A lot can happen in two weeks.

Two weeks ago I had no friends outside of my host family and job, I wasn’t involved in any activities or organizations, and I hadn’t even started my official job. As I write this I have a few friends, I’m a part of several local organizations, and I’ve started my work full-force.

Let me start from the beginning: Scottish Dancing. One fateful Monday night I decided to attend a traditional dance at the Scottish Society, a club for those of Scottish heritage or those interested in Scottish culture that met just down my street. I was desperate to make friends and meet new people, so I decided to pop in with my house mate’s partner, Melissa, since I had nothing better to do. Were Melissa and I the only people under the age of sixty? Yes. But something really beautiful happened at the end of the night: one of the dancers, Nicola, invited me to her church, and it just so happened to be the church that I was planning on visiting that weekend. That following Sunday I met so many kind people and even made a few friends my age. Since then, I’ve started taking fiddle lessons (something I’ve always wanted to do!), joined a football (soccer) club and a running club, started playing at open jams (I would have never done this a year ago), attended my church’s youth group, and formed a full live band. 

This is the church where I take fiddle lessons! What a dream!

There’s something very humbling about starting back at square one. For years I haven’t had to go out of my way to make new friends, but the only way I’ll make any now is to intentionally put myself in social settings. I’m scanning the signs on every lamppost, checking the weekly events at cafes, searching for signs of compatibility in the strangers I pass on the street. It’s exciting to have a major life shake-up. Now is the time I can be all of the versions of myself I’ve always wanted to be but never had the time for, and I’m proud of how I’ve handled it thus far. 

Last week we went to the city library to hang up all the activity sheets I handed out to schools.

This past weekend was the Arts by the Sea Festival, the event I’d been promoting at primary schools during my first few weeks here. Lots of families stopped by to hear more about our charity and engage in some story-based activities. Several adults expressed interest in either helping promote our charity or attending workshops with us, and it dawned on me that I was the one who’d be making these decisions. Our founder, Dee, said that I could design an adult class if I wanted to, even though it’s something we’ve never done before. It’s new and exciting to have all this freedom, but I’ve also been met with the age-old imposter syndrome. I’ve never run a charity before, so I have no idea what I’m doing, but I know that I’m passionate about our charity’s cause and can figure things out. 

Me and our student volunteers at the Arts by the Sea Festival

Something I have struggled with is how to schedule my time and find a good work-life balance: I want to design a new songwriting course and an adult writing group, but that’s extra work on top of my pre-existing work. This job will be entirely what I make of it, so I want to push myself to work hard and try new things, but I also want to enjoy my time here without stressing too much. I’m currently working on finding that happy medium. 

All in all, I’m so grateful that I get to be here, and I’m excited to see how my life will continue to surprise me.

Bournemouth beach 

English majors will get this. Shout out to my ENG 200 class and Dr J. I miss y’all.

Well folks, I made it! I’ve spent nearly a week in England, and it has both been a whirlwind and has stretched by slowly. Let me update you:

The journey there was quite breezy. The last time I traveled internationally by myself, I felt a huge weight once I stepped into the security line and said goodbye to my parents, but this time I felt a lot more relaxed. It’s good to know that this process is getting easier for me. 

Leaving my family at IND

Once I arrived, my host dad, George, picked me up from the bus station and drove me to the house I’ll be staying at for the next nine months. It’s a sweet two-story home on a very traditionally English street: each house is practically indistinguishable sans its door, which tends to be colored brightly to contrast the uniformity found elsewhere. The inside is full of brightly colored walls, pastel sofas, and a diverse collection of abstract art. I quickly met Ed and Sally, the other two who share the home. Sally is a social work professor at Bournemouth University, George is a gardener, and Ed, their son, is a musician. Upon meeting Ed, he showed me his studio, played me a few of his tracks (it’s just like I haven’t left Nashville), and even offered up one of his guitars for me to use during my stay. I felt very welcomed.

My room

Ed’s studio

My first walk into town was less of a welcoming experience: the nearest “high street” (a street lined with shops) was full of boarded up buildings, vape shops, convenient stores, and plenty of places to buy kebabs that did not mirror the image of an idyllic English street I had conjured. I walked past the gloomy shops in my Victorian-looking long skirt and black turtleneck feeling like the most posh person in existence as others stared at me down. I felt like an outsider. 

It’s been hard not to compare Bournemouth to other UK cities I’ve visited or lived in. London, Manchester, and even Belfast cannot compare to here–Bournemouth is a town, not a city, (I learned that a city is classified so by the presence of a cathedral, which Bournemouth does not have) and it won’t have all of the components and activities that a bustling city has. Truth be told, I’ve never lived in a place that doesn’t have an arts theater or a string of local coffee shops within a ten minute drive, so living in a quieter area will be an adjustment. The past week has given me a greater appreciation for the vibrant arts community in Nashville—there’s simply nothing else like it, and I hope to never take that for granted.

Bournemouth Pier from afar

I didn’t have long to settle in before starting the first part of my job: going into primary schools to deliver a twenty minute assembly (presentation) about the Arts by the Sea Festival, a free arts festival sponsored by the government that my organization is helping out with. I was meant to go by myself, but the co-founder of the charity, Tom, offered to accompany me, which had me brimming with tears of relief. The kids were very interactive and enthused, and both my Thursday and Friday presentations went better than expected. Even though workshops have not begun, I already feel privileged to share this festival with children in low-income areas. Like many places in the UK, the arts are underfunded here, and children don’t often get to experience the arts for free. My life would be radically different without arts education, so I’m very grateful to play a small role in expanding that. 

Me before speaking to an assembly of 500 primary school kids

After the assemblies Tom drove me around, and we chatted about the cities we’d lived in and the jobs we’d worked.

“It’s my first time having to really make friends as an adult,” I told him. “I’m curious to see how I’ll do it.”

“Yeah… if you find out, let me know,” he replied. “With all my friends starting families and moving, it’s hard to stay in touch.”

His response was slightly deflating, but honest. This is going to be hard, and I will have to make a very active effort to go out and meet people. I called my parents last night to express my disappointment that I’d found work in Bournemouth instead of somewhere exciting like London or Manchester, but they reminded me that I need to trust and commit myself fully to this project. I must have the courage to seek out the beauty that’s here and to find my place. If I see an area of lack, I have the power, in whatever small ways I’m given, to address it. This place—and all places—are what you make of it, and I’m trying not to see Bournemouth as a place that’s lacking.

A lovely sunset to close out my week