Don't get me wrong, Oxford is a beautiful city, but sometimes I feel like dropping everything here and going back home.
For me, home has come to mean all of those things. I grew up in Ladbroke Grove, and although it's been through some changes recently - yuppification is the word that comes to mind - for me it has and will always be, home. Despite brief stints abroad as a child, and as part of my degree, I've spent my entire life returning to my family and friends in West London.
My relationship with home hasn't always been rosy though. As a child, and at secondary school, family situations meant that home as a 'physical entity,' wasn't always my favourite place to be. Added to that was the fact that for a significant period during my teenage years, I felt unsafe going out in my local area. Of course I had places and people that I loved and felt happy around, but I spent a long time wishing I could be anywhere else.
My relationship with home hasn't always been rosy though. As a child, and at secondary school, family situations meant that home as a 'physical entity,' wasn't always my favourite place to be. Added to that was the fact that for a significant period during my teenage years, I felt unsafe going out in my local area. Of course I had places and people that I loved and felt happy around, but I spent a long time wishing I could be anywhere else.
Then I came to Oxford. At first I absolutely loved it. I felt safe and thought I had found a great group of people to surround myself with. I wasn't worried about missing home. After a while though, I started to realise that actually although I didn't feel physically threatened anymore, I felt emotionally threatened by the people and the environment that is sometimes synonymous with being here. I found that a lot of people made fun of my accent and the reputation of my home, making assumptions about me, which they often didn't restrain from sharing, based on that. A number of people announced that they were scared of me (which always struck me as odd, I mean, if you're scared of someone, surely you wouldn't say it to their face?) Perhaps my favourite comment was "I would feel safe walking down a dark alley at night with you".
Whenever I go back to the dark alleys of London, I realise that actually, I feel so much more comfortable there than I ever have at university. I have certainly made friends in Oxford from similar backgrounds, who I love dearly and feel I can honestly be myself around, but I have also met people who have lived very comfortable, sheltered lives, that I just can't empathise with. There's absolutely nothing wrong with having that kind of life, of course, but I must admit that to begin with, I didn't feel like I could be myself around those people.
I realised very quickly that the environment I grew up in had pushed me, in a way that other people's simply hadn't, all the way out of my comfort zone, and into achieving my goals. I also realised that instead of trying to escape that, I should be grateful and honest about it. Now I have a whole new appreciation for the places and people of my childhood, because without them, I wouldn't be half the person I am today. From the moment I understood this, I've never tried to modify my accent, or dilute myself or my background in any way. That's because I'm proud of who I am and where I'm from.
As I sit here now, writing just before the final push at the very end of term, I miss home so much it physically hurts. I miss the familiar streets; the faces that I grew up around, and that I can't go anywhere without seeing; the sounds and smells; the atmosphere; even my home basketball court, and the state of its rims. What I'm saying is, that although I can totally understand the need for growth away from home, and the occasional change of scene, I also value, beyond expression, the memories, stories, and the way my home has developed me as a person. I hope that whatever homes means to you, you've found the same strength and potential from it as I have.
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