The middle of the semester is never an easy time. My cell and molecular neuroscience take-home was looming, I was studying, and I felt slightly burnt around the edges. Cast into this whirlpool, though, was my decision to present at the Ford conference in mid October. And so I skipped a day of class to head out on a Thursday. It'd be my first trip to D.C.

The only person I'd know there would be Lisa. She's also an American Indian, and still claims that without my help she wouldn't have gotten the Ford fellowship and had to drop out. I'm glad that wasn't the case, because I wasn't expecting the warmest reception. I look white because, frankly, I'm mostly White--and I didn't know how the organization would take that.

I'd quickly come to realize that we'd get nothing but the royal treatment. The airline I rode on had leather seats, for instance. And Ford paid for the very taxi I took to get to the Marriott on the lip of Georgetown. I ended up bumping into conversation with a graduate nursing student looking at dietary manipulations and junior high achievement. We got on thick as thieves. She was in town because her boyfriend had moved for a job. I explained my own interests in diet and cognition, gave her my e-mail, and exited up to my room. No word to this day, but it was cool to know people in different disciplines had the same interest I did.

So I found myself in a double. No one else's stuff there. I called down to the concierge desk and asked if they knew when my roommate would be coming in. There was a pause. The woman then told me I was the only one checked into the room. That was when I knew this organization was loaded. I had my own DOUBLE for the weekend.

I met up with Lisa shortly thereafter and we had tapas someplace in Georgetown. Tapas is a foreign word meaning 'small appetizer dishes that each cost as much as a meal.' It was fucking ridiculous how much our meal cost. But y'know what? Ford covered it. We walked around for awhile afterward, talking about her family life, research, how D.C. seemed pretty damn cool, and her history with the place. Apparently she'd had a job there for several years before being a grad student. So I had a guide who used to be a local. She was exhausted and turned in early, though.

I had only one thought on my mind: "I must photograph this whole damn thing for all it's worth." And hell yes I did. The bridge leading to Georgetown (which is almost mystical in its beauty), the park around the bridge, various 6 story stone stairways, oddly inclined streets. I did it all until 1. And got up at 7:30.

It ended up being a routine that Lisa and I would get together prior to boarding the bus to the National Academies building. It was much more comfortable knowing someone already, and we both figured it didn't make much sense to socialize/network where no one in our specializations or locality was at. On the first day my initial thoughts were confirmed: most people looked far more ethnic than I did. I'd say 2/3's were African-Americans, most of the rest Latino/a, and a handful of Indian folk. Most of us were a pale bunch. My excuse is that my Cherokee and Aleut ancestors were fair-skinned to begin with.

Honestly, though, I never received a single disparaging look or remark. On the contrary, everyone was a respectful and downright admirable human-being. There was always this feeling that we'd all made it somehow, that we were this extremely special group of people. I guess I didn't appreciate why until I heard Kevin Mackey, the keynote speaker. He was the associate prof of Engineering that was showcased on Spike Lee's Hurricane Katrina documentary for HBO. My God, he was one of the best speakers I have ever heard. The indignation of what the government hadn't done came in full force. His anger was palpable, his hope solid and real. He talked about all of the bias and bullshit he'd put up with in Academia. I was amazed. I was fucking appauled. He talked about how his own journey from the ghetto to becoming a prof, and the hardships he encountered. It was like that for every one of the people in that auditorium. Academia and the world at large were full of lions, he said. We, by contrast, were cheetah cubs. Lions inherently prey on cheetah. They 'hate' the cheetah. Ford's mission was to save these cheetah cubs from the predation of apathy and a system that fucks the poor, the minority.

And as I listened, I reflected on my past, how my mom would work herself half to death on stained glass, how that plus what we got on welfare was just enough. It brought up a host of painful memories: the useless musician boyfriends, never getting her help on school work, the drug dealer we unknowingly lived with. It made me remember how close I'd come to being just another worthless piece of trash, and the moment where--just like him, just like Lisa--I'd decided I was better than the context in which I was put.

It made me realize and remember what I had done to get to this point.

The rest of the day, and the second conference day, consisted of a pretty orderly schedule:

*Keynote talks in the morning
*Reception with lots of food and drink
*General talks in the late morning
*Break with lots of food and drink
*Workshops for specific interests
*Break for lunch and drink
*More workshops
*Dinner and an open bar

I mean, they treated us like royalty.

On the first or second day I did have to present that poster deal. Trouble was, my poster was much, much too big for the space I'd been given. I'd also used it before, so it'd been rolled and kept rolling up on me. No matter what I initially tried, it kept folding, kept shaking off all the thumbtacks I put in. I missed the first two general talks that day, getting more and more exasperated but completely un-fucking-willing to give up. Finally, I had the insight to put two corkboards together on the floor, stick about 40 pins in around the whole poster, then jury-rig a few easels so that my poster was vertical instead of horizontal. It held. It stood. I rushed back and caught the end of a shitty sociology talk.

No harm done.

I ended up getting two immunologists and a host of engineers and humanities folk during our '30 minute' presentation window. Ended up being 2 hours. I quickly developed a pat summary, often times going into it right as I was saying bye to a person or two. They found it amusing, but hey, you go with what you know. The immunologists brought up shit I didn't understand. That's ok. I'm a half-assed immunologist by training. "Did you look at any MHC Class 2 factors?" one asked. If ever that was a sweat drop anime moment, that was it.

