherwise never would have crossed paths with! Some other highlights were getting licked by a deer at Phoenix Park, filling our stomachs until they were about to explode at Milano, and stopping to enjoy some truly spectacular street performers (my favorites were a jazz duo and a graffiti artist). 

My trip to Galway was my first overnight solo trip, so it was a big milestone for me! I had an amazing time in Galway—it’s definitely my favorite trip I’ve taken since I got here. I made a list of places to visit, but also left plenty of time for wandering. Traveling alone is such a liberating experience. If I think a vintage shop looks cool, I go in. If I have to pee, I stop to find a bathroom. If a random person strikes up a conversation, I engage enthusiastically. I’ve noticed that traveling alone has made me more open and attuned to the people around me. Because I’m not in the travel bubble with anyone else, my head is up and my eyes are wandering. Solo travel is a practice in awareness. I catch hilarious bits of conversation, notice the swirling moods and expressions of the people walking past me, smile at the child dancing to street music. There is a connectedness that comes from having nothing and no one to distract you. 

That is how I started both of my nights in Galway alone and ended them with new friends sitting at my table! On the first night, I went out in search of live music, preferably traditional Irish music. I stopped in 5 or 6 pubs and lingered for a song or two, before continuing my exploration. I landed at The Quays, sipping a pint of Bulmer’s and tapping my foot to the beat of the gifted guitarist’s musical expressions. Before long, two girls came up and asked if they could join me at my table. We struck up a conversation and talked for the rest of the night, exchanging travel stories and getting to know one another (one was from Switzerland and one was from Iceland). I felt instantly comfortable with them, sensing an affinity with the two young women who also enjoy solo travel and the spontaneous interactions that come with it. The second night, I met some girls at my hostel and had dinner and drinks with them, once again feeling delighted by the ease of quick community. The next day, at the Cliffs of Moher, the fog completely obscured the view, but I didn’t even mind! I had so much fun watching everyone giggling to themselves about how silly it was that we came all this way and paid money to stare out into a deep gray abyss. We gave each other knowing glances as we snapped photos of nothing and shrugged our shoulders good-naturedly. I love those moments of wordless connection!

Back in Belfast, I’ve also been having lots of great social and cultural experiences. I finally have some established friendships, and I’m getting to the point where I can just hang out with people without having to prove how fun and cool I am. That being said, I’m still remaining open to any new friendships that come my way! Having cool friends has opened me to cool experiences. I tried Turkish eggs at a nearby brunch spot, shopped at the Asia Supermarket (snack heaven), made personal apple pies with Bramley apples grown in a church member’s backyard, attended a book launch at Queen’s University, watched the fall leaves dance at Ormeau Park, and took in the sensational music, words, and lights of the North Star show honoring Frederick Douglass’s legacy. 

Being in such a colorful city has made me feel very creatively inspired. I’m writing poetry, snapping photos, cross-stitching, singing in cathedrals, and glimpsing art in even the most ordinary of objects. The release from academia has made me more eager to write, think, and create than ever. My reflections lead to evolutions and I feel like a new version of myself each time I publish one of these blog posts. As I’m finishing this post, Halloween fireworks are launching in the Belfast sky outside my bus window. There’s no place I’d rather be. I’m glad I’m me and I’m glad I’m here! 

Eleri x

Well, well, well. Another two weeks have positively flown by, and I have lots to report. 

I am gaining more responsibility at work, and am starting to feel more like a legitimate staff member. I have a general sense of how everything works and I am able to manage my own work flow, instead of constantly following my colleagues around and peppering them with questions. I have begun workshop leader training, so that I can eventually be fully in charge of a workshop. There are a lot of unseen tasks that make a workshop possible, like organizing volunteers, considering additional needs or allergies in the class, making sure every moving part runs smoothly during the workshop, and updating records/procedures afterwards. It’s a balancing act that requires at least 10 mental tabs open at all times– it’s quite a challenge and great fun. Thankfully, they’re easing me into it so that I can learn each part without being overwhelmed. 

Another exciting work update is that I’m helping to develop the materials for Fighting Words’s pilot program for schools residencies. Normally, we only work with any given class once in a year. In the residency program, we will have six sessions with the same classes throughout the year. This gives us the opportunity to observe the students’ growth and development over the course of a whole school year. It’s lovely to hear feedback from teachers about how impactful our one-time workshops can be, but it’s even better to see the results for ourselves. Because the program is brand new and we’re kind of figuring it out as we go, I get to play a role in designing it! I have created materials for activities the children can do between workshops, which are intended to keep the characters fresh in their minds and encourage them to continue to engage with the stories we build together. I have created templates for character interviews, character passports, and tickets to any destination! I made sure to leave the instructions open-ended enough that they can take the assignment in any direction their creativity leads them.

