Year in Appreciation
On building homes, internalizing the Fika spirit and finding myself through niches 🌳🔭
tl’dr: three core themes (home, people and self) and the childhood dreams they reminded me to hold onto.
🚲 home: interior designer
This year I got to know three places well: Chapel Hill, North Carolina; Minneapolis, Minnesota; and my home province, Ontario.
In Ontario, I helped my parents sell my childhood home in Toronto and move to Oakville. I also had my very first house built in Saugeen Shores. I lived out of a suitcase, did a midwest road trip, saw New York City and Boston for the first time, lived alone in Chapel Hill, with 5 people and one washroom in Minneapolis, went up the North Shore, swam in 3 great lakes and visited old friends in California.
I learned that a place becomes a home when it sustains you holistically.
🌈 people: events planner
This year I struggled to find belonging and comfort with other people. It led me to some of my deepest feelings of loneliness.
However, by the end of the Fall, I finally felt at peace: having let go of relationships that didn’t serve me and, most importantly, the mindset that I had to have certain types of relationships in my life to be ‘complete.’
But I also reconnected with a passion — creative event planning — and I had a myriad of meaningful conversations, interactions and moments of vulnerability.
🐝self: writer
This year, more than ever, I learned to be alone. I let small things spark my own spirit — candles, looking at license plates, hippie indie music, baking bread, and letting time slip away in bookstores.
I reconnected with the passionate, positive and quirky person I lost trying to squeeze myself into moulds of expectations. There’s the torture of being foreign, but then the gift of letting go (because there are no expectations).
While it’s sad to say I lost a good chunk of this year not ‘being myself’ and recouping from this pain, I have learned my lesson, and I now know, with greater conviction, who I want to be.
Slowly, with new books, Muji pens and a new journal, I started to rewrite my narrative.
“We’ve been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbour”
🌞 And here it is, friends: my 2022 year in appreciation.
Building Homes
a: books and shelves
At the core of a home, for me, are my reading nooks and moments of internalization. In North Carolina, I have a step-ladder-turned-bookshelf with my books displayed. At my parent’s house, I have my book collection organized on three different shelves: absolute favourites, colour-coded novels and technical books. It’s my own little sprawled library.
Reading is vacation. It is what turns a chair, a cushion, or a bed into a piece of home.
There are 4 books, which I read in 4 different spots, that built this for me most this year:
- Code Breaker by Walter Isaacson: my UNC dorm. “She had succeeded where the other technician had failed. ‘It was an incredible moment, and it made me think I could do science.’ ”
- The Day the World Came to Town: my Minneapolis bedroom. “There was no hatred. No anger. No fear in Gander. Only the spirit of community. Here, everyone was equal, everyone was treated the same. Here, the basic humanity of man wasn’t just surviving but thriving”
- Girls of a Certain Age: my Chapel Hill living room. “What I want, desperately, is for someone to sit next to me for a moment and hold my hand and say one kind thing I didn’t know was true.”
- Braiding Sweetgrass: on the beach in Montego Bay, Jamaica. “Our teachings tell us to never take more than half”
Books are more than their words. They are gifts, they are glue, and they are the core of my gratitude. Gifts for others, glue for conversations and my happiness, and gratitude because they contextualize my world and its abundance.
I have decorated my home spaces with books. For example, my favourite Space10 (IKEA’s innovation lab) market report is the ‘wallpaper’ for my bedroom.
My thrifted Gray’s Anatomy 2004 textbook is a statue of art on my nightstand, my Sapiens trilogy waves at me each time I walk out the door and the Little Prince, it reminds me of a part of my favourite poem:
When he drew back
and looked at her, his smile soft with wonder, almost
as though he were a mother still open from giving birth,
as your mother must have looked at you, no matter
what happened after — if she beat you or left you or
you’re lonely now — you once lay there, the vernix
not yet wiped off, and someone gazed at you
as if you were the first sunrise seen from the Earth — Ellen Bass
b: picking out the pillows
By far the hardest goodbye was to the only home I’d known for 18 years. It was the right move for my family: downsizing + taking advantage of the compounded earnings, but it didn’t make the change much easier. All of a sudden, everything in my life became foreign.
Or so I thought.
Moving out of our home also meant moving into a new one: one we got to build. Not construct. The house was there. But we got to build the home.
