A time to gain, a time to lose.
In this holiday season I’ve been doing what a lot of people are doing — reflecting. Reflecting on life, on love, on the year... because let’s be honest, it’s been one hell of a year.
December 20th, 2019 was a Friday. My husband and I had just returned a few days prior from a much needed holiday to Vienna and Brussels, and we were frantically working on getting everything ready for our annual Christmas trek around the state of VA to see my family. I was exhausted but I chalked it up to jet-lag and returning to work at a start-up. Fast-forward 24 hours and I came to find out that I was pregnant. At 45 years old, pregnancy was the absolute last thing I ever expected. We had tried so hard for a baby in the first few years of our marriage but it never happened for us so we just gave up. We forgot about it, like couples do, and went on living a great life as two successful professionals. So we were beyond shocked when, at my age, this happened. We relished in sharing this special news with close family and I had my first sober holiday season in decades.
After the Christmas rush and a few weeks into the new year, I miscarried. I don’t want to make this article about that, but in those dark moments, I wondered why had the universe been so cruel. What in the world was the purpose of that, I asked over and over, to no one but myself.
Two months later, when the pandemic hit, I decided that I needed something in my life. Like so many others, I tried doing puzzles, baking bread, organizing closets, reading murder mysteries and binging Netflix… generally, whatever it took to pass the time. On a long run, one cold morning in early April, it occurred to me that these side activities were not the answer. I needed to find purpose elsewhere and when I started looking at the various facets of my life, I realized that purpose had been missing, in large part, from my professional life.
Now don’t get me wrong — I loved my team, I was proud of the fact that I finally had gotten the promotion I wanted for most of my career but ultimately, I just couldn’t get excited about the work I was doing. I mentioned in an earlier post that I had been accepted — and turned down — the Presidential Fellowship, two years earlier. The window for the 2021 cohort was still open and several projects had been posted, in order to entice folks to apply. My initial thought was that I would try again and cross fingers for a COVID-focused project. The thing about the fellowship that makes it unique is that it’s not only up to the fellow to pick a project. It’s a bit like dating — it takes both sides agreeing to the project placement in order to get selected and detailed.
After the applications closed, I accepted an interview with a federal agency that I had never heard of (who knew there were SO MANY AGENCIES?!) and crossed fingers that at least one of the two projects that the agency outlined, would be something that would excite me. After two long interviews with folks from two different teams, I sadly didn’t feel the excitement that I yearned for from either one. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed — would this year be a repeat of the prior year that I applied to? I had told myself that if I was going to ever make a change such as this, I needed to be really excited by the work. I needed to really need it. So after some contemplating on next steps, I decided to just let it go, and start looking at other jobs, all within the private sector. The thing about the fellowship, and really any government position, is that it takes an extraordinarily long time to get through the interview process. So I sort of forgot about it as I applied elsewhere. And then I got the email.
It was an invitation to talk to DOJ about their civil rights work. The projects included revamping the ADA.gov website as well as continuing work on the newly launched civil rights complaint portal. And in that moment, I realized that the purpose I was seeking was right there. I had always been interested in accessibility and making the world better for those with disabilities. So many things in our lives are just not designed to include those with physical and mental limitations. Of course, we were also in the middle of the summer of 2020, when finally Black Lives Matter was gaining a toehold and was finally part of the larger long overdue conversation, and for good reason. I have very close friends who were experiencing what I can never claim to know — constant, lifelong racism and injustice and it was all coming to a head. For the first time in years, there was so much clarity around the role and the intense feelings of “I must do this!” … It was the first time in a long time that I felt relief and excitement to potentially become part of something bigger.
After several zoom calls and a few hours talking with the folks on the CRT (civil rights team,) I knew that there was only one job I really wanted and it was this one. In the two months since joining the program, I have had the pleasure of having 1–1s with almost every single PIF in my class. And every single one of them says the same thing — “I came here because I needed, or wanted, something with purpose.”
As we move into the new year, and a new presidential transition, I have vowed to continue to work with purpose. I’m still trying to figure out my “20%” work but I know it needs to get me out of bed every morning, just like my “80%” does. I’ve joined several initiatives to help fellows in other programs through mentorship activities and I’m slated to start a short, several week program, with Harvard to co-teach human-centered design principles through their Social Entrepreneurship Program, starting mid January. I am finally living, or I should say working, with purpose.
So when I look back, I am no longer saddened that I didn’t become a momma earlier this year. I know things happen for a reason and I find solace in believing that the universe had big plans for me this year and beyond. I’ve finally found my calling.
To everything,
There is a season…
And a time to every purpose, under heaven.
