Home. Home is a question I’ve been struggling with for a while. In our globalized society the question of home has gotten more complicated than ever. There’s ‘Where do you come from?’ ‘Where were you born and raised?’ ‘Where do your parents live?’ ‘Where do you pay your taxes?’ ‘Which place goes deepest inside you?,’ and ‘Where do you try to spend most of your time?’ Like many white Americans, my origins come from all over, a cultural mixing-pot of Eastern European. I was born in Silver Spring Maryland, but when you ask where I grew I’ll more likely say either say DC or Baltimore. Yet, when I was finally given the choice of where to live I chose Boston for my undergrad. My heart lies in both places, as do my taxpayer dollars. One of my favorite authors once said “Home has less to do with a piece of soil than, you could say, with a piece of soul.” So where have I left my soul? That would be Paris, where I chose to spend my first year after graduation. Where I had my first “adult” job. Where I grew more than I ever thought I could in a year’s time. Where I saw and experienced more incredible things than I even imagined. And where I made some of the best friends I could have ever asked for. So, my answer to the theme “Home/Comfort” is a dedication to Paris; to my two actual homes and to the many places and people who made me feel at home.