Homesick

I remember going off to college at the ripe old age of 17 wanting excitement, involvement. . . drama!

It was 1967.  Sit-ins filled the newspapers.  Bobby Kennedy was campaigning.  We were going to change the world!

My parents drove off down that long driveway after dropping me off and I felt -- homesick!  What a disappointing feeling that was.  How could I be so banal?

I thought there must be something wrong with me.   No one ever wrote about Plato being homesick, or Lincoln being distracted by thoughts of family dinners around a big dining room table.  Setting out to join the justice leagues, to become a part of history, to join the hallowed people who walk the halls of academia means shedding those mundane parts in return for passion and purpose.  Only for me it didn't.

Thoughts of what I'd left behind swallowed me up.  But the worst part was the feeling of uniqueness I felt -- not scholarly brilliance, but aloneness -- and I thought of that as I walked around the park the other day.

Looking at all the new young faces moving in I could almost smell the homesickness.  School hadn't quite started, strangers filled the air, the unknown was the only real known at that point in time and I wondered how many of them felt like I did nearly 46 years ago? 

What I thought was a weakness, a flaw, was really an opening, but it took me years to understand that.  Strengths set us apart, but weakness gives us a common base, a place we can all relate to and build on with the surety that loving acts of human-ness are the place where the most enduring changes begin and grab hold.

Homesickness is nature's way of reminding me that I am loved and loving.  Translating that into the global community is the ultimate involvement and believe me it comes with enough drama and excitement for a lifetime.