Crossing The Same River Twice

I'm home for an extended visit, and the adage is indeed true: you can't cross the same river twice because at the point where you crossed, it's not the same river and you're not the same (wo)man.

*drops $20 in the collection plate*

Truer words were never spoken.

I've been gone a long time: 11 years and some change, to be exact. And I would expect that some changes would occur: new buildings, things like that. What I didn't count on was that the biggest change would be me.

To say that I am not the same person who left here 11 years ago is an understatement. I have lived on both coasts, and mainly up north. I've experienced things that a lot of people haven't (some of which I hope no one will ever have to deal with). I've met so many different types of people that have opened my eyes to the true vastness of this big rock we call Earth. I've been able to live a gypsy life due to being single with no children (I had a cat, God rest her furry soul, but she fit under an airplane seat and rather enjoyed flying), and my life is the richer for it (more financially challenged, but still richer).

My extended visit while I figure out my next move has, so far, been a challenge. Let's stick in another adage: the more things change, the more they stay the same. Yes, there are new buildings, new highways, and new housing developments, but the overall mentality is still the same. It's comforting, yet it also saddens me. I may have been a square peg among round holes back in the day, but now I'm like a camel trying to fit through the eye of a needle.

A relative kept asking me my plans for a Saturday, being that she was concerned about how much time I was keeping to myself. What she fails to understand is: I have friends here. Old friends, good friends, and they will always be such. However, over the years our lives have taken different paths: some have children. Some are in relationships or married. Some have to care for ailing relatives. Some are focused on careers. That being said, my absence may have created a slight vacuum that they have filled otherwise, and it would be arrogant of me to think that I could just slide back into my previous role. For one, I no longer fit and for two, that spot may no longer be available.

(more on my arrogance later).

When I was a Girl Scout many, many moons ago, I learned a song that said,

Make new friends but keep the old
One is silver and the other gold

Perhaps it's time to mine for silver and just keep the gold in a vault: something to be taken out once in a while and admired, and polished to keep it shining...before returning it to the vault due to being so valuable and in need of protection and security.

Now, back to my arrogance: I'm in an area with a lot of colleges within a 15-mile radius. In my hometown, one of them is extremely prominent (and a sister institution has bought up most of my hometown. *sigh*). Not trying to be mean, but one would think that with all of that brainpower concentrated in the same spot, there would be a higher level of...intellectual discourse, shall we say.

Nope.

Like most of us, we are loyal to our alma maters and, of course, think that we went to the best school in the universe. At home, with so many institutions of higher learning so close together, that cliquishness is taken to a whole 'nother level. One may be forgiven for attending a different school within that aforementioned 15-mile radius, and you may get a (albeit begrudging) pass for going to school outside of the radius but within the state (and it depends on the school as well)...but woe unto those who crossed state lines altogether (like me).

It doesn't really help matters that my alma mater is considered one of the top schools in the country (it's even has a more prestigious reputation than the big-dog college in my hometown--we even spawned a two-term US president!). I went to school with minor royalty, celebrities and kids of celebrities (Missy Gold--that cute little girl on the old show Benson-- and Chutney Ross, daughter of Diana Ross, also graduated from there). It was difficult to get admitted to my alma mater, and even more difficult to get out. That, combined with the area in which the school is located, lends its alumni a...yes, an arrogance. We not only made the cut, but we ran the gauntlet and got out...bruised, battered, poorer, illusions shattered, but alive and with that huge piece of lambskin in hand. A lot of folks can't say that. It's understood (and even subtly encouraged) in the area where the school is, since a lot of us get tapped for jobs there after graduation. But outside of that area, well...the wicket gets sticky.

Outside of a college environment, there seems to be a lack of...well, people like me. I can't describe it; it 's just a feeling, a way of life that knows you've danced with the best of the best and came out on the other side, and the people around you are cut from the same cloth. I mean, staying in one place my whole life is such a foreign concept to me (and kids to boot!), yet I am surrounded by many who have done just that. Finding a common ground (for me) just becomes that much more difficult.

Sounds arrogant? Yep. But that's my head space right now, and I miss it.

I miss a certain level of intellectual stimulation, even as I understood that this may be the case upon coming back. I miss a certain level of acceptance of differences. I miss being able to truly be me. Coming back, I've had to try to stay true to myself in the face of those who wish to keep me in a box so that they could feel more comfortable (and safe), and it's beginning to stifle.

Sometimes I feel like Louis Farrakhan at a pig pickin'.

Thanks for stopping by.

T.