Next week I wrap up this part of my journey and begin another. I will be leaving the UNC School of Government next week to start a great job at East Carolina University. There is a lot to like about my new job. But saying goodbye to my colleagues of the past five years not one of them.  

When I started at UNC I was 24 years old and "green behind the ears." I have grown personally (and physically twice when I had my two kids) and professionally. I hope that I have given everyone I've worked with as much as they have given me. I have gained so much from everyone's welcoming spirit and infinite wisdom. I have learned the art of appreciation paired with giving quality feedback. I have been challenged to learn new things, speak up, and extend my expertise when needed.

When I left my last job at Rider, it was bittersweet in a different way. Rider is my undergraduate university and I had more or less grown up there. When I left Rider I was looking for a change and wanted to be in North Carolina with my then boyfriend, now husband. I mourned that chapter in my life too. Still, I was ecstatic to be taking a job in North Carolina, a place I longed to be. 

Leaving the School of Government feels different. While I have consistently looked for a job closer to home over the years, I didn't actually believe it would happen. I also love my work, my colleagues, and the mission of the School. This job change, while welcome, was unexpected. 

I have commuted back and forth to Chapel Hill 80 miles each way for the past five years. If I had to guess I'd say I've logged over 200,000 miles over this time. I feel like a road warrior! That time in the car provides a lot of opportunity to reflect. During my recent reflection about this transition in my life it is my car that offers me the best advice of all. When I check my side mirror it says, "Objects in mirror are closer than they appear." I will always know that the UNC School of Government will always be closer than it appears. 

As I close this chapter in my life, I will think fondly of my work, my colleagues, and the mission of the School. I hope that our paths cross again in the future. As I drive out of the parking lot for the last time next week I will be reminded that objects in your mirror are closer than they appear. I hope to never stop looking in that mirror.