I surprised myself. Stepping into my dorm room for the first time in three weeks, the first words that slid from my mouth were: “I’m home.” I had just concluded a fun, restful break with my family and left the supportive home that my parents made there. Now I was back in a dorm, by definition, temporary housing, but it was dawning on me how much it felt like my home. As familiar faces appeared to greet me and I settled into the college-vibes again, the feeling only grew.
You could say that home is where the heart is. And it is true that when you are separated from someone or someplace that you feel a deep desire for or connection with, your mind repeatedly returns to them or it. And you find yourself always trying to get back. However, at Gordon, although I wouldn’t say that I am always itching to be here, I’ve established my community here, I’ve taken on work here, I’ve grown into my life here.
When I was younger, I stubbornly held on to New York City as my home, since I grew up there. But my home is no longer the place that I grew up, nor is it where my parents live anymore. Home is taking on a new meaning for me now. I’ll always return “home” when I go back to see my family. But the broader idea of where I live, is becoming more and more an outcome of my own living, not my family’s.