My Remembrance of Kimberly Perez

by Candis Driver Smith, Ph.D. Candidate in English, MSU
October 3, 2006

I first met Kim in 2003 at the annual absolutely, positively mandatory meeting of the Foreign Language and Area Studies (FLAS) Fellowship recipients. Kim was awarded a FLAS fellowship to study Hausa, and I received a FLAS to study Swahili. This meeting was to outline our responsibilities as FLAS fellows. At the conclusion of the meeting, Kim and I walked out of the International Center together. I sensed that Kim wanted to talk to me about something, but I didn't know what, so I just waited for her to tell me. As we came to the end of the walkway, I prepared to bid her farewell, but after a long pause, Kim finally asked, "Can I talk to you? Do you have a minute?" There was a vulnerability about her, one that I would later discover masked a steel resolve. I said, "Sure," and she began to share some concerns she had---ones that most first-year doctoral students have but are reluctant to talk about. We stayed out on the walkway talking for about half an hour, and at the end of the conversation I said, "You know, we need to stick together." And so we did.

Kim and I began getting together for coffee or lunch, sharing the ups and downs of graduate school, the joys and challenges of international living, career and research interests, and life in general. As I got to know Kim, I began to get a picture of a very humble, accomplished woman who had a great sense of adventure and a loving and accepting heart. She was the person who possessed the gold, but did not realize that she was the treasure.

Kim's favorite place to have coffee and study was Espresso Royale Café on Grand River Avenue. It amazed me how she could sit there and study, even with earphones on, chewing her favorite fruit-flavored Trident gum, amidst all the people, their conversations, and the traffic. But Kim had fabulous powers of concentration and mental energy, which I wished she had bottled and sold. I would have been her best customer.

Our favorite place to go for our 2-hour lunches was Apple Jade, a Chinese restaurant in Frandor Shopping Plaza. It was there that we shared our hopes for the future, our frustrations with graduate school politics, and our relationship trials and triumphs. When I became engaged in 2004, Kim was the first person to whom I showed my engagement ring. As I pulled it out of the red and white velvet box (because the ring was too big for me to wear), she beamed, and I could tell she was truly happy for me. We celebrated and toasted my good news.

Later that spring, it was time to congratulate and toast Kim when she was awarded the Fulbright to do her doctoral dissertation research in Nigeria. I was so happy for her! I had told her before that she would get it, but I don't think she really believed that she had it until she boarded the plane to Nigeria. It had been a tough couple of years for her at MSU, and now she would reap the fruits of her labor.

After I got married in 2005, Kim was one of the few people to call my house on a regular basis---probably because not many people had the phone number---but she actually took the time to use it. It was so comforting to have her call----she made me feel more at home in MY new home, and she didn't even live there! Most Wednesdays between 10 and 10:30 am, Kim would call right before she went to Hausa class. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" she would say. Or, "Ok, I just want to see what you think about this. I promise I won't take up much of your time…." She was often so afraid of "taking up time" or "being a bother." It was always a pleasure to talk to her, and I told her so, but I don't think she always believed me.

During the semester, I would often call to tell her something funny or get her take on something that happened, or just check to see how things were going. By now, we both had cell phones, and we would call each other, day or night, just to share what was going on. Whatever was happening, we always worked through the drama and then had a good laugh about it. This was all part of our "sticking together."

During the fall of 2005, Kim told me about her plans for the upcoming semester. As she explained to me how she was going to study for her comprehensive exams September through December, take the exams during Christmas break, then come back to campus to write and defend her dissertation proposal, all while moving out of her dorm room and preparing to pack for her Fulbright year in Nigeria, I began to break out in to a cold sweat. Reflecting on how I hunkered down when I took my comprehensive exams as if I were preparing for a nuclear attack, I couldn't imagine studying for and taking my exams the way she did. Kim had a very strict study schedule that she adhered to no matter what, and she knew if she stuck to it, she would achieve her goal of passing her comps. That was Kim---tenacity plus. I also couldn't fathom taking comprehensive exams during Christmas break---I would be entirely too distracted by the Christmas festivities at home. And to pack up within a few weeks to stay in Nigeria for a whole year? But if anyone could pull it off, Kim could.

