From Where I Sit: 家

By Zhaosen Guo ’21, Contributing Writer

I feel content and fortunate to have lived in many places which I can somehow regard as “home,” because my standard for calling a place home only requires a bed and a desk. But the problem is that I can never claim to know any of those places well enough. Photo courtesy of Zillow.

Whenever someone asks me “where are you from,” or “where’s home to you,” I’m surprised to realize how much my answer varies. Back in 2013, when I was an exchange student in Wisconsin, I would automatically answer, “Beijing, China”–because it was the only place that I “came from.”

Eight years later, my home and residency has grown to a longer list of locations, and I pick from one of them depending on the situation when I am being asked. When I visited friends in California, I explained that I flew from upstate New York, where I have lived and studied for four years. But if people inquired about where I was traveling during college breaks, I would respond “Guangzhou,” where my parents moved. And if one insisted on knowing my absolute origin, then I would say that I was born and raised in Beijing.

I have also updated my list over time–when I first came to Hamilton, I would tell people about the time I spent at a boarding high school in Exton, a small town outside Philly. I noticed that I do not refer to Exton as much now–not because people stopped asking–but because for me, it has become less relevant. Next semester, since I will be moving to another state for graduate school, I am sure that at some point, I won’t refer to Clinton, NY as much. One day, just like Exton, it won’t be on my list anymore.

I feel content and fortunate to have lived in many places which I can somehow regard as “home,” because my standard for calling a place home only requires a bed and a desk. But the problem is that I can never claim to know any of those places well enough. My four years at Hamilton College in Clinton has been so far the longest duration I have spent in one single location across the U.S. Today, I am about to leave this place behind, without having tried all the foods or getting to know the many locals–I’ve never even gone to the Utica Zoo to see that python that got loose on my floor during my sophomore year.

I still haven’t found a place where I will live permanently. Not yet. Although I have stable housing and am treated as a “resident alien” by the IRS, I am “homeless” in spirit. Everywhere I go, I get to know people there, become a bit attached to the area, and then I have to move on.

So where is home? Well, I can’t tell you. I don’t know if I will ever be accustomed to living in a permanent home. Maybe digital nomad is the way to go. Maybe, I will eventually be tied down by jobs or family, or maybe, I will return to China and reclaim my title of a “Beijinger.” For now, I am just excited to open the door leading to the next chapter of my life, wherever it may be, as long as I have a desk I can work at and a roof over my head.