by Liza Chernobay
Illustrated by Charlie To
As London’s pubs serve the final rounds of mulled wine and Somerset House disassembles it’s famous ice rink, LSE students are slowly entering the flow of city life after the winter break. With most of the Christmas decorations gone, the previously-illuminated LSE campus seems grey and alien, evoking nostalgia for the warmth and relaxation of home.
The idea of ‘home’ has a variety of meanings: it is at once a feeling, a place, a symbol of family, friendships and a basket of memories. Despite its vast symbolism, ‘home’ is integral to creating a sense of belonging, comfort and happiness, so understanding where ‘home’ is and how one can feel ‘at home’ is crucial, especially for university students learning to lead independent lives.
Many LSE students associate the idea of home with people – their families, friends and warming memories connected to spending time together. For Will, a first year History student, home embodies “the feeling of being missed” by those close to his heart, including his beloved pets: after all, he says, “you can call your parents any time, but you can’t call your dog!”
Moreover, home is a physical and cultural base: this could be a house where one spent their childhood, a familiar neighbourhood or a country to fight for. Attachment to a place is especially evident for Eva, a French-Ukrainian student, who has lived in six countries throughout her lifetime, spending her most recent eight years in Ukraine. The “familiarity with the streets” of Kyiv, she says, makes her feel ‘at home’ like no other place – walking down the familiar routes, frequenting favourite cafés and discussing memories of home with Ukrainian friends makes Eva truly “happy”. Together with geographical location, the languages we speak with family and the foods and smells we grow accustomed to all shape cultural identities, which are fundamentally related to individual perceptions of ‘home’.
Attempting to recreate the warmth and sense of belonging to home at university, many students turn to their cultural and national identity. “Moving to a different cultural environment often causes you to become more attached to your own culture, values and nationality in order to preserve [your identity]” says Eli, a thirdyear student from Austria. “[The need to clarify where I’m from at university] made my national identity stronger in my head”. Nationality can therefore not only symbolise home and their ‘old lives’ for students, but also become a treasured marker of individuality and a token of group belonging.
Alberto and Eva strongly suggest the need to “make use of [your] culture” to feel closer to home while at university. Throwing a pasta party or teaching your friends how to make varenyki (Ukrainian dumplings) can promote cultural roots and equally create opportunities for connection with friends who share cultural backgrounds. After all, the students agree, there are few things that create a homely comfort better than the pleasant aftertaste of a home-cooked meal. Additionally, Eva claims that joining a national society at LSE helps her feel “less alone” and creates a “support group” for when she is going through difficult times.
However, not every student at LSE has a luxury of knowing where they come from, turning the process of fitting in to a national group an onerous task for many. For ‘third culture kids’ – people with a mixed national and cultural background – nationality is usually not a marker of belonging, identity, and home. Some ‘international kids’ often feel like “outsiders” when trying to make friends at university, as they don’t easily fall into one national category.
According to Francisco, a Norwegian-Portuguese student, “when people meet me… they always try to pinpoint exactly who I am…It is uneasy for them to not know where I come from”. While it is human nature to “catalogue others” to find like-minded individuals, situations where national identity is ambiguous can create tension and slow down the relationship-building process. Nationality is seen as a “big part of [your] personality, your essence”, says Francisco, as well as symbolic of behaviours and traditions associated with national groups, all of which helps humans understand the unfamiliar others.
At first glance, growing up without a set home and clear national identity is a big challenge for young people. “[When you move around a lot], you miss out on milestones with people”, says first year student Tallulah, so you can’t relate to “childhood experience” and make bonds with people based on nationality. There is a lack of “continuity” in your national identity, symbolically removing the “right” to say you come from a particular place. Equally, nationality implies a “shared cultural experience which I don’t feel like I’ve really had”, shares Will, “[so I feel like an] impostor” if I claim a nationality. Notions like language fluency, school systems, shared memories and political insights all shape national awareness and identity. They might come naturally when you live in one place, but are hard to develop when stretched across rivers, borders, and continents.
However, is fitting in to a ‘national box’ essential to finding comfort at university and building meaningful friendships? According to Eva, a “mixed cultural identity” makes you more open-minded and brings up creative opportunities to “connect with people” by drawing from a unique catalogue of linguistic, cultural, and geographical experiences. One can also make “the fact that [they] don’t identify anywhere [their] identity,” suggests Tallulah, opening a novel perspective on what constitutes identity and ‘the self’.
Ultimately, shared and individual identity are not bound to nationality: there are many ways to voice your heart and find belonging, such as pursuing “specific interests” like playing bass guitar or joining the LSE Beekeeping Club. It feels “oddly illuminating” to find people who share your “niche” interests at LSE, which is “just as meaningful as living on the same island, in the same capital city,” according to Will. At the same time, the multi-cultural nature of London and LSE makes it “the best place to not belong to any country” because you are not tied down to any identity. In London, a student can experiment and be whoever they want – an underrated privilege of being an LSE student.
While occasional homesickness and yearning for precious moments with family are inevitable for students returning to independent livelihoods at university, it is in their power to recreate the comfort, ease, familiarity and love which home represents. “Having a consistent set of goals and values” is central to maintaining a “sense of continuity” and avoiding the loss of oneself, explains a PPE undergraduate Anastasia, emphasizing the integral role of ‘the self’ in providing the care and consolation a student might require. In the words of Jack, a third year student, “home is where I am” – it is therefore in our hearts, and we can access it at any place, time and season.