My surroundings continue to fascinate me, and I have discovered more great places in Belfast and beyond. Some of my favorite discoveries this past couple of weeks were Hey Boba (their thai tea is SPECTACULAR), Sunflower Public House (with fiddlers jamming together and pizza so good it made me reevaluate my hatred for vegan cheese), the Botanic Gardens (my favorite plant was a tree with white flowers that looked like burrata), Mike’s Fancy Cheese Shop (I’m sensing a theme here), a vast array of charity shops (with good, bad, and ugly offerings in each), and the Belfast Central Library (I’m now a proud NI Libraries card-holder). 

Since I have Mondays off work, I try to take a day trip every Monday. Last week, I visited Cave Hill, which is colloquially known as the “sleeping giant”. Legend has it that the craggy facial profile created by the rock formations inspired Johnathan Swift to write Gulliver’s Travels. For the first hour or so of my hike, I was completely alone in the wilderness. The sun was out, the leaves sang their wind-rustled lullaby, and the clear air invigorated my body. Gazing at the tufts of golden-lit grass, the calm gray water of the loch below, the cotton-streaked sky above, I experienced the sublime. I was so overwhelmed by the natural beauty and its magnitude that my swirling thoughts were supplanted by electric currents of emotion. Now I get how Maria felt in The Sound of Music, because I truly wanted to sing and twirl (I restrained myself, with great effort). 

This past Monday, I went on a bus tour that traveled along the coast of Northern Ireland and ended at the Giant’s Causeway. The tour guide, Karl, was hilarious, patient, and very knowledgeable– all the things that you want a tour guide to be. We stopped at harbors, Game of Thrones filming locations, castles, restaurants, and distilleries. All throughout the day, Karl repeated the reassurance, “Don’t be worrying!” Don’t know where the toilets are at this stop? Don’t be worrying! Karl can point you in the right direction. Hungry? Don’t be worrying! Karl knows where to get the best ice cream in Northern Ireland. As someone who is quite prone to worrying, I loved his constant reminders. Karl put into words what I have been slowly learning over the last month: uncertainty is an inevitable component of adventure, but there’s no need to panic about it. The more that control has been seized from my hands, the happier I have been to relinquish it. I think “don’t be worrying” will be my motto while I’m here. I have tried so many new things with new people: book clubs, coffee dates, Oktoberfest, recipes, Boxercise, hair dye, GPS-less wandering, Gliders, baps, high church, small talk with strangers, Malaysian hot pot, Irish slang, the list goes on… As I’m sure you can imagine, not everything has gone perfectly, but don’t be worrying. I’m all the better for it!

Until next time,

Eleri x

     Hello again! The last two weeks have zipped past, and I honestly can’t believe it’s already time to write another update. Life has been beautifully full and chaotic, so I’m going to update you categorically, instead of chronologically.  

     First, a work update! I am still loving my work at Fighting Words, and I learn lots every day. Last week, I attended a networking event that was arranged for arts organizations to connect with businesses and corporations to discuss possible partnerships. It was great to meet some other people doing arts work in Belfast and to learn how to summarize the work we do at FWNI in a succinct and engaging way. I also got to help out with my first Write Club meeting. Write Club is a space for young writers ages 12-18 to write together, share ideas, and get feedback from the club mentors and their peers. My role was to open the workshop with a writing prompt and to give feedback on the students’ work at the end of the writing time. The students shared all kinds of things: one shared a gripping chapter of a novel and another read a poem inspired by a short story she has been working on. I was in awe of their creativity and commitment to writing, as well as their support for each other. 

     I have continued to facilitate storymaking workshops, gaining new responsibilities and confidence in my roles. I started out by participating as a typist, transcribing the children’s ideas so they could see them on the screen. I also gave feedback to the students on their individual writing during the second part of the workshop. Most recently, I have begun to do character building, which is the portion of the workshop where we assist the children in brainstorming and choosing ideas for a main character and their greatest wish, greatest fear, and best friend. For each category, we develop three ideas, and for each idea, we ask questions to help them flesh it out. For example, if a child suggests that our main character could be a bear, I might ask what the bear’s name is, or whether this bear has any special powers. My aim as a character builder is to affirm the children’s ideas by helping them develop them further without imposing any suggestions or bias of my own. This is quite difficult, because I don’t want to “lead the witness”, but there are also times when the child feels stuck and needs a gentle nudge to resume their creative process. As I have practiced character building, I have begun to understand more instinctively when I should push a child to share more and when I should back off, how I can encourage them to pivot from an idea that is unoriginal or too dark without making them shut down, and what kinds of questions to ask to help an idea blossom. It’s nice to be able to mark my growth while also striving to keep improving. 

