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I’ve never had a place to call home, not really.
When you’ve lived in 14 cities, 8 states, and 4 countries its hard
to know which to choose. Houston, Texas, The Woodlands. Detroit,
Michigan. Minneapolis, Minnesota. Santa Barbara, California. The
boondocks of Oklahoma. Austin, Texas. Frankfurt, Germany. Nicosia,
Cyprus. Székesfehérvár, Hungary. Charlottesville, Virginia. San
Antonio, Texas. Pompano Beach, Florida. Delray Beach, Florida. And
finally, Shaker Heights, Ohio.
Because of Daddy’s profession in the
basketball industry, my family and I have experienced the world.
Nicosia, Cyprus which filled my sister, Bryn, and me with nothing
but adventure. I’ll never forget watching her eat a snail. Or the
time our rebel friend, Nika, who spoke little English, artfully made
us paint her garage 5 different colors. Székesfehérvár, Hungary: the
ice cream parlor across the street, the fast paced language, the
fashion, brick streets, incredible bread bakeries, freezing climate,
and of course watching Daddy win a championship. Austin, Texas where
I distinctly remember witnessing my two 2nd grade friends getting
married under our playground willow tree. I’m almost sure that was
fake. And there was Santa Barbara, California, one of my most
favorite places in the world- where ocean meets mountain. The
gorgeous blue water, the pierre, the hippies, and Fiesta. I remember
the times my mom would dance with my sister and me in the kitchen
when we were only kids, not caring when Bryn turned the vaccum on,
putting the attachment in her mouth, letting the suction pull her
cheeks in so she looked like a fish. And of course I remember hot,
tropical Florida. How could I forget living walking distance from
the beach, or training (for tennis) 5 hours a day. But then of
course there were the hurricanes, the muscle heads, and my own lot
of worries. The pains of online high school, the literal pains of
injury, the long hours, the defeat, the tragic occurrences- and the
growth and satisfaction.
And then, I moved here, to Shaker Heights,
Ohio. When I first told people I was moving here, from Florida, they
looked at me as if I were wearing white pants after Labor Day. And
then I looked at them as if they were wearing wool in the summer!
People complain about the weather here or the fact that there’s
nothing to do. But I say both are irrelevant. I came here over the
summer to take a creative writing class with Mr. Verbos. And I met
some of the most amazing girls with strong convictions and solid
writing skills. And then I came here officially, 2 weeks into the
year and I couldn’t believe how genuinely friendly and welcoming
everyone was. Somehow, people knew my name. And then the times just
kept on rolling. I went to my first homecoming dance, I played
states with the tennis team, I laid in a field for hours, and
everywhere I go I run into someone special. It’s quite a sensation,
to feel as if you’re surrounded by such unbelievable beings. I mean,
I am grateful for living and traveling so abundantly, for being
given the opportunity to experience things most don’t. And yes, I
believe I’ve taken much from those experiences, broadening my
perspective and my person as a whole; I know who I am. But what its
taught me most is that it doesn’t matter what my surrounding
background is, it never has. I can confirm to the weather: I can put
on a jacket, I can get used to the city life: I can learn the bus
schedule, I can adapt to the culture: I can throw some boots on and
yell out “how ya doin darlin”.
Because it isn’t where I am or where I reside that
makes me. It’s who I’m with. And I especially have this city and
this incredible school to prove that. With where I am right now in
my life, these months here so far have come at the right time.
Throughout my 18 years, I’ve learned how to adapt to new and foreign
places but in coming to this school I have never met a more
powerful, supportive collaboration of people. It may be hard for
some of you to see but I’m telling you to consider yourselves so
entirely lucky. Because the feeling of this environment is unlike
any other. When I come here, and I see all of your faces I feel as
if I’m home. And that’s saying something. |
