Stuffing Christmas cards into envelopes last night, I came across a name I didn’t recognize.
“Who’s that?” I asked my husband, pointing.
“Oh, that’s so-and-so,” he replied.
Oh, I said, and nodded, continuing to stuff and peel, stuff and peel.
“It’s weird, we’ve haven’t been gone that long … ” Mr. C began.
“But it seems like we’ve been here forever, doesn’t it?” I concluded.
And it does.
My feelings about Chambana itself – the backward notion that somehow all those students are a bother, the idea that the town should remain mostly rural and residential because hell, who wants all those tax-paying businesses around – are still somewhat negative.
But you know what? If I didn’t care – well, then I wouldn’t care. I’d just be all, “yeah, it sucks here, I’m biding my time until we get out.”
I did feel like that, especially this summer. I wanted out so bad that I though my head was going to fall off if I didn’t see some greenery or some water.
But the prairie has it’s own strange beauty and some days, I’m struck by the notion that not so long ago, someone from the original 13 colonies took a risk and settled here in this lonesome topography. Now here we are, doing the same, if only temporarily.
The Poo loves her home. She feels safe her in her Mybana, she asks for it now when we are traveling back East. The neighborhoods that house my past now feel that way – in the past.
Over Thanksgiving I spent time with my oldest friends, women I’ve known since I was just eight years old. The laughter and conversation was easy and comfortable, like your favorite cotton pajamas. But here in Urbana, I have a new set of friends who know a different me.
A writer. A mother. A risk-taker. An independent person.
Going back home is fraught with ghosts. I learned this a long time ago, when I returned there after three years in London and four in Boston. You become a different person, with experiences that can’t be understood by anyone who didn’t share them.
Running into your old self around every corner can be very disconcerting.
I prefer the Chambana Amy. She’s still crazy, but that’s OK.
Mr. C will be done (fingers crossed) with course work this spring. The following year will be spent writing his dissertation. It seems far off, but now is the time to begin looking for jobs.
He mentioned a position at a large East Coast institution that made my heart leap. It would be ideal.
Then, a second later, I thought about selling this house, packing up and starting all over someplace new again, at the ripe old age of 38.
The idea of leaving Chambana left me breathless – not with anticipation, but with trepidation.
How the hell did that happen?
{ 25 comments… read them below or add one }
“If You’re Not from the Prairie” by David Bouchard and Henry Ripplinger (Illustrator) is a great children’s book that captures, for me, what the essence of “prairie living” is all about.
When my sister, who moved out to San Diego a while ago, reads this book she longs for the simple peace of the prairie.
And the illustrations are fantastic.
Its amazing how at first we don’t like where we are living then the place just grows on you!
Hi Amy,
My name is Amy too and I am from Champaign so my perspective is very different from yours, I started reading your blog early this year and since then there have been many times that I have empathized with you as a parent and other times where it was frankly annoying to hear you whining about my hometown.
I am glad that you have decided that it is not so bad, but I think you misunderstand many things about this place and the people here. First of all, about our wonderful university and the students that come with it. Many of us have connections with the U of I and we are very proud of it. My parents met here, left and came back because of the university. I am also a U of I alum, I left and I came back because my parents are here and I was expecting my first child. I hope my children will go to school here as well. We bleed orange and blue. I think my family connection with the U of I is pretty common for people around here. This town is like a vortex because people keep coming back.
We do enjoy those times of year when campus is empty. It is sort of a peaceful quiet that means you can find a place to park if you want to go to a campus restaurant or business. We also get excited when the students come back. My mom and dad have actually occasionally walked by their old dorms watching students move in and they get nostalgic.
As far as development, I think you are confusing Champaign with Urbana. Look around! There is lots of develpment, both on the edges of town and downtown. The One Main building is brand new, and there is a building of similar size going up across the street. There is also a large building going up on Green St., lots of houses going up, the new Windsor and Duncan Crossing sprawling shopping center with lots of businesses. Check out the new Jupiters out there, it is really nice. Check out downtown Champaign, it is not New York, but there are some really great restaurants and bars as well as funky little shops.
If you want to see green in the spring, go to Busey Woods or Allerton Park. We are far from the ocean but there is Clinton Lake and Lake of the Woods, and Chicago and Lake Michigan are not that far.
Peace.
Love for a new home kinda creeps up on you, doesn’t it? I saw accept it. Own it. Love it.
But an East Coast job, eh? Anywhere near me?
It’s funny but places have less to do with their physical location and more to do with where our heads are at while we’re there. You have a good life, nice husband, great kid, cool job. Chambana has been good to you in a twisted co-dependent sort of way. I mean come on a fish out of water is never so funny as when it’s in the middle of a corn field.
Greetings from a fellow nomadic Amy. I very much understand your emotions about the moves. When I learned we were moving to Western New York when I was 7+mos pregnant, I was NOT excited. We’ve been here 5 years and are leaving this summer (dh’s training over). But the place has grown on me, and I’ve made some lovely friends. And learned I can live away from family. Now we face a move to the west coast for just one year, and then who knows where. I’ll be 37 by the time we maybe reach our “forever” home. Its hard, hard, hard. All I can say is I understand.
