Forks of Fate

I’ve found this beautiful artwork at an antique store and it screamed the name of my dear friend at me. So I bought it for her. I loved how simple, neat and elegant it is, and what impressed me the most is that one of my favorite poems in English is used as a border for the art piece - maple leafs - itself.

The picture below gives a better detail of how the poem starts in the middle of the left outer border after “0”, wraps around the leafs, then jumps onto the inside border and finally the inner circle. I can only imagine how much time it took to fit all those words into the tights spaces, meeting the highest calligraphy standards. Susan Loy is a superb master.

THE ROAD NOT TAKEN by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

***

It is a beautiful poem that together with the visualization of two intersecting maple leafs made me think about how many times life teases us with opportunities that would produce completely different outcomes. A true fork on the road.

In retrospect, I’ve had at least three. The most significant one still makes me ponder about “what if” and wonder where I would have been if it worked out.

In 1999, after I was done with my home residency requirement for a US-government-sponsored international student exchange program, I decided it was time to start a doctorate. I applied to the world-renowned School of Communication at the University of Amsterdam. I had an excellent research proposal that had been endorsed by the late great British scholar of communication Dr.Denis McQuail himself, and strong references.

I was invited for an in-person interview as one of the three finalists. The interview went exceptionally well, the interviewers - then current senior faculty - praised my credentials and research proposal, enthusiastically told me that I’d be an excellent addition to their program, showed me around the University and even pointed at my potential office. I was both inspired and hopeful. It was my first “western” academic job interview and I didn’t know then that all finalists were treated pretty much the same way.

They ultimately hired another finalist. They wrote me an exceptionally nice letter of rejection which I should have framed (I didn’t keep it) in essence saying “it’s not you, it’s us” in a polite academic language. Nonetheless, I was foiling for weeks with disappointment and self-doubt. Even the nicest letters of rejection are still rejections, and I’d get plenty more in my academic life.

I ended up staying at my home institution, where I taught and ran the Journalism Department, for four more years. In 2004, I started a doctoral program in the United States, which upon completion gave me a path to a work visa and citizenship. Also, in between my Amsterdam interview and the American doctoral program, I fell in love and had my son.

In summer 2018, I took my son to Amsterdam as his 16th Birthday present. We walked to the University of Amsterdam, sat on a bench in one of its beautiful courtyards, and I told him about my interview. “Imagine, if I ended up hired, my life would have been completely different. I’d probably be living somewhere in Europe now, maybe even here,” I said.

“Do you regret it?” my son asked.

“Of course not, silly. I wouldn’t have had you in that life. Or would have had a different you. You might have been teaching me Dutch youth slang instead of American!”

***

What was your most memorable fork on the road? Please share your stories in the comments.