Personal Narrative: Moving To First Town

Moving from the South to the Midwest was a huge change in my life. For my whole life I grew up to the southern hospitality and the tang of salt in the air since the beach was always less than 5 minutes away wherever I lived. Now I moved to a place where they flip you off to say hi, and the closest thing to an ocean is a sea of grass that seems to go on forever. Although I am now adapted to the change for the most part, it took me awhile to break in to the social norms of an average Midwest kids.

I come from the small town of Caribou, Maine. “Why so far north?” You might ask. Well, my father took a job as meteorologist for NOAA in Caribou following his retirement from the Air Force after 20 years of service. I moved to Maine in August of 2008, exactly 9 years ago; however, Maine is the 4th location I’ve lived in after Virginia (my birthplace), Alabama, and North Carolina.

It had finally arrived. Moving day. I was finally leaving my home in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania after five short years and a sort of gloom lingered in the air. Although many teenagers would be excited to reunite with their family, friends, and childhood home, I, however, was frightened of the future. I woke up that morning and just laid there and listened to the sound of the rain pittering against the roof and windows, pattering against the surrounding forest in which I shared many memories. After what felt like centuries of just listening and reflecting, I got up and looked out the window. I looked at my neighbor's house across the field of grass which separated our houses and at the kids who had become like my siblings. I looked at the ice

Have you ever moved? I have and It’s hard, packing up and moving along with leaving any friends or family behind. Moving to a place you only visit once a year is, though, also I have only seen a small part of this state, the area by my grandma’s house. The summer of 20ll was a rough time. It was the year we moved from Florida to Kansas because my mom found a better job.

Just recently, I found out I was moving to another state. Knowing I have to leave everything behind was awful. I was halfway through eighth grade, starting the second semester, and I was doing great. My grades were all A’s and I was happy there with all my friends, Amber, Marianna, and Makayla. Our house was decent, my sister and I both had our own rooms anything I would ever wish for. My dad had been promoted to another job, where he was going to get paid more than what he was currently earning. It was an amazing opportunity for my family. I was glad for my dad, but I still felt bad for myself.

From your head to your toes, you have allowed yourself to become completely and totally relaxed….

4,097 people. That was the population of Centralia Missouri in 2011. Moving had never been an issue for me, when your dad is in the military you get used to it. This time it was different than any other time. My parents were divorcing and my mom was forcing me to move to a town with only 4,097 people opposed to my home in Virginia with 225,401 people.

Since I moved to Waukesha when I was just five years old, I have learned to appreciate and get involved in several ways around this city. Recently, however, I got accepted to my dream school; UW-Madison. I was ecstatic to finally have the opportunity to leave the town I had spent almost all of my life in and start a new chapter somewhere else.

I moved to Connecticut in the September of 2008 because my Dad had a job transfer. This was around the time that I started the second grade. I was introduced to so many people and they were all so nice to me. Six years later, I made countless friends and started to feel like Connecticut was where I wanted to stay forever. But in December of 2014, my Dad got a phone call from a company in South Jersey and they wanted him to work for them. At first, he worked 3 days in Camden, and the rest of the week in Connecticut. That was difficult though because we did not get to see him as often as we wanted to. My parents then sat my brother and I down and asked us if we wanted to move to South Jersey. I did not know what to think. After six years, I loved living in Connecticut and I wanted to stay there. They told us that it would be a lot easier to move down to Jersey instead of my dad traveling every week. My brother and I both agreed that this is what we are going to have to do. I can still remember that day though. It seemed liked the world was going to a scorching end. At least my world was. I started to tell my friends that

When I was only four years old, my life changed forever. It was the year I moved to North Carolina. My dad’s friend got him a job opportunity that he simply couldn’t give up. So, he quit his job and found a nice rental house to live in. I had moved before but I don’t remember. I moved from Indiana to North Carolina with my brother my cat and my parents. When I moved to North Carolina, I was aware of what was happening, but I never realized how different everything would be. The house we moved into we only lived in for a year, but it was a pretty hectic year.

Before I moved to Canton, I lived in Wethersfield CT. One day during late summer when I was around 6 years old there was a bad thunderstorm. It ended up turning into a storm with tornadoes. My dad was in the middle of mowing the lawn and suddenly came inside, which is unusual because he likes to finish what he starts. When he came in he said that the sky didn't look right. My mom stood near the stove making chicken salad sandwiches with a worried look on her face.

Roughly four years ago I moved to Buffalo with my mom and two sisters, best move ever. Before then I had lived in Rochester, or to be more specific, Brockport. My childhood house was big and gray. It had a huge yard and very long driveway. However, my house in Brockport is not my home. I call home my green and white Tudor styled Kenmore house. It has a small green yard and a short driveway. It has been the best part of my life because of all the opportunities that were missed out on when you live so far away. Here in Buffalo I have the opportunity to go the high school where my mom, aunts, grandma, cousins, and sisters all graduated from. For now my job is going to that high school, but the second I turn sixteen, I will be working as a cashier at the dashes down the street from my home, a little family tradition. The reason I moved though, is hands down the most awful thing to happen to me or that can happen to a little kid, like I was at the time.

On October 5, 2010, my mom made the permanent decision to move to Iowa from Indiana. I was very nervous. I knew I had to switch schools, I had spent three years at that school getting to know everyone and getting used to the school, but now it was time to leave not only the school but also the state. While on the road, I couldn’t concentrate. We’ve been to Iowa numerous times so I knew the drive quite well. I ended up going to sleep by worrying myself so much.

For me, there are two distinct separations that come to mind, moving into the dorms at Alverno College and moving into my own apartment here in Milwaukee. I was 19 when I first moved into the Alverno dorms and it was the first time I had ever not lived with my parents. There was a level of fear, not only due to being away from my folk but I didn’t know anyone on campus. It was a huge step in separation, not only physically but symbolically as well. Flash forward to this past April, I had taken a semester off after gaining my associate’s from Alverno to figure out what I wanted. In that time, I had moved back in with my parents and was working full time as a nursing assistant at a nursing home. Finally, I had decided to move back to Milwaukee.

If I could live anywhere in the world and money wasn’t an issue I imagine myself to move to New York City, nowhere specifically I just know that I would live in NYC in what seems the world’s smallest apartment with massive windows that let lots of sunlight through.