I got to drive my mom’s car across cities with our old furniture. I got to spend hours in Homesense and IKEA finding pillows and light fixtures to bring cozy energy into our new space. I still had the familiarity of them [my parents, brother and dogs]. Building a future healed the wound of the beloved past.
c: scavenger hunt
day 1: North Carolina, Virginia, West Virginia, Ohio.
day 2: Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa.
day 3: Iowa, Minnesota.
I took a road trip from the South to the Midwest and became obsessed with two things: license plates and Cedar Rapids, Iowa.
I spent the rest of my summer collecting the memory of all 50 states and 10/13 Canadian provinces/territories, and 1 Mexican state license plate. It was a mechanism for me to pay attention and be present.
Next, Cedar Rapids, Iowa. We had the opportunity to stay with my friend’s parents and his sister (thanks Quintin!!) and their love and detailed tour of CR made my heart sing. That’s when I realized the ingredient you need to make a city or town your home: you need to love its quirks so much that you want to evangelize them.
People don’t love Cedar Rapids. They love the 80s arcade x Pizza shop. They smile at Mount Trashmore. They feel warmth thinking about the trollies that once roamed the overly wide suburban roads. A place is a home when you love its quirks.
Living in Minnesota for the summer, I, too, loved its quirks. Specifically, the coffee shops I stumbled on, the way Minnesotans say ‘roof,’ the murals of social justice, the natural lighting at the public library, the honeycomb ice cream in Duluth, the World’s Best Donut shop in Grand Marais and the wild rice at the head of the Mississippi river.
Buff Grace, our internship lead, was by far one of the kindest souls I have stumbled across, and I am so grateful to have learned a great deal from him.
Minnesota taught me that a place could become home in 9 weeks if you do the quirks scavenger hunt.
Our research in Minnesota focused on faith-based climate justice work. I had the opportunity to speak with clergy and people of faith about their commitment to the earth. I am grateful to them for sharing their time and energy with me. I am especially thankful for the Anishinaabe people who welcomed us on their land and shared their traditions with us for a sacred water gathering by Lake Itasca.
d: building a home
In 2021, I put my university savings into a downpayment for a plot of land that would become a house in 15–18 months.
In late July, I got the keys (the inside was finished), and in November, we were done with construction and landscaping!
The house, which has since become a home, is located in a community along lake Huron. It’s not a part of Canada that will ever be on a Lonely Planet recommendation list, and it won’t get enough traffic for Ontario to build a highway towards it: but it is a beautiful place and a beautiful property, 3 bed, 2 bath.
It’s not the biggest or fanciest house on the block.
But it’s something I saw transform from a pile of dirt. I chose the backsplash, the window trims, and the knobs on the doors and with all that, for all I care, it’s a palace.
🏡 This journey has gifted me with many lessons, but if I were to choose 3, here are my bullets:
- Slow Design: in having the privilege of waiting for this house to be built, I had time to collect meaningful pieces. I have slowly thrifted a book collection that highlights Canadian, Ontarian and Female authors, purchased eclectic art pieces and bold furniture items. I’ve learned that my dollar stretches further — and across more dimensions — with intentionality. I am proud and passionate about every particle in the space, and I think that’s a true feat of the design. (Also 7 year-old me is living the DREAM of designing the interior).
- Inward Focus: home is inwards. More inwards than just behind a door or fence. It brings warmth inside our bodies. With the many 3 hour drives north, and the days spent alone inside my place or in the woods, I’ve learned to focus on how the inside feels — both physically with the building but also metaphorically within myself. I think that is where true peace exists. ‘Live a life that feels good, not looks good.’
- Capacity: this asset is financial, but it is also an enabler. I am excited for the personal and social experiences I will enable from this little nook off the Lake Huron forest. It’s also a nurturing point for my capacity. Knowing that my hard work helped me buy the house, it’s a meta-feeling to be pursuing my goals inside of it.
I brought my first guests, my friends Eesha and Frances, to the unfinished but livable home in August. Their company made me internalize how special this thing I invested in is, and it makes me excited to love midwestern Ontario more.
And that is all the homes that have nurtured me this year and hopefully for many more years to come. There really is no place like home.
Internalizing the Fika Spirit
“Now we carry the wounded with no anaesthetic up the stairs because the elevators don’t work” — from the book Anil’s Ghost
I want to work for the wounded.
This quote paints a potent image of the effects of war, poverty and poor infrastructure; contextually, it is from a story that takes place in Sri Lanka during a period of political unrest.
We as a society have discovered technologies and interventions that are life-changing, and I believe it to be our responsibility to give humans equitable access to it.
So this quote: it’s my calling.
