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Journals

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Going Home Again

October 11, 2012   

It’s been almost eight weeks since I’ve been home, a span I’ve never ventured before.  With Fall Break finally here, I’m grabbing a few days of rest and relaxation.  Right now, I am sitting on a train bound for Albany, and from there I drive homeward to Vermont.

I attended a boarding secondary school; separation is nothing new to me.  I learned long ago how to do my own laundry, how to clean my room, and how to reach my parents through cell phone calls.  But my high school just outside of Boston was only two hours away from southern Vermont; I generally made tri-weekly sojourns home for a weekend.  Given the commute to Hamilton, I cannot come back save for long breaks.

The last time I was home, the trees were full and green; the air was warm, even humid; the sun set at eight o’clock.  I was a stranger to Hamilton, rushing to complete all the necessary paperwork before orientation.  I was quiet and anxious as the summer sprinted toward its ultimate conclusion.  I can now spot at least five friends among the dozens of Hamilton students sitting ahead of me on the train—each one bound home.

I know this first visit is the important one.  My family wants a personal impression of Hamilton (outside of these journals). They want to know how the boy they watched grow up is faring at college.  The names and stories I tell this weekend will paint their interpretations of Hamilton for the next four years. The nice part is I have names and stories to tell.

I’ve been a long time at Hamilton and unequivocally enjoyed every minute of it.  Those busy weeks full of work, cross country, debate practice and free nights have been the best times of my life.  But after two midterms, a quiz and a lab report this week—I need to take a breath, to go home.