Home is where the heart is

Technically, right now I am homeless. I have signed my lease on my Chicago apartment but am living at my mother’s house until I make my official move on August 15. In the past few months, I have lived in Chicago, NYC and Atlanta. The concept of home has completely lost its meaning. I have no idea what to claim as my home. A few days ago, I landed in Atlanta half expecting the NYC skyline and instead was greeted by a Southern heat wave. I had arrived from a magical place that could potentially be called home, Chicago: where I developed and learned a lot about myself in a short time span of 2 months. A few months before that I was living in NYC, my home for the past 8 years where I experienced laughter and tears, great friendships and unforgettable moments. Now, I am staying in my mother’s house in Atlanta, eating traditional Dominican meals everyday, reliving and remembering childhood memories although I grew up in NJ.

“Where is home?” The clear answer is home is where the heart is but I realize that my heart is in so many different places. My heart is in NYC with all the wonderful people I met through Columbia, Teach For America, MLT, CIS 339, Lauren Booker’s Jackie Robinson crew, Abyssinian Baptist Church, FFC, CIEE study abroad, INROADS (I was an honorary member), NSHMBA and more. My heart is also in NYC with my sister, brother and niece. My heart is in Chicago with my classmates who were my true friends before I even knew I would be attending Booth and my newfound friends through Jason Pugh’s social circle. My heart is in Atlanta with my mother, father and sister.

However, after further reflection, I realize that my heart is in many more places than NYC, Atlanta and Chicago. My heart is also in Los Angeles, London, Boston, Houston, Philly, Hong Kong, Durham, New Zealand, Ithaca, Twin Cities, Ann Arbor, DC and so many more places. I have been extremely blessed to meet so many amazing people, who have touched my life in many different ways. These are people who are not just in my “network”. I consider their residences my home; I can call and tell them I am crashing for a few days and they would welcome me with open arms. So, I am not homeless. Home is where the heart is and I know I have found a home with so many people, who hold a special piece of my heart.