I am a Coloradan, born and raised here, although I did not always consider this to be a point of pride. Don’t get me wrong – I loved Colorado, but something about it felt too small. I was consumed by wanderlust from a young age, and I resolved to venture abroad as soon as possible.
“As soon as possible” turned out to be right after high school, when I attended an international university in London for my first year of college. Much to my surprise, my travels brought me right back to where I began: home. While the writer in me winces a bit at the cliché, it is no less true. It is one of the many ironies peculiar to the human experience that the things you search hardest for end up being those that have stared you in the face for years.
My newly rediscovered identity as a Coloradan was born from reflection on the nature of identity and background. When I first arrived in London, I was repeatedly asked the deceptively simple question: “Where are you from?”
This can often be difficult to answer. I’ve met students who are nominally U.S. citizens but have never lived on American soil. I’ve met those who have lived in Britain for as long as they can remember, but are not British citizens. I’ve met Albanians living in Greece and Palestinians living in exile. Where are all of these people from? What is their “nationality”? Answering either question alone does not begin to describe the true nature of a person’s background. And the answers are important; they are reflective of the way you (and others) perceive your identity. They also create a cultural perspective from which none of us can escape.
Along with my personal revelation at the complexity of others’ nationalities came an inevitable backlash; it put into harsh perspective the simplicity of my own. I have always lived in the same area of Colorado. It seemed that even the other Americans I met at school had an extensive history of living abroad, and all I could say was, “I’m from Colorado, in the States.” Eventually I stopped mentioning Colorado at all because it had little meaning to others; most non-Americans had never heard of it, and I even had an American student try to tell me Colorado was between Washington state and California. It was in this way that I ceased to identify myself as someone from Colorado and gradually became “from the States.” No one pressed me for further information; as far as many Europeans are concerned, the U.S. consists of California, New York and the stuff in between.
This general method of identification bothered me. I began to recognize just how much my life in Colorado had shaped me as an individual. Despite being so eager to leave my home behind, I took the time to take a second glance. And the more I looked, the more I came to appreciate and love Colorado all over again. There are few sights in Europe to compare with the Rocky Mountains at dawn. Walking by Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament is not the same as hiking in the woods – and believe me, the smell of central London is nothing like the smell of pine in the mountain air.
Being abroad has not lessened my love of home at all, as I expected it might; it has strengthened and reaffirmed it. Nor has it diminished my enthusiasm for travel; I love London and all it has to offer, and have resolved to take many more journeys abroad.
But I realize that part of the beauty of travel is in coming home, because the more we learn about “lands beyond,” the more we can appreciate the things we take for granted.
I am a Coloradan, not just because geography and chance have placed me there, but because I choose to be.
Now, when people ask me where I’m from, I proudly say, “I’m from Colorado.”
And that ain’t bad.
Sarah Kuiken (skuiken@gmail.com) is a full-time student and music enthusiast who has recently returned to Colorado after completing her freshman year of college in London.
