02 September 2011
Autobiography
I am not exactly at the point in my life that I thought I would be at age 26, but I am in the process of traveling down the path that will direct me to where I want to be in the future. My life has been far from difficult, although I have had my fair share of hardships and tribulations over the years. I am a licensed cosmetologist, a graduate of a Le Cordon Bleu culinary institute, and am on my way to becoming a registered veterinary technician. Knowledge is my passion and my curse, because learning as much as I can about every subject I encounter consumes me. I have lived in the suburbs, in downtown Chicago, and now I live on a farm. Every single experience I have ever had has molded me into the woman I am today, and my experiences will continue to mold me into the woman I will become in the future.
In high school, I attended cosmetology school part-time, attending half days during my junior and senior years, to prepare to take my state board examination immediately after graduation. I had graduated at the top of my cosmetology class, passed the state board examination with ease, and was offered a position in a salon almost instantly. I worked in a few salons over the next two years, and decided to retire from the industry at the ripe age of 20 years old. I had moved out of my parent’s house and into a house with my then-current boyfriend, and five of our friends. The house gained a reputation for being a party house, and although I was only 20 years old, I enthusiastically partied as if it was going out of style.
Nightly partying soon came to bore me, and I grew tired of living in the dramatic, unchanging atmosphere of the party house. The relationship with my boyfriend had soured over the desire to change my lifestyle, and I soon moved back into the comfort of my parent’s home. Without any serious financial responsibilities, I had the luxury of jumping around from job to job, and continued to drink and party on the weekends. At the age of 21 years old, I was working three jobs, and with very few bills to pay, my savings account was climbing quickly. As one would expect, working three jobs quickly grew tiresome, and I desired a change of scenery to refresh my senses. I decided that I wanted to visit Toronto, and immediately made travel arrangements. Toronto was the fresh breath of air that I needed to rejuvenate my passion for learning, and it helped to pave the way to the next chapter in my life.
I came back from Toronto with a vigorous inspiration, and the experience urged me to move to Chicago to attend culinary school. Less than a week after my 23rd birthday, I was in my Chicago apartment, unpacking boxes, and preparing for my first day at The Cooking and Hospitality Institute of Chicago. Chicago was new, fun, and exciting, and the first six months I spent there were intoxicating. Time seemed to whiz by as I took in the sights, sounds, and atmosphere of the bustling city, all while soaking up the knowledge for a culinary degree. Upon completing culinary school, I acquired a job in a cupcake bakery in the heart of The Loop, where I worked for over a year. During that time, I had stumbled upon a television show on the local PBS station, called Going Green, and one of the episodes featured a couple who had started a small, self-sustaining, suburban farm outside of San Antonio. Seeing this segment was a momentous event, which sparked an entire revolution in my head, and I could not get the idea of having my own farm out of my mind; it consumed my dreams, as well as my every waking thought. I decided that owning my own self-sustaining farm was the next venture in my life, and I immediately began researching properties, livestock, and agriculture. Within a week, I had enrolled myself at Harold Washington College, a community college in the heart of downtown, with the intention of studying horticulture, since there were no agricultural degrees offered in the area.
I had a friend from middle school with whom I had lost contact with over the years, and been reunited with over Facebook, that lived on a farm in my hometown, so I contacted him to chat about the farm lifestyle. We talked for almost an hour, and during the conversation he had invited me to come and visit the farm the next time I came home to visit my parents. The experience I had on Travis’s farm was almost surreal: I had become used to the concrete jungle, in which every figment of nature was carefully constructed and plotted by man, and then there I was, amidst 90 acres of Mother Nature’s greenery. I returned to Chicago with a new view of the world, and a new view of where I wanted to be in that world, which was far from the city. Travis and I talked on the phone every night for months, as I required daily farm reports for updates on the chickens and the growth progress of the vegetable garden. I found myself falling in love with him, and I was spending every possible moment back in my hometown, to be with him on the farm. He also started visiting Chicago frequently, and it got to a point where we were scheduling every one of our free moments to be together. My first visit to the farm had been in May, Travis and I had started dating in June, and when the summer semester at Harold Washington College had ceased at the end of July, I was packing up my boxes to start my life on the farm.
I have lived on the farm for over a year now, and am currently raising a flock of 35 chickens, tending a 900 square foot vegetable garden, as well as working part-time and attending school full-time. Farm life is a lot of hard work, although the abundance of rewards is worth more to me than I can describe with words. In Chicago, the only space I occupied that I could call my own was my bedroom, and now I have a 90-acre playground outside my back door. My experiences in Chicago changed my perception of the way I see the world, and every day on the farm affords me a new perspective on the life I want to live. I look forward to the experiences that await me, and the changes that they will inspire in me, and the woman that they will shape me into becoming.