I bring it up for two reasons:
🌻 1: Its language is deliberate, self-conscious and concentrated: it is poetry. The line itself is a poem. After taking a poetry class in my spring semester, I have grown a profound love of poetic products. There are two quotes my professor, Michael McFee, said throughout the semester that has stuck with me (and that apply beyond poetry… to the realm of healthcare design in politically challenging contexts, perhaps):
- “If I shake this [poem], what falls out”
- “Make something happen in every line”
🌻 2: This quote is my burning passion. It gives me energy to read, listen, study and open my heart. It’s essential to who I am. But so is my love for Fika — the Swedish concept of coffee and snacks as a social institution, one that deserves immense love and intention. I believe that my appreciation for Fika and my wish and educational dedication to healthcare are one-in-the-same. I take my lessons from Fika, and I apply them to the community aspect of healthcare. I take my lessons from healthcare, and I start a conversation during Fika. It’s all related.
The Fika Spirit
Fika, to me, is about:
- Giving 100% of your energy to the people you are with
- Soaking in and appreciating every sip and bite
- Having a conversation that is not scripted nor competitive nor ego-boosting
- Letting the dots of your experiences connect: i.e., the birth of insights
- Being radically welcoming to others and their journies of life
- The pauses in conversation
- Remembering people’s stories
- Vulnerability
This afternoon with Ula was pure Fika. A beautiful, instant connection and a friendship I am excited for and inspired by.
Happiness is preparing a 70 option menu
A lot of people got to witness #Isabella in #spreedsheetmode or #crazymenumode this year.
I am, in the simplest terms, extremely extra, if not crazy, when hosting. It’s in my collagen, I am convinced.
To quote myself from my philosophical tacos article: “I also really didn’t need 5 different flavours of tortillas [for 7 guests], but it brought me so much joy. Whole wheat, corn, flour, mini flour and tomato lime habanero.”
But that’s me. I’ll invite everyone in town to my house for a party, and I’ll bake cookies for them at midnight. I’ll create bread or banana pudding, and I’ll call everyone I know trying to give it away. I, of all themes, will choose the Nobel Prize for a large gathering.
For my scholarship, we had a weekend for accepted students to visit campus. I emailed to see if I could plan something for the Canadian students.
‘Something’ became hosting all the international students on campus and all the incoming west-coast scholarship winners to the most complicated Mexican takeout menu possible. Everyone got customized burritos, fajitas or nachos, drinks and snacks. It was such an intricate spreadsheet, and I think it was one of my finest days in 2022 (i.e., the part where I got to use my spreadsheet to feed many hungry mouths).
🙏 I am deeply inspired by Michael Raspuzzi and all the lessons he’s shared with me on being a great host.
New York City
I visited New York City for the first time with my friend Elizah. She’s a photographer and captured some wonderful photos for my card game, Boob Blurb.
But it was more than pictures and a girls’ trip to NYC.
Elizah showed me what vulnerability and strength really look like, and for that, I am forever grateful.
During that trip, I also got to see my friend Eric. If angels are real, I am convinced that Eric is one. I am so grateful for our friendship, and most importantly, him being one of the first people to see me as a complete human. (Breaking down in a cave in Utah does that to people).
I’ve spent 9 days of my life in New York City, total. They’ve been more valuable than all my 18/19 birthdays, Easters, Christmases and New Years celebrations combined. Why? Because of the people like Elizah and Eric, but also Luke for his kindness, Noel and Kelle for just being the most amazing people, and kindness from Hayley, Adam, Nazra, Hailey, Aadil, Samson + Ula.
For them, I want to improve my ability to Fika.
California
First, a product of California: my friend Willow. She and I hosted a group of freshmen with an overly elaborate home-cooked meal at the beginning of the semester. That’s Fika to me.
Secondly, thank you to my friends Gracie, Adrienne and Amelia for lighting up California for me this summer. You gave me kindness during a time in my life where it went really far.
A Fika section would not be complete without acknowledging my gratitude to Jen Brown, who was there when I learned of Fika and has been on a Fika-loving journey with me.
As for what’s next… I want to crank up the heat on these crazy, fika-loving, healthcare-passionate parts of myself 🔥
Finding Myself Through Niches
I have very particular and often unusual interests. If I am stressed, I will research baby names or memorize maps of countries, provinces or continents. To have a good night, I will bake something from scratch, listen to country music, read a book by the light of a candle, and go to bed by 9:00 pm. On YouTube, I follow several people’s pregnancy journies, and I essentially have their medical histories memorized. One of my top 10 highlights of the year was writing my Organic Chemistry final.
