That Place You Call "Home"

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
Discovering where you belong

Submitted: July 23, 2014

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Submitted: July 23, 2014

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When I got to the U.S. I was around eight years old…Sometimes I wish I would have been a little younger…Or older…Either one would’ve probably served me better…See, it’s as if I got here right in the middle of a human’s growth period…I wasn’t too old to learn new things, but I wasn’t young enough either…I soaked up the American culture fairly well, but I didn’t get to enjoy my Dominican one very much…I only have hints of what it is to be a Dominican…I’m only mediocrely good at it…I have cousins who got here in their teens and they’re so Dominincan!...They know tons about the culture…The music, food, people, etc…They know it all…And so, they seem to be much more fond of it than I…Maybe, if I’d been there more often over the years I was growing up…But, it took me over 11 years to go back!...It was a nice experience…Everything was much smaller than I remembered in my head…See, a child sees everything much bigger than we do because they’re smaller…Their height…They’re way shorter than us…So, everything’s huge to them…And that’s what happened to me…In my head, the neighborhood was huge and so were the houses…But those were memories of a child…After 11 something years, I realized everything wasn’t as big…The houses were smaller than I’d remember…The whole neighborhood was…And I was astounded by this discovery…And upset…What I remembered was so grand to me…And the reality…reality wasn’t…It was cute…Cute little houses in a cute neighborhood…But, not grand…And it wasn’t as homey as I remembered either…The environment seems different…People seemed colder…More dull and city-like…The neighborhood in my head had children running around everywhere…With their bikes…And their games…It had people walking around , visiting their neighbors to gossip and share coffee…Less houses…More empty space…Less city-styled…But now everyone has someone in the U.S…A parent, a sibling, etc…Everyone’s receiving monetary help…Enough to build new houses…And roads…To make things “fancier”, if you’d say…And it’s really something when time makes things change, you know…I wish a lot of things didn’t change, but they have to…People age, children grow, neighborhoods get rearranged…All the time…And I wasn’t there for all of these changes…So, things are awkward for me…It’s like, I don’t belong there anymore…The neighborhood I was part of, is now only in my memories…And I could do is try to integrate myself into this new environment they’ve created, but who am I to invade their space?...I wasn’t there…I’ll be an outcast…It’ll be almost impossible to blend in…And I can’t even call myself an American either…I refuse to…I’m not “American” enough…I’d be a fool to believe that…So, I don’t belong here nor there…Hmm…Interesting, right?...I mean, what am I supposed to do with myself?...I could pick a side and stick to it for the rest of my life…I mean, my passport says I’m an U.S. citizen…Therefore, that makes me an American, right?...I don’t think so…I’m just not American enough…That’s why I want to travel…I want to find my “home”…You have your place you call “home”, right?...Well, I don’t have that, yet…Therefore, I’ll travel…Maybe I’ll find that place here in the U.S. or maybe in the Dominican Republic…I don’t know…What I do know is that I’m real excited…Because, although I’m always confused as shit as to who I really am, I know that someday I’ll find “home”…You understand?...That feeling of hope, you know…To hope you’ll find that place where you belong…That place where you start a family…Or continue it…And you end up living there from generations to generations…It doesn’t matter when you get there…All that matters is that you get there…And it could be anywhere…I mean, last spring break I met a lady who's an American, living in Australia…How awesome is that?...To me, that’s incredible…All I’m saying is that anywhere could be “home”…We no longer live on a planet where traveling is super difficult and people aren’t accepted in places…Nowadays, all it takes is the right legal documents and a plane ticket and you could be on your way “home”...As easy as that


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