June, or: how I learned to stop being a hater

    Dear EN502,

    Happy July! The skies have been hazy recently. Last week I looked out my dining room window and saw some sort of particulate matter billowing through the trees in giant clouds. I thought it was a dust storm. Or wildfire smoke. “WHAT IS THAT,” I shouted in the direction of my roommate.

    In a tone of absolute unconcern, she replied, “just pollen.”

    It’s pollen season in the Rockies. Every conifer tree and their mother are producing a fine, neon yellow powder that gets sent out in plumes from the gentlest breeze. Everything, inside or outside, is coated in a fine layer of pollen. I’m breathing and eating it (I try not to think about that). My snot is yellow.

    The days are getting warmer now, too. It rained almost every day through June, which kept temperatures below 60F. The past few days have clawed their way into the 70s, which has prompted both humans and mosquitos to swarm everywhere in the park. I miss the cooler, rainy days – I feel like my skin is peeling off my bones in the heat. 

    My days at the boat inspection station have been a nonstop barrage of people, watercrafts, and data collection (during peak season we can get anywhere between 200 and 300 boats a day). Nothing notable for the most part, just families taking advantage of the good weather, but sometimes I’ll get someone who makes me go, are you for real? Like when an old guy patted me on the shoulder and said “good girl” when I handed him a proof of inspection card. Or when another old guy asked me where I was from.

    “Montana,” I said.

    “Where are your parents from?” He asked, without missing a beat. 

    I had a feeling I knew where this was going, but I wanted to make him say it out loud, so I asked, “What do you mean?”

    “Well, you’re Asian,” he said. “I wanted to know from where.”

    I immediately called my crew lead after he left and told her everything. I’m so glad I’m not twelve anymore; I had a habit of bursting into angry tears when people only cared about my ethnicity. Now I just feel irritated and tell all of my supervisors to get them to do something about it.

    Thankfully, one buffer between myself and men (always the men, never women) who overstep their bounds are my Pit Viper sunglasses. Pit Viper is a brand that exclusively makes flashy, tinted, mirrored, oversized, and generally in-your-face sunglasses (and other apparel – I highly recommend looking at their website). They weren’t as popular in Boston so I didn’t wear them much, but now that I’m back in the glorious Wild West I get compliments from every other boater that passes through (again, mostly men). The best-case scenario for when I wear them is the boys look nervous and say a few extra pleases and thank you’s. Older men look confused and make fewer questionable comments. Thank you, Pit Viper.

    Life outside work has been good, finally, really good. My feelings of loneliness and isolation are gone now, due in part to a conversation with my therapist and a mindset change:

    “I prefer hanging out by myself over being with other people,” I said during one of my sessions. “Also, I think I’m a hater.

    Just google pictures of bears on the internet, I used to shout through my (closed) car windows as I drove by hordes of tourists on the side of the road, craning their necks to get a good look at a bear and her cubs.

    “That’s a defense mechanism,” he replied. 

    His recommendation: go out, socialize, and immerse myself in the experiences and culture of Wyoming. “When in Rome,” he said.

    What culture? I wanted to retort, then remembered I was trying not to be a hater anymore.

    A switch flipped in my brain a week or so ago when I attended a potluck gathering for the Science and Resource Management (SRM) park staff. I had longer conversations with people I’d only seen in passing and also met a few people who climb. They invited me to go with them right after the SRM event and, thinking of my therapist’s advice, I said yes.

    That night after climbing was the first time I enjoyed my drive home since getting to the Tetons, and the first time I looked at the soft, sunset-colored clouds and mountains and thought to myself, I feel happy.

    Every day since then has gotten easier and easier. I’ve been saying yes to more events, and spending time with more people, and enjoying my summer.

    I resisted making connections with others for so long because I knew I’d be leaving in three months. What’s the point of caring for new people if our time together is so short?

    I now answer with this cheesy quote: “it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

    What is life if not to love and then leave, again and again and again?

    I have more to share, but I’ll leave it here, for now. In the meantime, keep praying for rain (because nothing makes tourists flee the scene faster than the sound of thunder).

    Currently listening to: Olivia Rodrigo’s new single, Vampire. It’s SO good. I am also listening to the podcast, Was I in a Cult? When I’m not listening to it I’m thinking about it (cults are everywhere. Like pollen).

    With peace, teeth, and love,

    Hanna

pictured: pollen in the lake & air