On the Concept of Home: Part II - What is Home?
Before we can talk about why we must live in our homes, we must know what kind of "home" we are talking about. Hence it is only fitting to post "what is home?" as the first of our pre-questions. This question may seem simple at first - we all know what a "home" is. On the other hand, as I have suggested in the introduction, "home" is actually quite an vague and abstract concept, requiring some careful thought in order to come to the fullest understanding possible. And certainly we should not aim at the a complete understanding, if such completeness even exists. It would be as impossible as trying to capture the definition of "love" or "knowledge" in its entirity.
The method to find out the manifolds of the concept of "home" is to examine the everyday usage of that word. I choose this method rather than just go straight into a dictionary definition because the nature of language is in its very usage. Language, like everything else in the world, is fluid; words come to mean something in a certain context, and acquiring other meanings in other contexts. The only way to understand "home" to the fullest possible extent is to examine it in different contexts. Here are some possible sentences using the word "home":
1. "This body is not my home."
2. "Look at those homeless people sleep in the streets."
3. "Finally, after 13 hours of flight, we are back home."
4. "I'm going back home for Christmas to see my relatives, then I'll come back for school."
5. "The way these people act is so much different than those back home."
6. "Make yourself at home!"
Of course, the number of possible utterances are infinite. But for our purpose the six listed above will do.
The first sentence ("This body is not my home.") is not as common as the other ones, partly because it is something most of us take for granted. This sentence, one can imagine, might be uttered by someone who is trans-sexual, someone whose mentality is sexually different from his/her biological sex. The mind and the body functions differently and not in sync. In one episode of Oprah, Oprah interviews a trans-sexual, who tells Oprah that the experience of being trapped inside the body of another sex is like Oprah as a woman having a penis instead of a vagina. Given such an experience, it is very difficult to feel at home because one's very physical being is at odds with one's mentality. One is a stranger to oneself everywhere one goes.
The first sentence also refers to a more general problem of gender. Society comes with gender scripts for each sex: males should be masculine, females should be feminine. When our bodies become in conflict with the gender scripts, again we do not feel at home. Now instead of being a stranger to oneself, one is a stranger amongst everyone else. Your body is given a gender script, but your mind wants to do the opposite. Again there is a kind of mental-physical disagreement, and in this sense, you do not feel at home - you no longer belong to your body; your body no longer belongs to you.
The second sentence ("Look at those homeless people sleep in the streets.") is a common observation, and it is indicative of what we generally associate the concept of "home" with: a dwelling place. The term "dwelling" is very powerful because it does not just mean a place for you to sleep. "Dwelling" means protection, comfort, belonging and privacy at the same time. When we are done with work or school, we come back home, where we can be protected from the winds and the rowdy kids, comforted by familiar surroundings and unbounded from the gazes of others. The four walls of the house is the symbol of that dwelling: behind the walls you are free to do as you like, and you are comfortably free. This is what we mean by "homeless": not that there is no place to sleep, but a "home" is more than a place for sleeping.
The third sentence ("Finally, after 13 hours of flight, we are back home.") refers yet another concept of home. This "home" is also a boundary, but a political boundary. Nationality is also a kind of home: we are more familiar with the traditions, laws and culture of our nation. The nation is a bigger family, living in a bigger dwelling. The interesting thing about this is that national boundaries are entirely arbitrary and out of our own control: one day Quebec is part of Canada; the next day, not. And it is very different from your own house, where you are at will to make the changes you want to make - move a bookcase here, a garbage can there. In a nation (or even at a larger community), we cannot just add a library here and a dump there. The really key difference between "home" as dwelling and "home" as nation (or community) is the mode of participation. "Home" as nation requires involvement to a common cause. "Home" is actually a network of people within a given political boundary, and the political boundary is the symbol of that network.
The four sentence ("I'm going back home for Christmas to see my relatives, then I'll come back for school.") presents the idea of "home" in yet another way. "Home" is no longer a physical space, but a desinated area where something else (namely, family) is. It is interesting to see that the idea of "home" can be applied to something that is not stable, in the sense of a certain space. Family members can live anywhere, yet some kind of home-ness remains in that fluidity. But at the very root the essential meaning of "home" does not change: family is where one belongs; it is where one is protected, where one feels comfortable, and where one does not have to be self-conscious all the time.
The fifth sentence ("The way these people act is so much different than those back home.") is even more abstract than the fourth case. The sentence implies that a certain social culture makes one feel at home. It is not a physical space, nor is it even a desinated area of any sort. "Home" in this sense is simply familiarity (and where, we get back to the root word "family"): one does a certain thing and is not considered as a stranger by the gazes of the surrounding people. Belonging to the same culture gives an imaginary protection, comfort and satisfaction. The physical boundaries of a dwelling place is completely erased.
This erasure of physical boundaries when we talk about home leads us to the last sentence. The last sentence ("Make yourself at home!") is perhaps the most profound of all expressions. It is commonly used but uncommonly discussed. This expression is profound because the only possible way to make onself at home is only if "home" is completely imaginary. One builds an idea of home inside one's mind, and apply it on different scales in different times and location. "Make yourself at home" is the extreme case; at the same time it is the most common case: it is instinctively what we do when come to a new environment, a "non-home" environment. We try to make it home in any possible way, whether it is a physical, mental, social or cultural level. Remember your first day in elementary school, or highschool; what you do when you go to your friend's home; what you do when you first went on a social function. I would imagine you try your very best to establish a space of your own, which, at the same time, blends right into the larger social space.