     Outside of work, I have been finding the balance between self-care/rest and exploring my new surroundings! Some notable Belfast experiences have been strolling through St. George’s Market with an old friend on a Saturday morning, trying a burrito from Boojum (Belfast’s less-good version of Chipotle), realizing just how terrifyingly much the Albert Clock leans, going on the ride at the Titanic Museum (thankfully it is not a reenactment of the sinking of the ship), poring over the gorgeous artwork in the Dockers and Dolls exhibit, and taking the History of Terror walking tour which featured personal stories from the history of The Troubles (coincidentally, there were four people from my hometown also on the tour!). As a person who is quite in love with following threads to discover origins, I am delighted to be in a city where each building and cobblestone holds centuries of stories and significance. 

     Aside from exploring Belfast, I also took a day trip to Derry. This was particularly exciting because I’m a huge fan of the show, Derry Girls. The day was a practice in spontaneity from the start– I had booked a bus tour of Northern Ireland, but I overslept and missed it. I refused to let the day go to waste, so I got ready as fast as I could and sprinted to the train station to catch the 10:30 am train to Derry. When reality diverges from my carefully laid plans, I try to find what opportunities my new path has opened up for me, instead of dwelling in disappointment about missing out on the original plan. There were so many things that made me believe I was meant to be in Derry that day; none of it was planned, yet I kept stumbling across things that meant a lot to me. I was feeling frantic on the train, but then I made friends with a girl my age who had just moved to Belfast, too. I have been looking for a nice copy of Jane Eyre (my favorite book) for a long time, and I found a beautiful copy in a charity shop for £3.50. I stopped to admire the wildflowers growing alongside a cathedral, and ended up having a lovely conversation with an 80-year-old nun named Rosemary. I decided to take a turn off the peace wall that I was walking along and stumbled across a cluster of murals. I’m a girl who loves a plan, but that day was a stark reminder of the joy that an openness to change can bring. 

     In the spirit of change and new beginnings, I box-dyed my hair last night! I’m officially ready for fall in Belfast, a place which is quickly becoming dearer to me. There have been so many moments where I have been filled with joy and belonging here, even in the newness: in an overpriced tiramisu latte on a sunny day, in the rich harmony and dissonance of the voices in my women’s choir, in the sweaty exhaustion of weekly boxing classes, in the rare, but spectacular tendrils of morning sun on my rumpled bedsheets, in the giggles and promise of future hangouts with new friends, in strawberry jam on crumpets and beans on toast, in windswept hair and seagull friends by the riverside, in the music and scents that are becoming inextricably linked to this time of my life. Each passing day brings change, and I embrace it!

Until next time,

Eleri xx

     One week ago, I landed in the George Best Belfast City Airport. I was sweaty, deliriously sleep deprived, and eager to begin my life here. Expecting the nightmarish winds and torrential rain of lore, I was pleasantly surprised when a light breeze greeted me and gentle sun rays warmed my face. Once I arrived at my new home, I sat and enjoyed the beautiful view from my window for a while– to the right, I could see the beautiful buildings in city center, and to the left, I could see the rolling green hills that surround Belfast. I was filled with awe and joy that this is my life now, and I vowed not to become numb to the magic of this place.

     My first few days were full of mundane tasks to get my room and kitchen set up, but I was far from bored. As I walked to buy hangers and towels from Primark, I drank in the vibrant colors of Belfast; there’s a mural around every corner, cheery flower pots hang under store awnings, and bright lights adorn every alley. This city brims with creativity and community, and I now get to participate in it.

     On Sunday, I decided to visit a church near my flat. It was built in 1816, and I imagined generations of churchgoers sitting in my place while I studied the intricate stained glass windows and let the ethereal choral notes wash over me. After church, I stayed for tea and a chat, and everyone was friendly and welcoming. Two old Irishmen, Billy and Frances, invited me to lunch with them at a nearby cafe. We enjoyed fish and chips together, then visited the Ulster Museum. They spent the whole day regaling me with tales of Belfast past, which gave me a picture of what this city has been and how it has changed. I was struck by the kindness of these strangers who were so welcoming and enthusiastic about sharing their city with me. It was a good reminder that the opportunity for spontaneous adventure is always around the corner, if only I am willing to say yes to it. 

