If you meet a student three weeks into their freshman year, either here at RIT or any other college, and they tell you they don’t miss home, they are either lying or are one in a million. Three weeks into school the allure of college has faded, your friends are beginning to form, and the work is beginning to pile up. The realization hits that college isn’t just a ‘sleep, eat, party, repeat’ fantasy, but that there's a lot of hard work in between each of those steps. I’d like to say that the ‘week three’ feeling fades after years of being here, but it doesn’t. Despite being at RIT for over two years, I sometimes have the urge to just relive my high school days with my family, crazy dogs, and the feel of my own bed. Thats why instead of settling in and further trying to call this orange and brown city my home, I ran. Just last night I drove six hours home to hang onto a life that is now behind me. Mom’s not-so-great cooking, my sister telling me to turn down the music, and taking out the garbage are all things I was so happy to have again for this short time.
However, over the years I have grown to love RIT, and more importantly the friends I've found. The experiences I've made here will last forever, yet I still consider ‘home’ my suburban New Jersey house just outside of NYC. I like to think of RIT as a vessel, or a long term hotel, not because it means less to me than my home, but because I know it’s not permanent. All of us have a fixed time here - old students leave and new students arrive. Knowing this only makes me greater appreciate the time I have here and cherish every moment of it, whether it’s randomly slip-n-sliding on the Greek Lawn or a snowball fight in Global Village. Yet even knowing my time is limited here at RIT, it’s still good to run home every once in a while and enjoy Mom’s cooking, and that's okay if you find you want to do the same.