After a long day out, the first thing I do is to go to my room, lie down, relax and unwind. When I am in my room, I can empty my mind of all the garbage that has accumulated during the day and concentrate on what I need or want to do. I play videogames in my room, I study in my room and I watch anime on the computer in my room. While my house is where I live, “home,” for me, is best defined as the place where I do my work, enjoy my time alone and go back to, which perfectly describes my room.
“Home,” or my room, is a relatively medium-sized bedroom with one bed, a desk beside the bed, and two bookcases on either side of the room. The bookcases are packed with different kinds of books, from fiction to my textbooks, as well as some loose paper and spare notebooks. It is on the second floor of my family’s house, and has a big window that overlooks the cul-de-sac that hour house is on. The room is relatively soundproof, so the only sounds I hear are those that occur within the room, or on the second floor occasionally, usually some type of music or video playing in my brother’s room. The smell of sweat and paper fill the area, and usually, I have to open the window to air these smells out. The room feels warm and occasionally stuffy on some nights, but with windows, I am able to get it back to an optimal temperature.
When I go back “home” I feel as though I can ignore the world around me and simply be “myself.” I do not have to worry about anyone outside watching me and I can do whatever I want without fear of being judged. However, at the same time, I sometimes feel caged by the room, unable to make any progress as a person due to the confinement of being in one space. One reason for this is that my “home” is synonymous to a comfort zone; a place where I feel safe, yet also hinders my progress due to not taking any steps forward. In my room, I cannot interact with anyone on the outside, and in order to make progress, one must interact with people. At other times, I feel that the room is keeping me from seeing the world outside and I feel the incredible desire to walk out and explore the world.
Sometimes, I leave my “home” in order to interact with the world outside and try to come out of my shell little more each day. In the end, I still come back to my room, but I still believe that I make progress each day. I come back “home” in order to finish the jobs that I get from those outside. For example, after coming back from college, I go back “home” to finish assignments, study for tests and other projects, then think about how to move forward once I am done with those. I do the same for any other place on the outside that has given me some form of job, such as club duties, jobs and requests from friends.
Comparing my definition of home to that of the definition of the people that we have read from, mine is much more personal. In John Berger’s article, he was focused on the actual definition of home and what connotations that the actual word has. John Steinbeck, on the other hand, talks about how people constantly destroy the land that they find over and over again and claim it as “home.” I prefer talking about my interactions with home and what that means to me, as I feel I can get a better impact out of my paper that way.
My “home,” being my room opens very many possibilities. I am in a place I am familiar with, yet also a place where I cannot progress further. My room is a place where I can come back to but at the same time, a place I want to leave. In the end, I believe that “home” is the place where one comes and goes, but eventually leaves behind in order to progress further in the world.