Living in central Illinois for nearly 14 years left me with many of the same feelings you’ve expressed here over the years. Even after all that time, however, I never accepted it as “home”. The sheer terror of selling the house there and orchestrating the move out east (doing it all by myself) was terrifying, but in the end, it all got done and being here is still the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.
What giant east coast school? It would be cool if you were at one of the couple around me.
My friend Jeanne has done the student nomad thing with her spouse (Ithaca, Iowa City, C-U, now Houston, with a stint in Argentina before all of that); she reluctantly left C-U in May 2006 and misses it something fierce. She’s learned to make a place for herself in Houston, where she lives now, but I think her heart is in C-U. I know I miss her terribly.
I have mixed feelings about the University. I do wish it was more welcoming to the entire community, because, well, it kind of isn’t… until it’s time to fill up those stadiums, anyway. I grew up in a place (MN) where the University did major outreach into the surrounding community – it had to, because the MPLS-St. Paul metro area had plenty of other things for people to do, AND there were several smaller schools in the area that had their own vibrant communities and happenings. The U of I is the only game in town, and they know it. However, I also think it’s really cool that my kids are growing up with a major university quite literally in their backyard. There’s a lot of opportunity here in less-frenetic surroundings.
You’ll find yr tribe wherever you go – smart, interesting women tend to find their own in those situations. Be open to the possibilities!
In the meantime, I imagine we’ll meet before yr Mister finishes his dissertation…
Noooooo!!! You are almost free!!! Take me with you! Who will I snark with! Damn!
Hope you are feeling better (bronchitis wise)
As someone who does NOT bleed orange and blue, but still loves central IL, I can’t believe you are possibly leaving so soon. Waaaaaaa! Central Il and Mrs. Chicken have a way of growing on you.
I’m a midwestern ex-pat in Seattle. I desperately miss Michigan, but at the same time, can’t ever picture moving from here.
So, I kind of get it.
I think Katherine nailed it when she said that it’s less about the location and more about who you ARE when you live there. Even though you haven’t loved every minute of your time there, you’ve become the person you are because of being there. Does that make sense?
I see that in my own life – I hated-with-a-capital-H living in South Florida, but by our second year there I found that going “home” to rural Georgia irritated me. The pace was wrong, the people were different. I’d changed while I lived there! And even though I would NOT want to live in SoFla again, I can appreciate the ways it stretched me to be in such a new place, far from the familiar supports of family and friends.
But yeah, I totally get the “How did THAT happen?” reaction. Sorta gives you whiplash, doesn’t it?
Yeah, I know. With an impending move, I feel the same trepidation. Odd since I’ve spent the past two years despising Lower Alabama. But it’s been my home, the place I brought home my children.
Unexplainable, but undeniable. The prairie just gets into your bones.
One of my favorite parts of going home (from PA to ND) is the sense of peace that comes over me when the landscape flattens out, the trees disappear, and I can really breathe again.
Sigh.
I grew up in this area and longed for the time when I could get the fuck away (both my parents were w/the U and I had no intention of going there for school). So I went an hour south. To Charleston. If you think C-U is small, try living there for 4 years.
And then I moved home and ended up teaching at my old high school. I loved every minute of it. I met my hubby while he was in art school here. He’s from the Chicago area and doesn’t want to live anywhere else. I’m comfortably settled here (my family is still around) but the possibility is always lurking that Volition could close at some point and then we’d most likely have to move since it’s 1 of 2 game developers in town. That thought doesn’t thrill me but since it could one day happen I enjoy this town. I would miss it terribly if we were to go.
Yeah, C-U lacks a lot but going out into the countryside always makes me feel connected. You can pretty much see forever out there and the air is fresh (unless you’re by the south farms).
I’m not going to think about you moving until it happens.
It’s grown on you. You’ve grown and become somebody new.
I’m glad to *know* this Amy – here or wherever she lands…
Last year I accidentally sent a card to someone who had died. I know them well enough to send a card…but not well enough to remember they died!!
It’s amazing how seeing home from Poo’s perspective casts a more favorable glow, isn’t it?
I like Chambana Amy, too. I do.
This post may surprise you, but it doesn’t surprise me in the least. Why? Because you have grown so much as a person and as a family here.
One of the things I HATE about Chambana is people like you — who come here, stay long enough to worm their way into my heart and then leave. BOO HOO!
I like the Amy I know here. I’m guessing that’s more Chambana Amy. But I can understand the feelings. They sneak up on you, don’t they? Plus, you’ll have memories of good times there as well. They add up.
Oh, yeah, and moving just sucks ass too.
Funny how that works, isn’t it?
I’m glad you’re starting to come to peace with the place – I really do like Chambana Amy – but I’m sure I’d like Anywhere Else Amy too.
your words ring true. i moved back home after ten years in denver. i worry every day that i messed up and i want to go back to that place that doesn’t haunt me!
“You become a different person, with experiences that can’t be understood by anyone who didn’t share them”
This is what everyone keeps telling us will happen when we return home in the spring. I read this post with such interest, because it echoes the very feelings I expect to have returning home from London.
Amy, thanks for this beautiful post. It makes me feel better to be living in London and feeling a bit lost sometimes. And its inspiring to see how you manage to do it, AND be supermom!