The places I’ve called home. From left: Nutley, NJ; Wellesley College, MA; Galway, Ireland; Berkeley, CA; Chicago, IL
I was raised in a small Jersey town (exit 151), a location which provided me with a view of the Manhattan skyline, a rich inventory of American English vowels, and enough pizzerias to incite war. After distinguishing myself through hardy athletic pursuits, chasing down local legends, and participating in musical groups that expanded my cultural horizons, I left the Garden State for college.
While at Wellesley, I studied cognitive and linguistic sciences, and got my start in research with labs on and off campus. In my spare time, I danced in ballroom competitions, hung out at the observatory, played the carillon, met this guy, and found myself in tunnels of both the steam and scream varieties. In my junior year, I spent the spring studying at Galway, where I developed a taste for garlic chips and Murphy’s, and decided that umbrellas aren’t very useful.
In 2009, I bid the East Coast a bittersweet farewell and headed west for grad school. Despite being that asshole that complained about missing winter, I grew to love the endless produce and hilly vistas of California. When I wasn’t in the lab, you could sometimes find me playing frisbee with my fellow Berkeley linguists (go Huckin’ Wugs!)
In 2015, our intrepid ‘94 Camry wagon carted me 2000 miles to Chicago, to pay my winter debt. I spent three years as a postdoc and lecturer at Northwestern. These days, I spend my days as a data analyst focused on arts education in city schools. Outside of work, you’ll find me cooking, forcing Malört on visitors, shortwave radio listening, running, and knitting on the brown line.
For a window into my personal interests, subscribe to my TinyLetter, Chibs Chats. Topics include cooking, the joys of analog communication, and anecdotes of no particular import. And one last note: if you have an interest in American poetry, please weigh in on this enduring mystery.