Bri in between

I had covid again recently. It was my second time, and it kind of felt like a book end to me. I know I’m incredibly privileged as I write this–I was able to stay home and stay safe while I recovered, unlike many others around the world. No, from my place in the world, “the covid times” are more about the mental and financial struggle. I worried about my health, but mostly I spent the time getting in my head and thinking about my choices and what’s important to me. Some of this was good and helpful. Other parts of this were some of the most painful things I’ve had to live through, but we’re not here to talk about those.

No, I’m gathering us all here instead to be a bit egotistical and make a grand declaration about seizing the day. I’m going to finally start talking about the thing that I said I was going to keep talking and writing about since I moved back to the US in the summer of 2016–Prague. The irony is not lost on me that we’ve come full circle here, but I’ve lived a few more lives between now and then, and I think (I hope) I’m finally ready to put my own words to some of the things I’ve been meaning to say for a long time now–so buckle up and enjoy. I know I will.

There’s that one quote, I’m pretty sure it’s Kafka (one of Prague’s own sons), “Prague never lets you go. This dear little mother has claws.” While I’ve never really doubted this saying, I will admit that I never fully anticipated its true meaning. When I first left Prague, I thought I would be back, and soon. Then, I fell into the exceedingly busy day-to-day of running canvasses and thought maybe it was just an interesting blip in my past; a useful piece of trivia for a get-to-know you question and I could wean myself off of the desire to return. And then we arrive back to covid (and the beginning of this intro) and as my life forcibly slowed and changed and broke, I realized I hadn’t quite left Prague as behind as I thought. Instead, it was one of the big things that got me through the shutdowns and the anxiety and the dreaming that 2020 kicked off.

Prague has always had a special place in my heart. Growing up with an undeniably Czech last name in the US, it was always apparent that while we were American, my family was also from “somewhere else.” Having parents from two pretty vibrant and established immigrant communities here in the US, I did always know where those somewhere elses were, and Prague was always on my mind. (my mom would kill me if I didn’t mention that I’m also Italian-American) If you believe in fate, you could almost say it was pulling me back. It’s hard to remember a time when I didn’t want to go.

You might be wondering why I’m choosing to start this and write this now. I’ll confess that my own anxiety-riddled brain has been very good at coming up with all of the reasons why I shouldn’t. After all, I don’t currently live there. I gave up on the grand expat (a term that only seems to apply to white, privileged immigrants) adventure. What could I possibly have to say that’s worth listening to?

I’m so glad you asked.

Here’s the thing I’ve come to realize; knowing Prague and caring about Czech culture is not a competition. (Which, if you know me, is a bit of an ironic statement.)

I want to show you my Prague because even though I’m not there all the time, it’s definitely still a part of me and it feels as if it always will be thanks to those aforementioned claws.

I’ve spent years amassing knowledge and literally studying Czech history and language, which has got to be good for something.

I feel particularly passionate about using my voice here because I have a unique connection to both the Czech Republic and to the Czech-American community. If I can show my version of Prague and Czech culture to my unique community, I’d consider this passion of mine a success. Consider this my contribution to preserving the culture, friends.

The final reason I’ll leave you with–-the only reason that really matters, in fact–is simply because I want to. And life is too short and too hard to not try. I hope you enjoy it as much as I will.

S laskou,

Bri