When battling lack of quality sleep and what may or may not be black mold-induced sickness, I know I rely on my Writing 101 class to be the highlight of my day. (Current freshmen, take Neuroscience & Society next semester and thank me later.) Unrelated to all the intriguing questions and research we look at in there, it was also because of this class that I would find a new way to approach identity upon viewing Taiye Selasi’s TED Talk, “Don’t Ask Me Where I’m From, Ask Me Where I’m a Local.”
So with this philosophy in mind, I’ll introduce myself.
I’m a local of my hometown, Ocala, a town in central Florida mainly known for having an extreme number of horse farms and trademarking itself as the Horse Capital of the World (sorry, Lexington). Though I didn’t grow up on any sort of farm, our family’s habit of going to the small animal auction “for fun” in my elementary school years soon led us to become the caretakers of many chickens, other miscellaneous birds, and a couple of rabbits. We no longer have these, but we do live within walking distance of many small family farms. Sometimes, I’ll greet the miniature horses while my one remaining companion, Roxie, watches them suspiciously from a distance.
My core childhood memories are embedded in the summer, because that’s when my mom made a point out of keeping us out of the house by sending us to every camp that existed in the area. Many were based in nature education, where younger Crystal first developed curiosity and appreciation of the natural world by building stick forts in the woods and crawling through caves. Later, I’d volunteer for paddling camps and then work as a residential camp counselor in the Ocala National Forest, where I learned not just how to deal with chaos, but also become comfortable in it. Through both these camps and my conscious effort, I’ve become a local of our nearby waterways. My Sunday mornings were often spent at Silver River, either pulling invasive weeds with the other volunteers I’d drag along with me, or trying to keep up with my dad on kayak runs and accumulating photos of manatees.
At the Camp Kiwanis archery station this past summer
The occasional summer was spent in the Xinyi District, my home base when visiting my mom’s relatives. The city of Taipei is just the opposite of Ocala, so large and fascinating that I felt like–and was–a tourist most of the time. But Xinyi is familiar to me, and my family is very local there. My grandmother’s apartment sits in an older section that existed before its development, situated around the corner from all that’s shiny and modern in the capital’s finance and shopping district. When I step outside, I can see Taipei 101 and know it’s a ten minute walk to the iconic skyscraper, or ten minutes by car to the Elephant Mountain trail if I feel like climbing stairs for a better view of the city. Our daily rituals here revolved around food and walking–I used to think I disliked cities, but I had just never met a walkable city with night markets.
The view from Elephant Mountain
Taiwan is my favorite place on Earth, and my favorite piece of writing I ever wrote was about our breakfast runs there. In my next few years, I hope to get enough traveling and writing under my belt that those two things might change.
In writing for the Duke Research Blog, I aim to accomplish a couple of things. A) Indulge my inner child that aspired to be a scientific journalist. B) Take a sneak peek into various fields. While I (regrettably) can’t major in five different areas at once, I’ll cheerfully settle for running around campus and interviewing pioneers of all disciplines about their work. C) Highlight research related to issues of real world relevance and importance. I originally wrote for my high school paper because I felt there was a need for environmental awareness in my area. In the same vein, the gap between what we learn from research and what occurs in the real world is largely why many of our society’s issues persist today; academia isn’t accessible to the general public. And yet, at Duke, we’re surrounded by more progress and discussion than we could ever hope to be aware of. That’s where I come into play, looking for what might get skipped over and bringing bite-sized pieces of news to you–all while becoming a local here in Durham, North Carolina.
By Crystal Han, Class of 2028