On my 3-month sabbatical.
No seriously. Entertain me for a second. What would you do with three months paid off? Would you travel? Visit family? Start a new hobby? Or just do nothing?
For the past 3 months, I’ve gotten to actually live out this thought experiment! On May 8th, I went from working 9+ hrs most days, often into the night, traveling several times a month, experiencing ongoing stress from trying to stand up to this current administration, ultimately fighting to stop climate change, and juggling the demands and responsibilities of my job… to nothing. To an empty calendar, with nothing. (For the most part.)
I got to take a sabbatical in the first place because my job, Sunrise, offers it. I’ve been there for about 6 years and decided this year I’d apply for one in the summer. I also typically experience seasonal affective disorder (aka depression in the summer) and wanted to see if a break away from work might help my mental health.
Initially, I felt a ton of guilt about it, especially given how urgent this particular political moment is (given Trump, given ICE, given climate, given data centers & AI, etc.) I felt bad that I was off while my coworkers continued to work tirelessly to stand up to this current administration. I felt bad about all the volunteers who were grinding and volunteering their time to the movement. Generally, as I talked to more people outside of Sunrise, I felt guilty getting time off when so many people shared how tired and how exhausted they were from working. Yet, I knew that I deserved rest (as so many of us do), and let the guilt go.
I was anxious in the weeks leading up to my sabbatical. I have not had three months off since I was a child. And paid?! Never. And what would I do with all this free time? (Turns out, there is plenty.)
The past 3 months have been, quite honestly, some of the best in my life. I got to dedicate my life and time to photography, spending hours each day reading, brainstorming ideas, walking the streets of NYC, talking to people and photographing them, and taking classes. I spent time just sitting in Prospect Park or Fort Greene Park. I took a tintype class at Penumbra Foundation. I took a Black & White darkroom class and Studio Lighting class at the International Center of Photography, where I’m going to school in an online program. I got to photograph engagements with a super cool photographer (Alison!) who let me shadow her.
Though I traveled (to Bali with my best friend Niara to attend the most beautiful wedding), I mostly stayed put in NYC, something over the past 4 years that I feel I haven't been able to do, given the travel demands of my job. I went to the beach and watched the World Cup from friends' homes and bars across the city. I got to spend a lot of time with the person I was dating at the time, meeting up with him on random days during the week for lunch, and also catching WC games. I got to work with my friend Louis to finish editing our documentary, one session being 8+ hours, which is wild. (And something I could never do with the demands of work.) I played tennis with my 70-ish-year-old friends George and Glenn. (They keep me young!!)
I spent a week in Chicago with my family and had the time to really see and be with them. I went to Broadway (go see The Outsiders, plus my friend Runako is in it!!) and the Statue of Liberty (hosting my brother for almost a week). I got to host a happy hour when my brother and sister-in-law were in town. I had time to go upstate with my sister for a weekend.
I had time. And I had time to be with myself, to really be with the people I love around me, and generally, I had peace. A peace I haven’t known in a long time.
What did I learn?
My relationship to time completely changed. Typically, I’m always rushing because time is scarce. I’m rushing to make lunch between Zoom calls. I’m rushing for tennis in the am to get back, shower, and log online. When I usually visit Chicago, I’m trying to squeeze in a small bit of time to visit my aging grandmothers or other family. I hate living this way, and my body does too; I feel the edginess and anxiety rushing through my veins in the day-to-day when I’m working. During the past 3 months, time has felt endless, and thus, I’ve been able to really sit with and relish all the things I do. Play tennis for 2 or 3 hours while rushing back home. To spend 3 hours and not 30 minutes with family. My time felt endless (though it wasn’t), and because of that, I really got to relish the present for the things I was experiencing.
How much trauma I’ve accumulated over the years from work. I love, and have loved, my job. And it has also been really fucking hard. I wish there was more space to talk about the trauma we experience from work. At 20-something years old, having to potentially lay people off. Having to sit and let men in the movement completely disrespect me (yelling at me, telling me I didn’t know what I was talking about) in a way they would never do to other men leaders in Sunrise. I’ve had people, because they were burnt out themselves and resentful, treat me and talk to me any kind of way while I was doing my best to lead a team. I’m excited to, at some point, pass the baton and let others know how difficult it is to be a leader in a social movement organization.
I was not put on this Earth to work 50+ hours a week. Even if it's for something I love. And no amount of shaming or guilting for the “cause” will convince me of that anymore. If this is the last moment in history where things feel “stable” as a society (which, are they?!), I want to fight like hell to make the world better, but I also want time to enjoy what we have now.
I want to be an artist. Unfortunately, I am not rich (*SAD*) and have to work for a living. And it seems like most people in society who do choose the path of art are either well off or take the sacrifice, knowing they may struggle. I love photography. I love filmmaking. I have so MANY ideas (of work connected to climate change, activism, young people) and want them to have time to birth them to live.
We need guaranteed paid time off. Why can’t everyone get guaranteed three months off, paid, in this country? It sounds a bit like a joke. But I could make the legit case (rise in AI, impact on jobs, need to expand work but have people work less, boost it would be to the economy, impact on quality of life it would have), but maybe that’s for another post.
What does this mean for my future?
A sabbatical has been eye-opening. Illuminating. It has shown me more of who I am and want to be, if given the time to choose.
Freedom, to me, is the ability to wake up and choose what you get to do with your time. And have the means and resources to pursue that. I want freedom in my life.
I now know that I want to build a life where I have 2-3 months off each summer. I’m not quite sure how to make that possible, but I know there are ways. Do I have to, at some point, start my own thing? Do freelance photography and hustle in the fall, winter, and spring? Work in education? I DON’T KNOW. But I’m really excited to figure out how to make that possible for my life.
Anyways, I’ll wrap up here by asking… what would you do with three months off?