Have you ever been asked, “Where do you come from?” It seems like a straightforward question, but in today’s world, the answer can be quite complex. People often assume I come from India because my ancestry is entirely Indian. However, I’ve never lived there and can’t speak any of its languages, so I don’t feel I can truly call myself Indian.
If “where do you come from” refers to where I was born, raised, and educated, then I’m from England. But I left England after finishing my undergraduate studies. Growing up, I was the only student in my class who didn’t look like the typical English heroes in our textbooks.
If the question means where I pay taxes and receive medical care, then I’m from the United States, where I’ve lived for 48 years since childhood. Yet, I’ve always felt like an outsider, carrying a permanent resident card that reminds me of my foreign status.
If “home” is where I feel most connected and spend most of my time, then I’m Japanese, having lived in Japan for 25 years. However, I’ve been there on a tourist visa, and I doubt many Japanese people would consider me one of them.
My story is quite traditional compared to many young people today, especially in places like Hong Kong, Sydney, or Vancouver. They often have multiple homes: one linked to their parents, another with their partners, and others connected to where they currently live. Their lives are like a mosaic, piecing together different places into a dynamic concept of home.
For many, home is less about a physical place and more about a sense of belonging. When asked where my home is, I think of my loved ones, close friends, or the music that accompanies me. This realization hit me hard when a wildfire destroyed my parents’ house in California. With everything gone, I understood that home was something I carried within me.
This understanding is liberating. Unlike my grandparents, who had their sense of home assigned at birth, we can now choose our communities and identities. This shift is evident in leaders like the president of a powerful nation, who has a diverse background, being half Kenyan and partly raised in Indonesia.
Today, around 220 million people live in countries not their own. This number is staggering, larger than the combined populations of Canada and Australia twice over. As this global community grows, it challenges traditional nation-state categories, making us the fifth largest “nation” on Earth. In Toronto, for example, the average resident is now someone born in another country.
Being surrounded by the foreign is invigorating; it forces you to see the world with fresh eyes. Travel, much like being in love, heightens your senses and reveals hidden patterns. As Marcel Proust said, the real voyage of discovery is not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes. With this perspective, even familiar places can appear new.
While many living abroad are refugees longing to return home, for the fortunate, this era of movement offers exciting possibilities. Traveling, I often meet people with diverse backgrounds who find common ground, forming new relationships and families that blend cultures.
Where you come from is becoming less important than where you’re going. More of us are rooted in the present and future rather than the past. Home is not just where you’re born; it’s where you become yourself. However, constant movement can make it difficult to find stability.
Years ago, I realized I had flown a million miles with United Airlines alone. I began to see that movement is only meaningful if you can find stillness within it. After my house burned down, a friend suggested I visit a Catholic hermitage. Initially skeptical, I found peace there, surrounded by nature. It felt like coming home, even though I’m not religious. I spent time reflecting and being present, which helped me reconnect with myself.
I realized I had been yearning for stillness, which was drowned out by my busy life. As Seneca said, “A man is not poor who has little, but who hankers after more.” While I’m not suggesting everyone visit a monastery, stepping out of your routine can help you discover what truly matters and find a sense of home.
Many people now take time to sit quietly, run, or disconnect from devices to have meaningful conversations. Movement is a privilege that lets us experience what our grandparents could only dream of, but it only holds meaning if you have a home to return to. Ultimately, home is not just where you sleep; it’s where you stand.
Thank you.
Write a reflective essay exploring your personal definition of “home.” Consider the various aspects discussed in the article, such as physical location, emotional connections, and cultural identity. Share your experiences and how they shape your understanding of home.
Participate in a group discussion about the concept of global identity. Discuss how the increasing movement of people across borders influences individual and collective identities. Reflect on how this relates to your own experiences or those of people you know.
Create an interactive map that traces your personal journey or the journey of someone you know. Highlight key locations that have influenced your sense of home. Share the map with classmates and discuss the diverse paths that lead to a sense of belonging.
Develop a creative project, such as a painting, collage, or digital artwork, that represents your interpretation of “home.” Use elements from the article to inspire your work. Present your project to the class and explain the symbolism behind your choices.
Analyze a case study of individuals or communities who embody the modern nomadic lifestyle. Examine how they navigate the complexities of identity and belonging. Present your findings in a report, highlighting the challenges and opportunities they face.
Sure! Here’s a sanitized version of the transcript:
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[Music] Where do you come from? It’s such a simple question, but these days, simple questions bring ever more complicated answers. People often ask me where I come from, expecting me to say India, and they’re right in that 100% of my blood and ancestry comes from India. However, I’ve never lived there, and I can’t speak any of its many dialects, so I don’t think I’ve really earned the right to call myself Indian.
If “where do you come from” means where I was born, raised, and educated, then I’m entirely from England. But I left England right after completing my undergraduate education. Growing up, I was the only kid in my classes who didn’t resemble the classic English heroes depicted in our textbooks.
If “where do you come from” means where I pay my taxes, see my doctor, and dentist, then I’m very much from the United States, where I’ve lived for 48 years since I was a small child. However, for many of those years, I’ve carried around a card identifying me as a permanent resident, which makes me feel more like an outsider the longer I live there.
If “where do you come from” means which place resonates with me the most and where I try to spend most of my time, then I’m Japanese, as I’ve lived in Japan for the last 25 years. Yet, I’ve been there on a tourist visa, and I doubt many Japanese would consider me one of them.