     Monday was my first day of work at Fighting Words. They very kindly let me come into work late because they knew that I was still fighting the jet lag demons (I have now finally adjusted). My supervisor, Aoife, spent the first whole day introducing me to Belfast and Fighting Words. She took me through a practice storymaking workshop, walked me around the area to show me a nearby coffee shop and park, and gave me an overview of all the work we will be doing. On Tuesday and Wednesday, I got to participate in virtual and in-person storymaking workshops. During the two hour workshops, we take the children through the process of writing an original story. We start off by making a list of story “ingredients”, then brainstorm ideas for the main character, the main character’s greatest wish and greatest fear, and a best friend or villain. The children have brilliantly creative ideas, like an immortal piece of toast named Bob or a mischievous hamster named Chubby. Next, we write Chapter 1 of the story as a group, with the children taking turns crafting the story line by line and ending the chapter on a cliffhanger. Finally, we give them half an hour to write their own Chapter Twos. Their imaginations overflow, and chatter rises in the room as they excitedly share their ideas with their classmates and mentors. We guide them when they get stuck, asking open ended questions to help them develop their characters, dialogue, and plot points. At the end of the workshop, a few children read their Chapter Twos to the class, and they often have pictures to share as well. I cannot even put into words what a fulfilling experience these workshops are. Seeing kids who have previously dreaded reading and writing light up with the realization that they have the ability to tell stories of their own is such a special moment to be present for. Yesterday, one child even asked if she could keep writing chapters of the book and bring them back to show us. Even though most classes only do one workshop per year, I know that the workshops’ impact is deep and lasting for many of the students. 

     At the end of week one here, I could not be more content. I have met kind people, enjoyed meals with roommates and new friends, explored new parts of the city on foot and on transit, learned lots in my new workplace, and already begun to feel at home here.

Back soon with more updates!

Eleri xx

It’s almost time for my adventure to begin! Two weeks from today, I’ll be stepping off the plane in Belfast. I’ll be wearing everything that doesn’t fit in my suitcase (I’m talking multiple winter coats), so I will definitely not be putting my best fashion foot forward. 

Let me catch you up on my preparations for the move– it’s been a busy summer. Since receiving the joyful news that I would be going to Belfast, I have been making lots of arrangements to ensure that my transition in September is smooth. My main accomplishment has been procuring a UK visa, which involved reading the entirety of the UK immigration website, bothering my endlessly patient partner organization with a bunch of forms to fill out, paying lots of money, and even taking a little road trip to the Cincinnati USCIS Office. I’m happy to announce that I finally have that hard-earned stamp in my passport, so I can finally breathe for the first time in 3 months. I also applied for an international credit card (with no foreign exchange fees!), secured housing (I’ll be living with college students in Northern Belfast), bought a plane ticket (departing on 9/11), purchased a UK phone plan (excited to have the +44 prefix), and got a Belfast transit card (can you tell I’m extremely Type A)? 

Aside from handling the practical things, I have also done a lot of emotional processing and transitioning over these past few months. I knew that this could be my last summer living in Nashville, which has been my home for the past four years, and I wanted to hold space for the magnitude of this change. In my last days there, I lingered in wistful goodbyes and reflected on cherished memories. I visited places that held meaning for me, ceremonially experiencing “lasts” (last church service at Belmont United Methodist, last walk at Shelby Park, last drive down Belmont Blvd, last Chocolate Milk Latte at Sump Coffee Co, etc). My heart brims with love for the city that has remolded me! The physical space and the people within it have forever changed me and my trajectory, and it is quite bittersweet to realize that we will now be evolving separately. I will never be this version of myself, in this city, in this phase of life, with these people, ever again! Instead of feeling daunted or disappointed by that reality, I am invigorated. I feel confident in my choice to leave and excited by the prospect of a new environment. I know that moving to a new country alone will not be easy– it will probably be isolating and stressful at times. However, I am sure in the friends and family who are rooting for me, my ability to find wonder in the ordinary, and the joy that will come from doing work which impassions me. 

I stand where I am today because someone taught me to love stories as a child; now, I am ready to pass that love to students in Belfast. At Fighting Words, I will facilitate story workshops, empowering children and illuminating their ability to expand their own creativity. I will also lead a creative writing club, strengthening young writers’ skills and supporting their growth. I cannot wait to meet the students and my colleagues at Fighting Words– I know I’m going to learn so much! 

Until next time,

Eleri xx

a picnic with friends right before I left Nashville

a gorgeous Nashville sunset to see me off

a hopeful and timely message!