Naming the Butterflies: On Discomfort Zones
I am generally blithely unaware of how much time I spend smack dab in the middle of my comfort zone. People I know. Places I know. Experiences I know. I tiptoe to the edges of it from time to time. Get lost on purpose. Walk into a room filled with strangers. Teach unfamiliar material. Add a new tool to my digital toolkit. Ask a new question. Sit with a new answer. Stretch. I even occasionally wear yellow. Most of the time, I am comfortable. Even, dare I say it, staid. But I study and write about Derry, Northern Ireland, a place far from home. Its culture has been shaped by a history I have come to understand something of -- it often feels just enough to illuminate all that I do not and cannot claim to know. Derry is simultaneously deeply familiar and quite literally foreign. Photo by Marty McColgan People say, "But, you're an historian of Derry. You've spent years there. You love it. Plus, you are Irish-American and Ireland is really just the 51st s