I share this to highlight how traditional and straightforward my background is. When I visit places like Hong Kong, Sydney, or Vancouver, most of the young people I meet are much more international and multicultural than I am. They have one home associated with their parents, another with their partners, a third connected to where they happen to be, and many more besides. Their lives are spent piecing together different places into a mosaic of home, which is a work in progress.
For many of us, home has less to do with a physical location and more with a sense of belonging. If someone asks me where my home is, I think of my loved ones, my closest friends, or the songs that accompany me wherever I go. I realized this deeply some years ago when I was at my parents’ house in California and saw that we were surrounded by flames from a wildfire. Three hours later, that fire had reduced my home and everything in it to ashes. The next morning, I found myself on a friend’s floor with only a toothbrush I had just bought. At that moment, I couldn’t point to any physical structure as my home; it was whatever I carried inside me.
In many ways, this realization is liberating. My grandparents had their sense of home and community assigned to them at birth, with little chance to step outside of that. Nowadays, many of us can choose our sense of home, create our communities, and shape our identities, moving beyond the rigid divisions of the past. It’s no coincidence that the president of a powerful nation is half Kenyan and partly raised in Indonesia, with a diverse family background.
Currently, there are about 220 million people living in countries not their own, an almost unimaginable number. This means that if you combined the populations of Canada and Australia twice, you would still have fewer people than this global community. The number of people living outside traditional nation-state categories is increasing rapidly, and soon there will be more of us than there are Americans. We represent the fifth largest nation on Earth, and in Canada’s largest city, Toronto, the average resident is now someone born in a different country.
The beauty of being surrounded by the foreign is that it awakens you; you can’t take anything for granted. Travel, for me, is akin to being in love; it heightens your senses and makes you aware of the world’s hidden patterns. The real voyage of discovery, as Marcel Proust famously said, consists not in seeing new sights but in looking with new eyes. Once you have new eyes, even familiar places can seem different.
Many people living in foreign countries are refugees who long to return home, but for the fortunate among us, this age of movement brings exhilarating possibilities. When I travel, I often meet individuals with diverse backgrounds who find common ground and form connections, leading to new relationships and families that embody a blend of cultures.
Where you come from is becoming less important than where you’re going. More of us are rooted in the present and future as much as in the past. Home is not just the place where you are born; it’s where you become yourself. However, there is a challenge with constant movement: it can be hard to find your bearings.
Some years ago, I realized I had accumulated a million miles on United Airlines alone. I began to think that movement is only as meaningful as the stillness you can bring to it. Eight months after my house burned down, a friend suggested a place for me to visit—a Catholic hermitage. Initially, I was skeptical, having spent years in Anglican school, but my friend assured me that it was a peaceful place.
I drove north along the coast to this hermitage, where I found a serene environment surrounded by nature. I began to write, and time seemed to stretch infinitely. It felt like coming home, even though I’m not a religious person. I spent my time walking, reflecting, and simply being present, which allowed me to reconnect with myself.
I realized that I had been yearning for stillness, but I couldn’t hear it amidst my busy life. I remembered a phrase from Seneca: “A man is not poor who has little, but who hankers after more.” I’m not suggesting anyone should go to a monastery, but I believe that stepping out of your life allows you to see what you truly care about and find a sense of home.
Many people now consciously take time to sit quietly each day, run in the evenings, or leave their devices behind to have meaningful conversations. Movement is a privilege that allows us to experience what our grandparents could only dream of, but it only holds meaning if you have a home to return to. Ultimately, home is not just where you sleep; it’s where you stand.
Thank you.
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This version maintains the essence of the original transcript while removing any potentially sensitive or unnecessary content.
Home – A place or environment where one feels a sense of belonging and security, often associated with one’s origins or cultural roots. – In social studies, the concept of home extends beyond physical structures to include emotional and cultural connections that define an individual’s sense of place.
Belonging – The feeling of being accepted and included within a group or community, often contributing to one’s identity and social cohesion. – Philosophers argue that the need for belonging is a fundamental human motivation that influences social behavior and community dynamics.
Identity – The qualities, beliefs, and expressions that make a person or group distinct, often shaped by cultural, social, and historical contexts. – In philosophy, identity is a central theme, exploring how individuals perceive themselves and are perceived by others within society.
Community – A group of people living in the same place or having a particular characteristic in common, often sharing values, norms, and cultural practices. – Social studies examine how communities form, evolve, and impact the social fabric through shared experiences and collective action.
Movement – A collective effort by a group of people to promote or resist change in society, often driven by shared goals and ideologies. – The civil rights movement is a pivotal example in social studies, illustrating how collective action can lead to significant social and political change.
Culture – The set of shared attitudes, values, goals, and practices that characterizes an institution, organization, or group. – Anthropologists study culture to understand how it shapes human behavior and societal development across different regions and time periods.
Foreign – Relating to or originating from a country or culture other than one’s own, often highlighting differences in customs and practices. – In international relations, foreign policy is a crucial area of study, focusing on how countries interact and manage their external affairs.
Stability – The state of being steady and unchanging, often considered essential for societal development and economic growth. – Political stability is a key factor in social studies, as it influences a nation’s ability to implement policies and maintain order.
Journey – A process of travel or exploration, often symbolizing personal growth, discovery, or the pursuit of knowledge. – Philosophical discussions often use the metaphor of a journey to describe the quest for understanding and the search for meaning in life.
Freedom – The power or right to act, speak, or think without hindrance or restraint, often considered a fundamental human right. – In political philosophy, freedom is a central concept, debated in terms of its implications for individual autonomy and societal governance.
