Since coming to Yale, I have been home for break a total of six times - my freshman October Break, both Thanksgiving Breaks, Summer Break, and both Christmas Breaks. Each break has chronicled my growing connection to Yale as a place I call home.
When I first arrived at Yale for Freshman move-in, I didn’t know the extent with which the coming year would challenge me with homesickness. For context, I grew up in a town called Allen in the state of Oklahoma, population <1,000. I spent my life dreaming of getting out, and when my senior year came, I began looking solely into colleges no less than a few hours on a plane away, predominantly on opposite coasts of the United States (and I briefly considered Canada). When I committed to Yale, no fear could be detected within me. I was only excited to finally move into a new, more exciting stage of my life.
The gas station that faithfully served me throughout my high school years
Surprisingly, the hard feelings I felt over the course of my first year at Yale were manifestations of what I now know to be homesickness. Sometimes, things just felt off. I missed the familiarity of my hometown and its familiar faces and gas stations. I practically flew the plane back to Oklahoma myself when October break of 2023 came, and being home provided a much-needed reprieve from all of the longing I had been feeling, and when the week was over, I found myself being excited to go back to campus. From that point, I felt a little better about my day to day Yale experience. Thanksgiving came, and the same happened. Christmas break was much longer - it allowed me to feel as though I had actually moved back into my hometown again. Such rediscovered familiarity and more time to reconnect with my high school friends left me a little anxious about coming back to campus once mid-January hit.
Lifelong dreams were fulfilled when I began my journey home for Christmas Break and saw the Rockefeller Tree for the first time.
Spring semester brought a whole new slew of challenges and successes, but by the time that long stretch between Christmas and Spring break was coming to a close, I was in desperate need of a hometown recharge. Similarly to October break, it rejuvenated me, and those last weeks of my Freshman year after Spring Break were some of my absolute favorites. I finally looked around and felt like Yale was a place I was excited to call my home. My friendships felt more solidified than ever. The weather was getting better, and I was content. Summer break brought a whole new level of recharge - three whole months away from campus could either destroy the delicate happiness I was feeling with my New Haven home or strengthen it; fortunately it strengthened it. I guess it’s true that absence makes the heart grow fonder.
My town is so rural that I don’t even fly into Oklahoma; instead, I fly into Dallas, Texas before driving the rest of the journey. I love Dallas, though, so I suppose it’s alright.
What each of these breaks brought me were strangely simultaneously wonderful and melancholy experiences. While I loved being home and seeing my friends and family again, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my home wasn’t quite my home anymore. That feeling grew stronger with every break. With each one, I consistently found myself missing Yale, the campus, the people, the weather etc. Though in some ways it hurt not feeling like I fully had a place in the only home I had ever known prior to college, I was also gladdened by the fact that a new home was being constructed in New Haven.
This is a park in Oklahoma that I frequent for peaceful walks, treacherous runs, and aesthetic reading and writing sessions.
During my first semester, I worried at the pace with which I was growing accustomed to college life - it felt like everyone else was doing so much better, having so much fun, so much faster. What I have found in time, though, is that 1. The beliefs I had about those around me weren’t always so reflective of reality, and 2. Time is a very individual thing. Everybody comes to things at their own pace, and there is nothing wrong with that. Though it may have taken nearly a whole year for me to find my true place at Yale, it’s my place all the same. Though it hurt for a minute to realize I was growing apart from my hometown, it was equally empowering to know I was shaping into something new and finding my place in the world at large. Coming into Sophomore year, I excitedly came back to a place that felt fully comfortable to me, back to the people I was fully comfortable and happy with. It takes time (and maybe even a little pain) to come into the person Yale and the world will know you as, but it is entirely worth it in the end.
