by Ingrid Linquist | April 21, 2021
Riding the metro home from work in Virginia, on my way back to my apartment in the Capitol Hill neighborhood of Washington D.C., I rested my head against an oil smudged window, and thought “is this really what life as a college graduate is like, is this all it will be from here on out?” I knew I was depressed, I just did not know why. I had so many people in my life rooting for me. I had a good job in the field I studied in college, and I was living with my partner in our first shared apartment. To many people, I had “made it”, I had attained all the things many strive to attain after graduation, but I felt more empty than ever before. Little did I know, that would be my last metro ride for over a year and soon I would be forced to make a change.
When Covid-19 hit, I packed up my belongings and moved back to my hometown of Marquette, Michigan, on the coast of Lake Superior. I spent the majority of my time during the summer of the pandemic exploring the forests and beaches of my childhood. Walking freshwater coves, collecting beach glass, smelling cedar and pine bark, healing myself in ways I did not realize at the time, in ways hidden to eyes. After months of unintentional healing and self reflection, fall was on the horizon and I felt it was time to take a step in a new direction.
I had no idea what it was I wanted to do, I just knew I needed to do something. Laying in bed one night, I recalled a conversation I had years ago with someone I went to high school with, a girl named Gwyneth. Gwyneth had told me about how after high school graduation she planned on doing something called “AmeriCorps”, in order to learn more about herself and discover her strengths and interests. When the pandemic hit, I saw on Facebook that Gwyneth was completing her first year of law school at the University of Pennsylvania, so I figured AmeriCorps must have contributed (in one way or another) to her figuring out what she wanted to do with her life.
After a few days of google searching, browsing different type of AmeriCorps service, and positions, I decided I was going to try to be an AmeriCorps VISTA. I wanted to spend the next year in a new state, working at a nonprofit organization, improving whichever community I landed in. Lucky for me, the first place I applied to called me back and told me the person who was supposed to take the role had something come up and could no longer commit. Thus, I was interviewed and offered the position. Within a matter of weeks, I was in my 2008 Volkswagen rabbit, driving U.S. Route 12 to Bozeman Montana.
Moving to Bozeman and serving with AmeriCorps has not all been glitter and rainbows. For example, during my first months of service I was calling DPHHS every week because my SNAP benefits were not working, and I was not getting any SNAP money. At another point the other AmeriCorps VISTA, at the nonprofit where I am serving, quit and I was left feeling abandoned and lost. However, I managed to tough out those hardships, with the help of a lot of privilege and supportive people in my life, and I am now finishing my 8th month of service.
I like to think I wound up in Bozeman for a reason. It seems like I am meant to be here, amid the mountains, in one of the most flourishing nonprofit communities in the country, surrounded by people who have known me less than a year but would go to great lengths to see me succeed. I am grateful, I am proud of how far I have come since that sad night on the metro in D.C., and I cannot wait to see what the final months of my AmeriCorps service term hold for me.