Returning Home / by Kenneth Buff

So I haven't really talked much about this. I updated my author bio, but I never made a post talking about my move. It was a pretty big deal. My wife and I were working, making the most we've ever made at a jobs that we loved, living in a town we'd lived in for ten years. We had lots of friends, and we felt like we were an important part of the community. In retrospect it seems odd that we moved, but my wife and I were inflicted with something I like to call "the grass is always greener syndrome." We had this idea of what our lives should be like, and it was always something different than what it was, even though what we had was pretty great.

I think the reason I haven't talked about it was because it was pretty hard. Even in the beginning it was hard, but as time went on it only got tougher. Being away from everything and everyone I know. Don't get me wrong, Colorado is beautiful. It's very dry, but it's beautiful (never thought I'd say this, but I miss humidity...itchy dry skin is not for me). It's also incredibly expensive, and can be pretentious at times. But more than anything it doesn't feel like home. It's not an unwelcoming place, but at the same time it's not welcoming either. Where when I first moved to Oklahoma 10 years ago I felt very much welcomed. The southern hospitality thing, it's real, and I think I'm now old enough to admit I'm partial to it. Growing up in Kansas, I've always considered myself a northerner (hey, we fought for the Union), but I don't know if I can truly call myself a Kansan any longer. Few of my coworkers here would be able to tell you that I'm from Kansas originally, but most could tell you I'm from Oklahoma. I guess that makes me an honorary Okie, and at this point I feel I've earned it. Sure, there are things I'm not proud of about Oklahoma. Our education system (like many states who align themselves culturally with the South) needs a face lift, but I am proud to say I taught in one of the best districts in the state and am very proud of the work we do in Stillwater. We also have a dark past with race relations with Native Americans and black Americans (The Trail of Tears, The Tulsa Race Riots), much like our nation as a whole has. But home is home. It's made by the people who live in it, and the relationships formed there.

That's why my wife and I have decided that when her master's program is complete, we're returning home. We can see now what we've left behind, and where we truly want to take our future. Can't wait to be home.