Coming Home
Remembering what’s amazing about the Tar Heel State.
I never thought much about being a North Carolinian until I left. For the nearly seven years I lived in Brooklyn, everyone who met me learned I was from the Tar Heel State within about 20 seconds, half that on a bad day. I am definitely one of those transplants who talked about getting out of New York after my first year. I cried when I had to get a New York driver’s license. That was 2006. It took me until 2012 to make it back, but I always knew I would.
Stepping off the plane every time I went home was literally a breath of fresh air. But more than that, it brought a feeling of being comfortable in my own skin. All the years I lived in New York I felt slightly out of place, like trying to play a game where you’re not sure of the rules. But once my feet hit red clay dirt, I felt at peace with myself.
The list of things I missed about North Carolina consisted not only of biscuits and sweet tea, but also water skiing and floating in an inner tube with a cold beer on a scorching August afternoon. Storms in the city never quite matched watching the thunderheads roll out to sea from the deck at Ocean Isle Beach.
I missed picking green beans and driving through all the fields of tobacco in Person County, eating tomatoes off the vine and making ice cream in our family’s ancient churning machine.
But most of all, I missed the people. I couldn’t have a conversation with a store clerk without looking crazy or being pushed along. Strangers don’t talk to each other; they attempt to tune each other out. It’s lonely in Brooklyn in a way you’ll never be in North Carolina.
As a kid I dreaded going to family reunions. The small talk about college, where I was living or why I wasn’t married yet made me crazy. But after leaving, I realized what an incredible extended family I took for granted.
Reunions meant tables piled with dessert while men either tended the whole pig roasting in the smoker or stirred a black caldron of Brunswick stew with a paddle. For hours, they’d stand around talking about how high the corn was in the fields surrounding the two-story clapboard house were my great-grandfather and his 11 siblings grew up.
There were hayrides and kids playing hide-and-seek under the giant oak trees. If the fields were recently plowed, you could usually find arrowheads or other treasures. We picked cattails from the pond and as the sun set someone always pulled out a guitar and took requests.
I thought all families were like this – loving, supportive and kind. The small talk came from a genuine place of caring and wanting to know what was going on in your life. No family is perfect, but my extended one is always there and quick to bake a casserole when something happens.
And I’d be remiss if I didn’t talk about the amazing friends I’ve made in North Carolina. There is never a shortage of people volunteering to help you move or paint. I’m surrounded by talented, smart, funny friends who dedicate their lives to making North Carolina a better place. The people I know start charities, create a community with their bike shop, promote what’s best about our state, make beautiful music and art, and work to protect our environment. Moral Mondays remain an inspiration as people peacefully stand up for the progress and acceptance that created North Carolina’s reputation. Everyday I learn something new from my wise and talented group.
North Carolina has given me so much more than just a place to grow up. It’s who I am, an integral part of my identity. I’m inspired daily riding my bike around Raleigh or having coffee with a friend. Those who live here cherish, protect and promote all that’s good about our lives. While I agree North Carolina is beautiful, it’s more than that. People are most important and North Carolina has the best.
Below you will find our stories about North Carolina and why we love it so much. These stories sparked the comments in this article:
Why my permanent address will always be North Carolina by Anna Adlard
Love letter to North Carolina by Alisa Ryan Herr
North Carolina, I wish I knew how to quit you by Ileana Rodriguez
I like calling North Carolina home… by Geoff Gann
Home at Last by Angela Salamanca
Please don’t give up on North Carolina by Virginia Ingram
What’s your story? Find out how you can join our conversation.
