I'm sitting at the exact same airport, two and a half years after I started writing Home: Part I - and still reflecting on the same questions and struggling with the same tensions. But this time, rather than thinking about home defined by the place, I've been thinking home defined by the people that occupy it.
If you move away from "home," what is your responsibility to the people that remain? Or, what happens when the people that you most associate with "home" are no longer there? If they move elsewhere, is that new place "home?" Is it possible for that place to become "home?"
These seem to be the quintessential questions for immigrant families; yet it is one that no one seems to have an answer for. It defines how we experience the places in which we live, the places from which we came, and the relationships we have with the people - both in our places of origin and destination(s). And it's not just a question for immigrants - whether we're moving from country-to-country, or state-to-state, where we establish our roots, and how we do it, this question hits home.
If we hold too close to the communities from which we came, we risk not being able to build a new home and form our own identity in the new places. Yet, if we are fully planted in those new places, we risk neglecting the community that formed us. Finding a balance of the two, like most things, is almost always the ideal option - but does that risk then not having any identity of "home" at all?
I ask these questions not because I have an answer. Indeed, I don't think anyone does. It's an ongoing journey that requires empathy, self-awareness, and a deep love for people. But it's worth naming - because while this journey is hard, it is one that so many of us share.
Comments
Post a Comment