Here's a song to spark some thoughts on home:
Simon and Garfunkel say that home is a place where your thoughts escape, your music plays, and where your love life is waiting. Going by this formula, home is many places. At school, it was my dorm, in Washington, it's my house, up here at camp, its outside. I don't want to say that Simon and Garfunkel loosely use the term 'home.' The home that they describe is a special place for each of us. It can't necessarily be anywhere and it could be one place or many. But this brings up closer. We have parameters for what home should give us, now we need to clarify these and identify a location. Before we do that though, let's throw another ingredient into our thinking stew.
I remember a Facebook status I saw a year or two ago that went something like this: "Sometimes, it's nice to go to a place where everyone knows your name." At first the thought made me laugh a bit. At the time I had no desire to return to Washington (a place I still consider small enough to be called a 'small town'), so the thought of returning to a place where everyone (or a lot of people) knew me was something I didn't want to do. This feeling came from my first visit to Washington after leaving for college. I envisioned it would be a triumphant return to my homeland. It wasn't. I enjoyed my time with old friends and seeing the world I left behind, but I missed GAC. The thing was, I left Washington behind. I went back to see the final marching band competition of the year because I wanted to see the band the year after I had graduated. But it wasn't the same. Everyone had moved on. It was fun to hang out with the alumni and be able to talk about the 'old days,' but GAC was not there. It wasn't the same, so after I returned to school, I wanted to stay there for as long as I could. That episode repeated itself over Thanksgiving and Christmas vacations. While I was hanging about with friends and family, everything was great! But when the festivities ended or when nothing wast happening, I (pardon the poetic tone) longed to be back at GAC. Two worlds were created; my world in Washington and those associated with it and my world at GAC and everyone associated with that world. They didn't blend nor did anyone from Washington or GAC cross into the other world (my parents being the exception). There was a wall between GAC and Washington. What began was a game of tug-of-war between Washington and GAC. Which would be my home? Part of me justified calling Washington home because it's where I'm from while another part wanted a new home, GAC. Freshman year, it was the GAC side that overruled the Washington side.
When the time came to leave GAC in May, I cried. I had never cried about leaving a place before. Ending experiences yes, but never leaving a place. I think its because GAC is more than a place. So much of my life is connected to that spot on the hill that leaving it is a sad thing for me to do each year. I came home and felt out of place. At the time, I was happy to soon be out the door again; this time to Beloit, Wisconsin. I was in Beloit for 8 weeks then back in Washington for a few weeks then back to GAC. That summer left me frazzled from so much moving. Arriving at GAC, I finally felt like I was in a permanent place. I was going to be at Gustavus longer than I was in Washington and Beloit. I felt like I belonged there.
I've explained the ambiguous nature that home is for me, or at least the conundrum I find myself in. Am I limiting the term 'home' by restricting it to being a physical place? Can home be mobile? More thoughts will come as this discussion continues.
What does home mean for you?
