My Coordinates May Vary
I could start by taking you all the way back to being a child, living in middle-of-nowhere Ohio, tending goats and chickens, and loving life. Or I could take you to the first day of my sophomore year when I started at a new city school. Or the first time I dropped out of college. Or the second time. Or the third… But it might make more sense to tell you where I am now, rather than where I used to be.
Right now, I am finishing the fall semester of my senior year, with a pending course list for a custom bachelor’s degree. I'm also building out my first pilot program for the “Trauma and Relational Adversity in Caregiver Environments” (TRACEs) assessment and screening tool that I've created to support caregivers of multi-systemic youth. I'm a public servant and a nonprofit professional.
There are any number of things I could be doing every day. Connecting with my pilot partners, creating social media content for the organization I work for, studying philosophy, playing in my bowling league, or ranting and raving about the state of the -gestures around wildly to the everything- state of the world.
No two days look the same. Some rhyme. Some don’t. But the constant through-line is this: I follow my curiosity wherever it tugs.
Lately, that curiosity has a name: Relational Ontometry.
It started as a “give a mouse a cookie” spiral while I was studying the ethics of consensually asymmetrical relationships. I couldn’t find a clear mechanism for why we owe each other care, or how subjectivity shifts when power and perception collide. So I drew a sketch. Then a model. Then a 3D graph. Then actual math. And suddenly I was knee-deep in geometry, ethics, collapse theory, and the way relationships function beneath the surface.
In Coordinates May Vary, I’ll be sharing those explorations, along with everything else that makes up an INTJ’s life in motion: building nonprofit programs, designing pilot frameworks, inventing tools like TRACEs, reflecting on school, pursuing public service, and occasionally losing my mind.
Think of this as a running logbook from someone whose projects, questions, and coordinates shift constantly, but whose curiosity never does.