But the work part of the conference was cool.

The afterwards parts were equally as cool. On the 2nd afternoon, Lisa and I surveyed all the monuments near the Lincoln Memorial. I have tourist photos a-plenty, because it's D.C. and I had a jones for being an American that day. Lisa and I regailed each other with how much of a total geek we both were. Our favorite exhibit at the science museum, for instance, was the original Star Trek ship model in the gift shop of the Smithsonian. I also bought freeze dried ice cream. The register woman was the most curious I'd ever come across. I was made to swear that I wouldn't eat the ice cream until I got out of the museum. And that I wouldn't turn people into various creatures. Well, until she got to dragons. "Would you turn your friends into dragons?" she asked. My reply--which I'm still proud of--

'Only if they wanted to be' with the upraised forefinger, amused voice.

Oh, and I wasn't to eat the ice cream until after "launch." Not lunch. Launch. What a bizarre encounter.

The only other curious conversations I kept having was with this medical oncology student from Harvard Medical School. That was kinda intimidating, considering she actually knew the lingo I spoke. But we talked about, uh, analyzing subjects post-mortem. And the grad school experience. Truth be told she made me uncomfortable. And yet we ran into each other on at least 6 different occasions. Randomly. At least to me it was random.

The only other worthy memories of note were sitting with Lisa in the hotel hot tub. We talked more about personal stuff, reflected on the conference, and people watched. There was a middle America family swimming one night, where a small girl was vaulting into her father's arm in the shallow end. This amused and greatly pleased two Japanese ladies that played audience for quite awhile. It was really cute. He'd spread his arms, she'd giggle madly, then fling herself at him. He was a beefy bloke, too. I only felt slightly guilty that my very married with two kids friend looked really good in a bikini. She hadn't been that thin since she was 18 and walking 10 miles a day to get to work, she said. (again with the past hardships and cheetah cub thing). I was still surprised and happy I'd stayed thin. Not as thin as I would have liked, but eating breakfast had screwed up my routine for the semester.

We ended up having another dinner and coffee and dessert night out on the 2nd night (saturday). Mainly we talked about society, how damned rush everyone seems nowadays, her own situation in not seeing her husband much (where he works all the time), being amazingly glad to have some time away from caring for her sons but missing them a lot, etc. The subject of children came up a decent amount. I've recently discovered I really like kids; call it getting older or something biological going off, but I'm fascinated and joyful about their learning and interaction with things. So I asked a lot about the experience of being a mom and a parent in general.

Yeah.

Let's not forget I play and dance to goth rock for the dead in cemeteries and semi-occasionally put my life in danger to get a shot. And drive shizoaffective jewish guys to buy an energy drink at 2 in the morning. I'm not domestic.

GAH. Speaking of which. Two photography stories about D.C. On the first night, I was taking shots of a bike path along a stream, beneath the bridge to Georgetown. A guy on a bike passed by a few times. One of these times he got off and started a conversation. Apparently he was the drummer for a band that ripped ass and they needed a photographer. I unsuccessfully tried a few times to tell him a few times I wasn't from D.C. Finally he kinda understood. "Well there's no harm in askin'," he said.

He was cool. The group of drunk 20-somethings who took shots of the 6 story staircase leading down that I was using were also cool.

Then there was the bum army.

I'd gone farther along the bike paths, beneath older bridges. I was slightly drunk off of Shiraz at this point, it being 40 minutes post-drinking with Lisa and showing her my photography. I passed by some bums with such a 'I don't give a fuck' attitude that they didn't seem to take notice. I went about 1/4 of a mile down before setting up shop, where I saw no one around. I set up several shots using me in the photo, where I had to regularly run back and forth from my position to the cam. During the 14th or so take of one shot, out meandered a bum from the darkness.

"Hey man, what you run away for?" He asked.

I think I said something like "I wasn't running away." Not sure.

He wasn't phased by whatever I said. "You were over there, then you saw me and you ran."

Well shit, I thought, I was kinda asking for this.

I smiled over to the guy 15 feet away and said. "No no, man, I'm using myself as a model in my shot. Has nothing to do with you."

It was at that point I instinctively moved to my stuff casually. It was also at this point he began whistling. You know, that whistle you use when you're trying to get the attention of a lot of people. That combined with a way too purposeful look in my direction set me on a 'flight' path. I'd made sure that I had an exit when I'd set up. There was ramp leading up to a street about 150 feet away. In the darkness, from the way I came, I saw several figures coming. I put my camera in my bag, held tight to my tripod, scanned around my area to make sure no one was around me--and then I ran. No. I sprinted as fast as I possibly could. Up the ramp, along back street Georgetown, all the way to the bridge.

I strolled back across and admired the Potomac one last time, then caught the attention of/communed with some things near said Potomac. They were friendly enough. Invited me back in their own way.

That following morning, I had breakfast with Lisa. We'd gotten to know each other really well, and I think the conference was especially great/rememberable because we both made good friends. And considering I just had Thanksgiving with her fam and had her 8 month old, Luke, tug on my beard like he wanted to wear it, I'd say we'll be friends for awhile.

We've got a hell of a lot more to cover for the past month. But I want to play The Godfather on Brian's X-Box and I've been writing for 90 minutes.

I may have had ham instead of turkey today, but I still just wanna lay around right now.

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