Many people hear the word “home” and instantly think of the
place where their deepest roots lie. This notion of home evaded me most of my
life. Though I spent my earliest years in the Washington, D.C. area, by the
time I was 8 my family had moved to small-town West Virginia. Suddenly I was
surrounded by people with extended families who had lived in the area for
generations. Differences in accents and activities were glaring. School was
dismissed for a week during hunting season; my family had never owned a gun. Nearly
everyone drove pick-up trucks, while we had a collection of aging Volvo’s in
our yard. The house where I lived with my immediate family was like a Yankee
island in the deep-South. My parents, native New Yorkers, enjoyed the general peace, quiet and breathing room, but their new abode certainly wasn’t “home” to them (and still isn't, some twenty years later.)
After college, I spent a year living in Israel; a place that
a whole lot of people fervently call their home. My husband’s ancestors have lived
continuously in the Middle East for thousands of years; no other place will
truly be “home” for him. I heard more than one resident of the country say they
knew they are home because only in that country could they identify as an
individual first and Jewish second (rather than the other way around.) Naturally
I could not relate to any of this; my family had arrived in the U.S. from Europe
but a few generations ago and no particular faith bound me to any land. In
Israel, the language was strange, the people seemed rough. A pale, shy American
girl, I surely did not fit in. For the first time, I began to miss West
Virginia. I missed the rolling country roads, the fireflies, and the
delineation of the seasons. I discovered that after all the years of yearning
to go somewhere more exciting, W.V. did have a special hold on my heart. Now,
visits to the countryside of my childhood make my heart sing.
Today I once again reside in Washington, D.C. and while I
love revisiting the places I knew as a little girl (and feel very
much at home here!), a funny thing has happened. I miss Israel. The hot streets slick with
fallen olives and dates, the salty Mediterranean breeze, the warm people who
became part of my family…
It seems that these days, there is more than one place I
could call “home.” This blog is about the experiences that got me to that
point; about differences in culture that can be opportunities to learn and connect;
about how travel can remind you of what home really means.
I feel I should write about this because I’m brimming with
passion for travel and with observations to share, from the viewpoint of
someone who has gone far out of her comfort zone and come back rich with new
perspectives.
You had me thinking the entire time "which part of her upbringing/lifestyle will she follow this summer?" You did a nice job tying it all in, using the above information as a solid foundation for your topic.
ReplyDeleteYour story resonated with me. Your descriptions are great. I loved the sentence with the "hot streets slick with fallen olives and dates..." You engage different senses and add to the emotion of finding "home."
You chose in interesting and personal topic, and the argument reads really well. There are some tiny points that might make it tighter.
ReplyDeleteAfter the line "Differences in accents and activities were glaring" you have two examples that are pretty amusing, but you can connect them to the sentence above with some words, "It caught us off guard when school..." I understood that these were examples, but you can make it perfectly clear.
"For the first time, I began to miss West Virginia," I would add "my home in WV," just to drive the "home" concept as deep as possible.
"Now, visits to the countryside of my childhood make my heart sing.
Today I once again reside in Washington, D.C. and while I love revisiting the places I knew as a little girl"
These two sentences are too similar to be this close, you should either change one of them or put something else between. (Or... makes them almost exactly the same for different places and play the rhythm card: Today, while I enjoy both visits to my childhood's countryside, and revisits to memorable places in DC - where I once again reside - a funny thing happened.)
"how travel can remind you of what home really means." That's a strong line to finish on. I'm not sure you need the part that comes after it.
-Nigel
Sometimes I need a few pieces to see where you are going. This is one reason for these first assignments: I want to get to know you. And I want to reintroduce you to you.
ReplyDeleteYou are a good writer, maybe a bit too in love with your words because you work so hard at them. I understand the avoidance of expectations and hiding your work until it is perfect and the problems inherent in this.
You have to become more comfortable with drafts. It’s the only way to take the next step. Creatively, your errors are much more valuable than your perfection. There is no perfection. If you think your work is perfect, than you are fooling yourself.
It is another version of avoiding rewriting because you cannot look at your imperfection.
A writer is comfortable with her flaws because her job is to work with and display them.
I ask that you write under a pseudonym so you can write like you did in your journals. I include the disclaimer that writing involves continuing to write this way without the pseudonym.
These first assignments play with writing about yourself. They invite people to ask the questions, “What do I have to say?” and “What is honestly already on my mind?” They show people how to take a long winding road of a bio and focus it through the prism of a subject into a tight About The Author or byline.
You’ve been asking these questions your whole life. You don’t want to answer.
You could use some editing. I’m not talking about trimming the fat, but more honing the muscles – letting go of some of your darling phrases. Break some of these dense paragraphs up and let the thoughts breathe in one or two sentences. It becomes easier to toss what is excess.
Your topic is a little amorphous. Try and tighten it up. Listen to Nigel. Tweet those terse bylines and define yourself, if only for a semester. Maybe bring some of your photography into the mix. The program is going to ask you for a capstone. Attempt a few drafts of it here. Take a leap by committing to something. Give the audience one concrete facet of yourself to grasp.
It doesn’t have to define you.
It might give you many more opportunities to be amorphous.
Good work. Welcome.
Thanks everyone for the insightful comments.
ReplyDeleteI need to let my words breathe, and at the same time, focus the theme.
I think my new tactic is to take myself less seriously! And I think working in drafts is actually going to help me relax.
Viva, I am looking forward to reading about your experiences. With many homes around the world, it can be difficult to feel “at home” at all. But these experiences are one of the richest there is.
ReplyDeleteFor me, the strongest statements are the last two paragraphs. The paragraphs above seem to support the last two by demonstrating why you’re qualified on the topic, but it’s not clear what the topic is until the end. Perhaps beginning with your final two paragraphs would help to clarify and set the stage for the rest. I would have been hooked with an opening something like: There is more than one place I call “home.”
I see that I was thrown by your name now that I learn your topic. I imagined Viva Green's blog to be about environmentalism.
ReplyDeleteI became immersed in your writing which was a nice feeling following your conclusion. You stated your blog topic clearly and debunked my assumptions. I agree, breaking up the paragraphs could help make some points clearer. I look forward to reading your re-write.