Feeling Glad to Be Home
“I’ve always believed that a large part of who we are is correlated with where we grew up. The places, people and stories from where we grew up are what, to a great extent, comprise our identity. Whether you have lived in the same community since birth, building deep friendships with those around you, or have lived moving from place to place, meeting new people and seeing new things as you go, your identity is greatly influenced by those environments around you, and that is why my identity has always been associated with my traveling as a kid.
Early when I was first born my father enlisted in the navy in order to pay for the medical school and residency costs of becoming a surgeon. In that, he was now obligated to perform his duties as a medical trainee, and eventually practitioner, for the service of the military. While in the beginning he was mostly stationed at a naval base in Norfolk, VA, he was eventually reassigned to different bases across the country. My mother, my sisters and I traveled with him.
The first real memories I have are those of Japan, when my family and I were stationed on a naval base in Okinawa. Many people ask me about this particular place, mostly because it’s the most fascinating when compared with the well-known states of Florida, Colorado and the forgotten state of Virginia. However, to me, Japan probably had the least sway on my overall identity considering I knew no one, and I really only lived on base with other military families doing normal American things.
Going off of that, I would say that the real beginnings of my identity were formed out of my life in Virginia. It was here that I found my first real friends, Annabelle, a rather loud but effervescent character, and Maddy, one of my closest friends as a child. My friendship with Maddy formed from preschool to about second grade, and in those years we watched the classics of Youtube ranging from “Potter Puppet Pals” to “Weird-Al,” and explored our backyards with a wild enthusiasm, even going as far as to build a “bush-fort” in the woods of the neighborhood. Unfortunately, I lost contact with Maddie and Annabelle; however, I will always remember the marks they made on me and the memories that we made there.
After Virginia was Colorado, and the transition from coastal waters to crisp mountain snow was pretty rough in the beginning. I was eight then, and I had no idea who anybody was. The only solace I had was in the igloos I made with my sisters and the skiing I tried with my dad. And it was then that I really began to miss my friends back in Virginia; however, within a couple months, I met Ian, an adventurous skier from my class who was just as new to Colorado as I was. Ian and I formed another friendship, much like the ones I made in Virginia, and in that friendship, all of the anxiety of moving seemed to melt away. Ian and I skied together nearly every weekend, exploring the reputable Vail mountain and all of its surrounding village areas as we did, and in the summer, we would go hiking around the mountain lakes and biking around the mountain towns. Unfortunately, my stay in Colorado was short; nevertheless, I built another lasting friendship, and many more vivid memories, and in that, Colorado molded another large part of my identity.
Lastly, I arrived back in the cheese-state of Wisconsin in the well-known village of Whitefish Bay. While not necessarily in a different state, Whitefish Bay feels a world away from Mequon, and the life I lived there was monumentally different than the life I live here. I went to Saint Monica Catholic school, and there I instantly found two friends that welcomed me to the community. Joe and Tim, two amazing and caring friends I had in the rather awkward stages of grades 4-5, made the transition from mountain-state to cheese-state all the more easy through the friendship that I made with them, and much like my friends before, we adventured and explored our way through the tight-knit town of Whitefish Bay, seeking out anything to distract us from the bore of a Catholic school and the cold of a midwest winter. And although it seemed this was where I was meant to settle down, a new member of the family (the third of five sisters) forced us to move to the town of Mequon.
Mequon is the last chapter of my childhood, and the longest, but to be truthful, it was also the best. The other locations may have been exotic, adventurous, and interesting to see, but Mequon, the overlooked midwestern town that everyone seems to despise, is one of the most wonderful places I’ve ever had the luck of living in. Mequon has done this in innumerable ways, but I can think in short of a memorable few. The first being the remarkable schools I was able to be a part of. Lake Shore, and Homestead drastically increased my academic performance when compared with my years of previous schooling, and not only that, the environment was fundamentally nicer and more conducive to social involvement than in previous locations. I have been to school all around the world, and I can confidently say that I’ve never been in a place with more qualified and caring staff than here in Mequon. Yet, this is only one of many other things that make Mequon what it is. The moment I arrived here, I saw how caring and nice the people of this community are towards each other and towards the actual town in where they live. Which leads me to my last, and most notable reason for my loving the town of Mequon, my friends. The friendships I built here have, for the first time in my life, given me the feeling like I truly belong in the community and with the people. They have given me nearly all of my most remarkable memories, and have changed me into a person I’m proud to be. They’ve fostered in me all of my best qualities, and quelled all of my worst. I will always be grateful for the sacrifices they’ve made, and the care they’ve put into making me feel like this place truly is my home.
The question I get asked most when I tell people I’ve traveled my whole life is unequivocally, ‘so… where was your favorite place to live?’ And while many people may think it was Japan for the weird and quirky toys, or Virginia for sunny coasts, or Colorado for the beautiful slopes… I know, undoubtedly, that Mequon, despite the cold weather and the stereotypes, is, and always will be, the biggest part of my identity, and the greatest part of my life. And in that, I’m lucky to be able to call myself a Highlander.” (Jake Zehms, junior)