And she did. When Kim came back to campus in January 2006, she had passed her comps, and was preparing for her proposal defense. I knew it would be a breeze for her, but still, she called often saying, "Can we talk? I'm not sure if this whole thing is going to work." I assured her that it would. She had weathered the worst of it with flying colors already.

In late January, I attended Kim's 30th birthday party at Harper's. This was a time for us all to not only celebrate her birthday, but also to celebrate her passing comps, defending her dissertation proposal, and in Kim's words, "get a little jiggy" before she headed off to Nigeria. Kim had reserved a private room next to the beer vats, and she was the ultimate hostess. Everyone was admiring her beautiful bell-sleeved blouse and her hair, cut in long, flowing layers. She looked great! As I was introduced to all the guests at the party (about 20), I noticed what a diverse group of people that had been assembled. We were all from different parts of the world, different academic disciplines, different linguistic backgrounds, different departments at MSU, but we had one thing in common---our love and admiration for Kim. Few people can bring together so many from such diverse backgrounds and interests, but that was Kim---uniting all people in a spirit of peace and harmony.

I last saw Kim in early February---right before I left for Tanzania. We were going to have lunch at our favorite spot, Apple Jade. Since she had moved out of her room in Owen Hall, I was to pick her up at Trapper's Cove Apartments where she was staying with a friend off-campus. Not wanting to "be a bother," she told me that she would wait for me outside at one of the complex's bus stops so I wouldn't "get lost" trying to find her. That was Kim---always thinking of the well being and comfort of the other person. "You will not sit out in that cold," I told her. "This isn't San Diego, this is MICHIGAN! Just give me the apartment building number, and I'll come get you there." She didn't give me the building number because she wasn't sure of what it was! "I know how to get here," she said, "but I can't tell you where it is." When I drove up to get her, there she was out on the road in front of the bust stop, flagging me down. We then went on for lunch.

While at the restaurant, we talked about the challenges of preparing for overseas travel, our hopes and concerns about our research, our plans for when we returned. We knew we wouldn't see each other for a while after this, so we tried to pack in as much as we could in a couple of hours. As our time came to a close, Kim handed me a beautiful bag saying, "This is a late Christmas present." I told her she didn't have to do this, but she insisted that she had really wanted to. Inside the bag was a red sweater with suede panels. It was beautiful, very chic---just like Kim. Even though it was a size "Large," I feared that I was not quite svelte enough to fit into it, but that was OK--- I would wear it a little snug. (That was so sweet of Kim to see me a few pounds lighter.) The bag had teddy bears, blue skies, and stars all over it, and each bear had an inspirational quote. "Live your dreams!" "Have faith!" "Reach for the stars!" She had also included a note thanking me for giving her encouragement and inspiration and also reminding me that I should remember each of the quotes so that I could reach my goals and dreams. I was so touched by her gift. If I were there with you today, I would show you the sweater and the bag, and you all could see how special the gift it was. Incidentally, I lost a few pounds in Tanzania, so the sweater fits perfectly now.

After our lunch, I took Kim back to Trapper's Cove. We hugged good-bye and wished each other Godspeed as we journeyed to our respective research sites. We promised to stay in touch while we were away and to keep each other up-to-date on what we were doing, which we did through 2006. As I drove away and looked back in the rear-view mirror, I saw Kim strolling into the apartment building, her hair gently blowing in the frigid Michigan breeze, and I thought, "I am so blessed to have a friend like Kim. I can't wait until she gets back from Nigeria so we can talk."

Kim, I will never again hear your voice, but know that your life has spoken volumes to me about how to live and what is important in life, and I am so blessed for that. I miss you, Kim. And through your spirit, we will always "stick together."