April 19, 2021
The Ever-Changing Definition of Home
By Ava Webster
Webster’s dictionary defines home as “one’s place of residence.” For me, that’s 404 Margo Lane, the house on the bend of the street, in the suburbs of Philadelphia. It’s the big backyard with the swing set that my sisters and I would transform into a pirate ship or a castle for every game we could conjure up in our imaginations. It’s the basement with the stage where we would put on performances and where hours passed by as we were immersed in the world of American Girl Dolls. It’s the window bench in the kitchen where I would spend countless hours stressing over homework and college applications, but also where I would enjoy meals with the people I love. It isn’t just the brick house itself that defines “home” to me, but also the memories I have created there with my family and friends.
However, my definition of “home” extends beyond just the physical house and the memories created there. It includes Valley Forge Park where my friends and I celebrate warm weather by picnicking, laying in the grass and painting, going on hikes, or simply driving with the windows down playing music at a volume that is likely to be concerning for our ears. It includes the ice cream shop where both of my sisters and I worked, and where my friends and I go to sit for hours talking about everything and nothing. It includes my entire neighborhood, where I grew up with so many of my friends and established countless traditions and memories with the people I was surrounded by.
Coming to college, I knew I would love it here, but I never imagined how quickly I would come to consider Michigan my home – a place I had never even visited before moving-in last August. While it’s not the place I grew up in, and a far distance from any of my family, the people I’ve met and the places I’ve grown to love have shifted my perspective on the concept of home.
First semester, West Quad and the people I met in my dorm came to feel like home. The lobby, nicknamed the “Harry Potter room,” provided me with a change of scenery from the four walls of my dorm room where I sat taking class or doing homework The seating areas in the basement became our makeshift dining hall, where my friends and I often ate meals together and reflected on our days. The courtyard, where we took in every last bit of warm weather while it lasted, became a place of solace from the monotony of remote learning. The students in my hall were some of the first people I met at Michigan and shaped my first year experience. The combination of these people and places gave me a sense of comfort and happiness, establishing a home away from home. Although West Quad is no longer the place I call home in Ann Arbor, I now live in a cozy brick house with two friends half a mile from the Big House. With its decked out Michigan-themed basement and the stove that always causes the fire alarm to go off, our temporary place of stay has very quickly felt like home to me.
Even places where I haven’t lived have become part of what I consider to be home. Living in close proximity to the stadium, I often drive by it. While I’ve yet to experience the thrill of a Michigan football game, I still feel an immense amount of comfort and pride every time I pass by the towering “M.” I feel at home as I walk down State Street, passing the red statue outside the art museum and strolling by the fluorescent theater marquees.
Home isn’t just somewhere you live; it isn’t just your place of residence, as the dictionary defines it. It’s more than that – it’s constantly changing, being redefined by the people and places that are most important to you. Everyone’s definition of the word is different and unique to their own personal comforts and joys in life.
As my days left at Michigan dwindle down, I’m excited to return back to the place I’ve called home the majority of my life. Sure, going back to Philly means leaving behind the people and places I now consider home here in Ann Arbor, but this bittersweet goodbye just reminds me of how lucky I am to call this place home.
Edited By Hallie Lancz