Citizen
of the World
One
Moment in Time
by Elizabeth Horner
I
have always thought of life as a
series of big events strung together only tenuously by more commonplace
items.
For example, there are hard-records of the day I was born, the first
wobbly
steps I took across the living room floor, and of my acceptance into
the New
York University Global Liberal Studies Core Program--- all of which are
considered defining moments in my personal history. My mom has filled
scrapbooks with pictures of family vacations, speeches I made before a
crowd,
snapshots of my friends and me posing before school dances. What has
not been
preserved as evidence? The common, every day, in and out routine I’ve
always
taken for granted.
And
yet, since I have been back in
the United States after my first semester abroad in London, and as I
prepare to
return there this January, it occurs to me that my experiences there
cannot be
described with ceaseless talk of seeing Big Ben, all lit up and
impressive
against the London skyline. My memories of Greenwich and St. Albans
have gotten
somewhat confused--- and I can’t remember which of a score of famous
people
were buried in each location. I can’t even define my trip by the
‘Making of
Harry Potter’ tour I went on with other members of my class, though
that
occasion carries with it an almost historic meaning in my mind.
No,
when people ask, “How was
London?” and I say, “Good”, I am really remembering the walk to the
Academic
Center almost every day with the sounds of teenagers playing football
providing
cheery background noise. I am thinking of roommates--- of sharing a
bathroom---
of trips to the grocery store or down to the laundry room---of doodling
in the
corner of my notes during a lecture--- and of the fire alarms that
constantly
went off in the middle of the night because some people never learned
not to
smoke in the building. These events were repeated so much as to become
ordinary, but it does not necessarily follow that that level of
usualness made
them insignificant. In fact, it occurred to me that, that one bright
moment
when I realized I had been accepted into college was never as important
as all
the moments that followed.
Timelines
depict the weightiest
moments in our life--- but what I didn’t consider is that the lines
in-between
those milestones must be even stronger and more influential in order to
support
that weight. One line saying, “Attended NYU” is a poor summary for the
effort
expended both before and after that decision was made.
Waiting
in line at the grocery
store, I started picking through magazine articles, and I found one
‘proving’
that celebrities were just like us. For proof, there were many colorful
pictures of stars walking their dogs, collecting groceries, and hanging
out
with friends. And even though I found the idea laughable to begin with,
I
realized that the reporters had it right in a way. Everybody’s big
moments
differ from one another’s, but the items that come in-between--- the
experience
involved with getting up in the morning, getting ready, going to work,
dealing
with family and friends and hobbies--- can be considered very similar
across
the board. Our existences are made up of the same stuff that someone in
a
different profession--- in a different relationship--- in a different
country--- existence is made of. In some weird sense of the word, our
lives are
all familiar. And
while it is true that
not everything we go through may be photo-worthy, that’s part of the
point. Our
life is made up of the times that we did the living, not stopped to
collect
mementos of it.
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