Writing with Juliet Iwelunmor

I remember vividly my first day at UNESCO. It was my first job after all following my doctoral degree from Penn State. I remember every single footstep from my apartment at that time at Tour with Mama Yannick all the way to train station for a 45minute ride down to Paris, to station Garibaldi and then the gates of UNESCO. These moments are forever etched in my memory. I love the movie The Devil wears Prada and so that line, a million girls would kill to have this job, kept ringing in my mind. My ventures into UNESCO were special, turbulent, but still special in the end. It was there I realized why I needed to do more with my talents beyond the shinning glare of what it means to be a UN worker. It was also there that I wonder what other job would give me an office view that was so sterling and full of meaning. Everyday, following the move of our unit to Place de Fontenoy, I was blessed to see Tour Eiffel and La Defense at my window. I also reminded myself too that a million people would kill to see this view every single day.

When it was time to leave UNESCO, that view of Tour Effiel and La Defense, came with me back to the US and to my next job at university 1. When university 1 took me to my office, they took me to what could only be described as a basement office as it had a high window that looked more like an egress window and certainly no view. I left Tour Effiel and La Defense for a windowless office at the bottom of a building. It was there that I knew I had to make the most of my time in this thing called academia. So I gravitated towards writing, all sorts of writing, so as not to perish. However, grant-writing would capture my soul. Maybe it was the idea of being at the bottom after having so much grace and a window view of Tour Effiel. I knew no one would kill to have job number 2 so I became focused on hopefully leaving the basement to an office with any view. By the time job number 3 came, I was taken to an office with a view that overlooked a traffic light and a street intersection. At least there is some view, was all I could mutter even though the office itself was a mess. The roof leaked, the pipes next to the wall also leaked and we all worked in that office for years never wondering whether we mattered to those in power. If we did, no one would be working there. But nonetheless with the advent of the pandemic, I began to work full time at home and never actually stepped a foot in that office, except to pick up things here and there.

Yesterday, I walked into the office space for job number 4 and I said a little prayer of thanks to those up in heaven looking out for me. To see Forest Park, the trails where I ran with my husband, where my children ran along and played with their paper kites, to see it as my office view, is a gift that reminded me once more of my Paris office view. I know change is hard, and transitions from one university to another is equally harder, but it’s these little things I cherish. This view of Forest Park as my own.