Flying "Home"

I returned from Washington/Atlanta yesterday, and I will reflect on some of my individual experiences later, including my visit to the CIA headquarters. But an important matter hit me miles above the Pacific Ocean that needs to be addressed now.

I fly to the mainland at least once or twice every year and yesterday was the first time in my life where I have flown back and realized there is very little left here in Hawaii for me. Instead of flying home and looking forward to my room, my favorite chair in the living room, and the bright beaches and lush rainforests, I felt as if the flight and my arrival in Honolulu was merely temporary.

In little more than a month or two, I will already be planning my permanent departure from the place that, for better and worse, I lived the first eighteen years of my life.

Leaving will be a bittersweet experience. Honestly, I have always believed that lending the word "paradise" to describe Hawaii is inacurrate. I value my experiences growing up here, attending Punahou, participating in Little League baseball, tossing a football around on the beach. Yet, I never have felt completely welcome or accepted in Hawaii. Perhaps this is a result of my own insecurity. Being known as the redhead, the pale boy, the haole, I always felt aleinated, an outcast trapped among rows of surfboards, rice bowl hair cuts, bright floral printed boardshorts, and the sound of ukuleles.

That flower lei my grandparents put on me after graduating Queen Emma Pre School must have suffocated something in me.

Despite my issues with Hawaii, I will miss some things, particularly my family: the aroma of my mother's lasagna and how she shreiks if you don't come to dinner on time, the way my dad curls up in his favorite chair to watch Dallas Cowboys games, my sisters loud voice singing a long to John Mayer, and the sparkling smile of my little brother's face whenever he finds out the New York Yankees win.

Yet, when one turns 18, they can't live like they are eight. It is time to leave Hawaii, the swamps and sunshine of Kailua, the familiar blocks of Wanaao Road and turn it in for something dramatically different. Even my reluctant parents know that. I will be living a lot closer to the real world in a few months.

The trip to DC/ATL solidified my belief that leaving is not merely a change that is necessary, but rather an oppurtunity to improve and grow. Certainly, I want to go to school in Washington DC. Spending a week there alone, I already feel like I have a head start in adjusting. Hopefully, I will be afforded the oppurtunity to spend more time there very soon.

The world awaits and it is a hell of a lot bigger, more diverse, more sophisticated than a rock in the Pacific Ocean. Sorry if that disappoints you.