For the author, who
graduated in May,
the surf’s been up
ever since a
November day in
2004 when she
decided to get off
and explore. All
she’ll catch in front
of Wilson Library is
odd looks, but she
has imagined a
future as limitless as
the ocean.
follow the fireflies back home.
Next:
I graduated this year, and people are
always asking me what’s next, what will I
do with the rest of my life?
Postcards and images of people and
places flash in my mind, but no single portrait streams together in a way that I can
articulate into a life plan. At some point, I’ll
return to Limon and surf with my girls and
run another camp somewhere — maybe at
the secret spot in the north. I want to go
back to Leon, Nicaragua, my favorite city,
and stay a while; I want to buy a VW van
with Sharp and paint it bright yellow and
drive up the left coast of South America.
When Fidel dies, I’d like to be in Cuba. I
want to work on an organic farm, and on a
vineyard, bartend to get by, or become a
scuba instructor.
It’s important for me to understand
Latin American politics and the role the
U.S. has played. I want to hang out with
Peace Corps volunteers on the beaches of
El Salvador again. I will work with kids
and with women and contribute something to be determined while there.
I will learn and read classics and paint
and write.
Then I will come back to America in
2008 and work on a presidential campaign,
maybe go to graduate school and, if it feels
right, I could become a professor … of
sociology, or history? In American studies?
Sexuality studies? Women’s studies? I might
live all over the country for a while or
work for a nonprofit organization in the
Triangle. I’ll be here and there for at least
some part of my life. When people ask me
what I want to do after college, I just say I
want to do a lot of things.
I want to hang
out with Peace
Corps volunteers
on the beaches
of El Salvador
again. I will
work with kids
and with women
and contribute
something to be
determined
while there.
ELIZABETH BASNIGHT ’07 began writing
this story for a creative nonfiction class taught
by Bland Simpson ’ 70. The course section
was titled “The Literary Mind in the Natural World.”
