After a busy jumpstart of the time period, and an extended interval of adaptation—Philly managed to turn into, or higher mentioned, really feel acquainted. Not house, however a checkpoint. Courses continued getting tougher as every week handed, which got here as a shock, since in my house college a course normally lasts 4 months and the tempo is usually slower. Midterms two weeks right into a time period just isn’t actually one thing that I can say I’m used to, however a robust basis and group at first of the time period allowed me to maintain up with every little thing, and I can proudly say that I’m excelling.
Wanting a break from the educational rush, I made a decision to take a weekend journey to Washington, D.C., to witness Inauguration Day—an expertise I imagined could be a firsthand take a look at democracy in movement. However actuality had different plans. The occasion was canceled, leaving the town quieter than I had anticipated, its streets carrying an odd stillness. With out the grand spectacle, the patriotic speeches, and the crowds swelling in unity or division, I used to be left with a special model of the town—one which hummed at a slower frequency, but risky, accompanied by political dissonance. With nowhere to be, I ended up on the Nationwide Gallery of Artwork, wandering by way of its huge halls, letting centuries of human expression wash over me.
Possibly that’s what I wanted greater than the political theater, a quiet reminder of what we go away behind when time swallows us complete. Artwork, in contrast to us, stays. I walked previous portraits of males, battle scenes that glorified conflict, the great thing about mild captured by impressionism, spiritual imagery that promised salvation, and summary items that made me marvel if I used to be meant to grasp them in any respect. And in each room, in each piece, there was proof of us—of humanity, messy and loud and contradictory.
It’s chaotic, isn’t it? How we, as a species, determined sooner or later that merely being earthlings wasn’t sufficient. We drew borders on a planet that by no means wanted them. We created classes, names, and definitions so particular, that we forgot all of us come from the identical organism. We fragmented ourselves into nations, forging identities so intricately that now, stepping exterior of your individual predefined field means feeling like an imposter. I don’t just like the phrase alien—it feels distant, chilly, otherworldly. But when I’m being sincere, that’s precisely how I really feel most days. A satellite tv for pc with out an orbit, floating by way of this expertise, shut sufficient to watch, by no means fairly belonging. I attempt, although. I attempt to slot in, to put on the human American pores and skin and transfer by way of the world as if it’s my very own. I say “How’s it going?” as a substitute of “How are you?” I nod at strangers once I move them. I order my espresso the way in which I hear others do, adjusting my accent barely, simply sufficient to not should repeat myself. I speak in regards to the Eagles despite the fact that I don’t know a factor about soccer. It’s not a deception, not precisely. It’s adaptation. It’s survival. It’s an try at assimilation whereas realizing there’ll at all times be a background—a voice, an intuition, a reminiscence that retains me tethered to elsewhere.
And that elsewhere? It feels farther on daily basis.
Possibly that’s what makes this expertise bittersweet, but so fascinating. There’s the fun of studying a brand new system, of seeing issues from a contemporary perspective, of accumulating moments that can sooner or later really feel like a special lifetime. However there’s additionally the burden of realizing that I’m at all times in translation, at all times navigating between inputs and outputs of who I’m, who I must be to mix in, and who I’m wanting to turn into. And beneath all of it, the attention that the world round me just isn’t as steady as I want it had been. The nation I discover myself in feels tense, and stressed. Conversations shift simply to concern—of the long run, of the previous repeating itself, of issues falling aside.
I pay attention. I observe. I exist within the area between familiarity and estrangement. If I don’t absolutely belong wherever, maybe that merely means I’m meant to maneuver fluidly by way of totally different locations, carrying items of every with me. It’s not a comforting thought, nor an unsettling one—only a actuality I’m studying to simply accept. Some questions don’t have solutions, and possibly the seek for belonging is one in every of them.
Fairly than exhausting myself chasing readability, I select a special form of launch as of late. I placed on What’s Up? by 4 Non Blondes, let the refrain construct, and with no reservations, I throw my voice into the air: What’s happening? There’s one thing cathartic about letting all of it out, an unfiltered second of give up to the uncertainty of all of it. An intimate riot towards the world whereas within the consolation of my room.
On the similar time, I enable myself to grieve the model of me that existed earlier than this journey earlier than I turned so aware of borders, each bodily and invisible. However mourning just isn’t the identical as resisting change. Even within the midst of displacement, I select to embrace what makes me human—empathy, connection, and the power to adapt. I would at all times carry the sensation of being an outsider, however that doesn’t make me any much less part of this world… no matter which means.
And for now, that understanding is sufficient.


