Home is where the ballot is
The walk down there was gorgeous, the colors just a week past peak, and Virginia seemed to speak to me in gentler tones than it had before I left for London. I also could clearly see why Virginia Colony was the first English settlement in North America. The historic houses on Broad Street pay homage to some of the dandiest in Blighty, with an American twist - impressive Colonial designs, broad porches, exuberant maples and gorgeous firs.
After I voted - the woman wished me good luck at grad school! - I journeyed over to Starbucks, put my legs up, and watched the day go by. I was musing that it had been the first time in I-don't-know-when that I didn't have some kind of agenda for an hour. The guy beside me had his legs up on the little ottoman and so I had copied him. Then my dad called, perfect timing.
Fun to come back to Falls Church this week, forgetting that it would be the week to vote for a new governor. As a woman with two countries right now, I wasn't quite sure what to do, but it was easy enough to figure out.
"Come down to 300 Park, to City Hall, Saturday between 9 and 5."
It's trite to say "you can't go home again" but not trite to say "there's no place like home." As an American studying in London, I'm often feeling apart. I open newspapers and have no idea who's running for what office, or what anything means exactly. I know who Theresa May is, and now understand why Brexit is a hot-button topic for many, but I can't explain what they do in the Houses of Parliament, not in any real sense.
In London, many people have congratulated me on making it over there, making it into the graduate program in eighteenth-century studies at King's College. I can see from people my age especially a delight, that it's never too late to pursue not only a dream, but a goal. Yet, it is only through traveling abroad and pushing myself to find a flat (unsuccessful thus far), matriculate in a competitive atmosphere (not nearly the smartest girl in the room), and hold my temper on the packed tube (I'm not sure if I'll ever be as polite as they), that I have learned to value my own country.
So on a clear autumn day in Virginia, I am grateful that I am "home" for reading week, that I got to enjoy this day and tick the box for my candidate for governor in this Commonwealth. Who knows, but maybe I'll be, as mom said, a great representative of this country when I return to Blighty. After all, it was Benjamin Franklin, who also was a part of both nations, who first inspired me to study in London when I walked by his house in 2008.
Fun to come back to Falls Church this week, forgetting that it would be the week to vote for a new governor. As a woman with two countries right now, I wasn't quite sure what to do, but it was easy enough to figure out.
"Come down to 300 Park, to City Hall, Saturday between 9 and 5."
It's trite to say "you can't go home again" but not trite to say "there's no place like home." As an American studying in London, I'm often feeling apart. I open newspapers and have no idea who's running for what office, or what anything means exactly. I know who Theresa May is, and now understand why Brexit is a hot-button topic for many, but I can't explain what they do in the Houses of Parliament, not in any real sense.
In London, many people have congratulated me on making it over there, making it into the graduate program in eighteenth-century studies at King's College. I can see from people my age especially a delight, that it's never too late to pursue not only a dream, but a goal. Yet, it is only through traveling abroad and pushing myself to find a flat (unsuccessful thus far), matriculate in a competitive atmosphere (not nearly the smartest girl in the room), and hold my temper on the packed tube (I'm not sure if I'll ever be as polite as they), that I have learned to value my own country.
So on a clear autumn day in Virginia, I am grateful that I am "home" for reading week, that I got to enjoy this day and tick the box for my candidate for governor in this Commonwealth. Who knows, but maybe I'll be, as mom said, a great representative of this country when I return to Blighty. After all, it was Benjamin Franklin, who also was a part of both nations, who first inspired me to study in London when I walked by his house in 2008.
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