These, these are the things that bring me joy.
Email is my favourite form of communication. Being early is my core philosophy. I love BINGO.
I probably sound like your grandma! I love it that way. I am also getting more comfortable being this way [and not trying to camouflage into something else].
To end this newsletter, I’d like to highlight 3 niche experiences of my year. These helped me uncover who I am and who I want to be.
x: 12h 13.5h Walk
I walked for 50km in an effort of activism against inaccessible healthcare. It was an incredible experience (but also: hard and emotionally exhausting).
My thought process: if I can’t endure a fraction of the hardship people go through every day, how do I have any hope of contributing to the solution?
If you’re interested, you can read more about my walk and what it meant here.
y: Doula Training + the Boston Biotech Scene
I completed a doula workshop, and I plan to volunteer at the UNC Hospital as a doula starting in the fall!
The training, which heavily focused on the human side of care, catalyzed me to question the incentives of the healthcare system and their effect on birth.
Particularly how the incentive of profit in the US pushes medication onto patients and how the time-reduction incentive system in Canada pushes induction or cesarean births for the sake of efficiency. To be extremely clear: medication, pain management, cesareans, induction and so forth are essential and should be offered to patients. However, I think it is true that the system is not perfect and that there are things to be re-calibrated from an over-reliance on technology.
Calibration. Mixed-methods. Balance. These are all words I want to take into the future when designing healthcare systems.
While in Boston, I additionally had the honour of visiting Flagship Pioneering, Generation Bio and Harvard, where I got to deepen my understanding of biotech from the VC, startup and academic perspectives.
There are three personal things I took away:
- In-vivo applications will not be capped by machinery/manufacturing like small molecules and biologics have been.
- “We only hire optimists. It’s best if you’re a paranoid optimist.”
- Pause. The world’s not closing in.
I am deeply thankful to David Greer for the support (in Boston and beyond: all the words of wisdom), Julie Liu, Jonathan Alvarez, Rob Rosiello, Dr. Geoffrey McDonough, Kelsey Canos and Maggie Bryant for making this possible. (And a shoutout to Zayn Patel for a great walk that night where I got to reflect on such a transformative day !!)
And I am most appreciative of my friend Kiran Mak for kindly hosting me and being one of the best conversationalists. Kiran, I am deeply impacted by our friendship; thank you for it all.
z: Scientific Legends
In October, I had the opportunity to attend the 2022 Gairdner Gala and Lectures. There, I met the inventors of the COVID-19 vaccine and other incredible scientists.
I am 6300 words and going strong on my article reflecting on this experience. Follow me on Medium to get an email with the article once it’s out!
The Gala room had a fire for science more exothermic than anything I’d ever experienced. There was so much oxygen!! The best adjective for this experience is: special. It was deeply special. (I promise I am not being annoyingly vague…have 6,300+ more words of introspection)
Thank you to Kim Parnell at TKS for inviting me and to Chris Bradford + the Morehead-Cain foundation for making this adventure possible. And to Seth Sheldon and Cody Welton for being such friendly cousins ;)
It only recently occurred to me that I’ve been brave
Recently, one of my oldest friends — we’ve been friends since grade 1 — told me I was brave. Brave for being unapologetically weird/curious since age 6, brave for challenging the entire education system, and brave for going to places where I don’t necessarily know anyone.
My whole life, I’ve opposed the gravitational pull of the conventional, and only 2 weeks ago, it occurred to me that I’ve been even mildly brave.
I’ve felt misunderstood, complicated, alone, ambitious, thirsty, hungry, but never brave. I’ve been called a smart-ass, a nerd, weird, impressive, silly, annoying, curious, crazy, bossy and clever, but never brave. It felt like a weight off my shoulder to be recognized in that way. (Krista, thank you for being a precious part of my upbringing and life).
I am grateful that going into 2023 that I am aware of my bravery. Knowing that I am brave helps me focus more on what to do with that asset rather than getting trapped in a cycle of comparison and accessory doubt.
So here’s to 2023, a year for the brave misfits who want to build a better world 🥂
Isabella Grandic
Ps. If you made it this far, my favourite song in the world is Old Eden by Honeywater. I hope you enjoy!
Pps, if you feel so inclined, you can support my writing/future newsletters below. The money I earn will go towards helping my grandma in Bosnia get treatment for her relapsed cancer ➡️ Support
