Dublin, Ohio, U.S.A. – Domesticated, capriciously weathered, and full of corn fields, Dublin, Ohio is my home.
Growing up, I found little to do besides calling my friends over, but even then, where would we hang out? What would we do? It seemed this piece of the world was too tame for a growing child, but I lived here, and here was my home.
I would sit idly in my backyard watching the trees change color and the golfers with their golf carts, not because I wished to, but because there wasn’t much else to do in my free time.
I don’t mean to discount domestication. There certainly are many, many positives to it. Domestication is often associated with a lack of hardship, and It’s true. I hardly knew hardship existed when I was younger and more naïve – like all children, maybe even more so.
Yet, here I was raised. Normally, I get up at 6:30 in the morning, and I get to school before the tardy bell at 7:40. Our teachers are kind, wonderful and friendly. Some stand outside their doors and wave, welcoming students. Others ask, “How are you?” and really mean it—the best type of people.
I’ve always found English classes to be beautiful, especially high school English classes. They color the world with magic as they dip their fingertips into the wonderful paint of philosophy.
My ninth-grade American literature teacher was the first to have me shake hands with philosophy and, by extension, shred some of the naivety of domestication that persistently fogged my view.
Of course, I knew people were hurting across the world. Of course, I knew ethics were important, but I’m doubtful I understood it. My heart didn’t yearn as it should have to help and to do good.
We spent a little time on ethics in that class and I learned a lot from it. The fact that my teacher was so kind as to discuss philosophy during my study halls – and her perpetually kind manner, in all aspects of her work – made me wish to do more good.
The world can be terrible, especially to those who don’t live as privileged a life as me. Here in domesticated Dublin, Ohio, I learned to yearn to do good.
After reading more philosophy, talking to more people about their lives, and learning more about the world, I found beauty and excitement here.
Every Sunday I make scrambled eggs and a pancake, sit in my backyard and listen to songs chasing at the beauty of the morning – still domesticated. Yet, I grew up here, learned of the struggles of others here and learned more about myself.
I’m home here. I take silly selfies with my sister, moonwalk around my kitchen for no reason, and drink lots of coffee.
From time to time, I still sit idly as the leaves fall from the trees and the seasons change. The trees are beautiful and breathtaking, the wind crisp and cutting.
Dublin is a lovely piece of the world – it’s home.
Danish Bajwa is a Junior Reporter with Youth Journalism International.