When Does Home Cease Being Home?

Photo by Steven Su on Unsplash 

 

I grew up in a small East Texas town. I’m talking really, really small. No exaggerations. As in there were only 35 people in my graduating class. We had one stop light, no McDonald’s, no Dairy Queen and no Taco Bell small.  

 

My town was home to me for the first 18 years of my life. Back in the day, when I stayed in touch with more of my friends from high school, they would say, “When are you coming home?” Still to this day, my Big Mama (or grandmother) will ask, “When are you coming home?”  

 

Well, can I really call it home now? I haven’t lived there in nearly 30 years. Even my parents who grew up in my town and currently run a business in a nearby town, no longer call it home. Why? Because they built a life in a new place. Granted, they reside in my town where they grew up about 90% of the time now, the place where they built their life is what they call "home."   

 

I make this connection because recently, I came across a really interesting concept called diaspora. I was working on class readings for my world literature class where we consider how things like migration, borders and cultural identity are discussed in literature. To be honest, I had never heard the term diaspora before and had to look it up. 

While it was a new vocabulary word for me, supposedly it is a common term that has exploded in usage over the last 20 years in lots of different subject areas. Rogers Brubaker in the essay “The ‘Diaspora’ Diaspora” proposes that everyone from people interested in subjects like Black studies and anthropology to music and dance are joining in the discussion of the term and its implications for the world.  

 

Nailing down its meaning in my mind has been a bit tricky, but I wanted to share my understanding with you. I think it is key as we form our views on immigration. In my opinion, it is relevant for each of us to understand diaspora if we are going to talk about immigration. After studying diaspora, I sympathize even more with groups of people dispersed from their homes for whatever reason. 

Think of this, have you ever had to decide to leave what you knew as home? Or worse, be forced to leave? I think having at least a basic understanding of diaspora can help us to more compassionate on the subject of immigration.  

 

Maybe you’ve never heard the term diaspora either so let me take a minute to explain. First, know that there are varying schools of thought. 

 

Let’s start with the easy part. Pronounced /dīˈaspərə/, the word in its simplest form indicates the dispersion of any people from their original homeland. Evidently, however, it hasn’t always carried this connotation. In fact, initially diaspora was specifically associated with the Jewish dispersion from Israel. As a side note, some dictionary definitions even still list this description as a primary definition.  

 

There are at least two common components of diaspora: the dispersion or distribution of a group of people over a wide area and an orientation towards home (the land) from which dispersed from.  

 

Avtar Brah in the book “Cartographies of Diaspora: Contesting Identities” would argue that a diasporic journey must also be historic  – occurring in the past if it is to be a “useful term”. The reasons for dispersion arise from a variety of reasons including political, economic and slavery among other causes. 

 

Part of the idea of diaspora is that the people pulled away from their home retain an orientation towards that home. An allegiance or connection to home. But what about subsequent generations? Do they remain connected to the “homeland” although they may not have been born there? One might argue that as debatable based on everything I have read. 

 

This idea of maintaining a connection to the “homeland” is where the discussion gets a bit tricky. Do migrants stay connected to their “homeland” by refusing to assimilate in the new area of settlement? 

 

As I thought of the connection to a “homeland” and maintaining a distinct identity, my hometown came to mind. It’s not the same, I know. Those who live there are not all of the same race or cultural identity. The reasons for leaving vary. There has not been a forced dispersion of people from the town. However, there can be a distinct identification with the town as home and a distinct identity of residents and former residents. My town was a community of people. Everyone knew everyone else. But, at some point, it ceased being home for me on the one hand, yet on the other, it will always be home. So, I ask, “When does home cease being home?” 

  

An additional element that seems to be common to discussions of diaspora yet remains fluid among scholars is the idea of remaining true to a distinct identity or refusal to assimilate in the new land while holding on to a distinct identity. Where is identity centered? Stuart Hall in the essay “Cultural Identity and Diaspora” raises the question of whether cultural identity is about “becoming” or “being.” Where did a people come from and what have they become? Hall would argue that identity is in a continuous state of evolution influenced by history, culture and power. I ask, “When, if ever, do we lose our identity?”  

 

I would hold that while where we come from does influence our identity it does not dictate who we become. As Susan Stanford Friedman argues in the article “Migrations, Diasporas, and Borders”, yes the memory of where I come from remains. So too for those dispersed from their homes. However, new experiences and ways of living shape who we become. I also hold that my identity is not centered in what was once home. 

When does home cease being home? Well, just because I come from a certain town, city or country, does not mean that I will always claim where I come from as home. It also does not mean that I will always relate to those who still live in that place. This is especially true the longer you are away from a place and time passes. At some point, where we are becomes our new home.

If I think of this in relation to immigration, to me that means I should have an open view and acceptance of people dispersed from their homes. It also means that I need to recognize that the decision to leave may not have been easy. Finally, I need to understand that people have a right to seek a safe place and space they can call home. Most importantly for me, it means I should respect that right.