And I think ultimately, considering all of these usages of "home", "home" is an imaginary space which allows us to feel belonged. Who are we kidding when we think that our bodies, our houses, our countries and our families actually give us 100% protection, comfort and privacy? Every one of these entities are so fragile, that it is all too easy for them to fall apart - accidents, evil schemes, social disagreements, political turmoil or just plain personality-disorder will tear these imaginary spaces apart. But we constantly "make ourselves at home" because homes offers a refuge for us. We feel that there is something we can hold on to. I can "go home" after a long day at work. You can "go home" after you've travelled in a strange place. We can "go home" after for a while stepping outside of our normal course of action. So what is "home"? Plainly, it is an imaginary construct which allows us to feel belonged. The "other" is outside.
The method to find out the manifolds of the concept of "home" is to examine the everyday usage of that word. I choose this method rather than just go straight into a dictionary definition because the nature of language is in its very usage. Language, like everything else in the world, is fluid; words come to mean something in a certain context, and acquiring other meanings in other contexts. The only way to understand "home" to the fullest possible extent is to examine it in different contexts. Here are some possible sentences using the word "home":
1. "This body is not my home."
2. "Look at those homeless people sleep in the streets."
3. "Finally, after 13 hours of flight, we are back home."
4. "I'm going back home for Christmas to see my relatives, then I'll come back for school."
5. "The way these people act is so much different than those back home."
6. "Make yourself at home!"
Of course, the number of possible utterances are infinite. But for our purpose the six listed above will do.
The first sentence ("This body is not my home.") is not as common as the other ones, partly because it is something most of us take for granted. This sentence, one can imagine, might be uttered by someone who is trans-sexual, someone whose mentality is sexually different from his/her biological sex. The mind and the body functions differently and not in sync. In one episode of Oprah, Oprah interviews a trans-sexual, who tells Oprah that the experience of being trapped inside the body of another sex is like Oprah as a woman having a penis instead of a vagina. Given such an experience, it is very difficult to feel at home because one's very physical being is at odds with one's mentality. One is a stranger to oneself everywhere one goes.
The first sentence also refers to a more general problem of gender. Society comes with gender scripts for each sex: males should be masculine, females should be feminine. When our bodies become in conflict with the gender scripts, again we do not feel at home. Now instead of being a stranger to oneself, one is a stranger amongst everyone else. Your body is given a gender script, but your mind wants to do the opposite. Again there is a kind of mental-physical disagreement, and in this sense, you do not feel at home - you no longer belong to your body; your body no longer belongs to you.
The second sentence ("Look at those homeless people sleep in the streets.") is a common observation, and it is indicative of what we generally associate the concept of "home" with: a dwelling place. The term "dwelling" is very powerful because it does not just mean a place for you to sleep. "Dwelling" means protection, comfort, belonging and privacy at the same time. When we are done with work or school, we come back home, where we can be protected from the winds and the rowdy kids, comforted by familiar surroundings and unbounded from the gazes of others. The four walls of the house is the symbol of that dwelling: behind the walls you are free to do as you like, and you are comfortably free. This is what we mean by "homeless": not that there is no place to sleep, but a "home" is more than a place for sleeping.
The third sentence ("Finally, after 13 hours of flight, we are back home.") refers yet another concept of home. This "home" is also a boundary, but a political boundary. Nationality is also a kind of home: we are more familiar with the traditions, laws and culture of our nation. The nation is a bigger family, living in a bigger dwelling. The interesting thing about this is that national boundaries are entirely arbitrary and out of our own control: one day Quebec is part of Canada; the next day, not. And it is very different from your own house, where you are at will to make the changes you want to make - move a bookcase here, a garbage can there. In a nation (or even at a larger community), we cannot just add a library here and a dump there. The really key difference between "home" as dwelling and "home" as nation (or community) is the mode of participation. "Home" as nation requires involvement to a common cause. "Home" is actually a network of people within a given political boundary, and the political boundary is the symbol of that network.
The four sentence ("I'm going back home for Christmas to see my relatives, then I'll come back for school.") presents the idea of "home" in yet another way. "Home" is no longer a physical space, but a desinated area where something else (namely, family) is. It is interesting to see that the idea of "home" can be applied to something that is not stable, in the sense of a certain space. Family members can live anywhere, yet some kind of home-ness remains in that fluidity. But at the very root the essential meaning of "home" does not change: family is where one belongs; it is where one is protected, where one feels comfortable, and where one does not have to be self-conscious all the time.
The fifth sentence ("The way these people act is so much different than those back home.") is even more abstract than the fourth case. The sentence implies that a certain social culture makes one feel at home. It is not a physical space, nor is it even a desinated area of any sort. "Home" in this sense is simply familiarity (and where, we get back to the root word "family"): one does a certain thing and is not considered as a stranger by the gazes of the surrounding people. Belonging to the same culture gives an imaginary protection, comfort and satisfaction. The physical boundaries of a dwelling place is completely erased.
This erasure of physical boundaries when we talk about home leads us to the last sentence. The last sentence ("Make yourself at home!") is perhaps the most profound of all expressions. It is commonly used but uncommonly discussed. This expression is profound because the only possible way to make onself at home is only if "home" is completely imaginary. One builds an idea of home inside one's mind, and apply it on different scales in different times and location. "Make yourself at home" is the extreme case; at the same time it is the most common case: it is instinctively what we do when come to a new environment, a "non-home" environment. We try to make it home in any possible way, whether it is a physical, mental, social or cultural level. Remember your first day in elementary school, or highschool; what you do when you go to your friend's home; what you do when you first went on a social function. I would imagine you try your very best to establish a space of your own, which, at the same time, blends right into the larger social space.
And I think ultimately, considering all of these usages of "home", "home" is an imaginary space which allows us to feel belonged. Who are we kidding when we think that our bodies, our houses, our countries and our families actually give us 100% protection, comfort and privacy? Every one of these entities are so fragile, that it is all too easy for them to fall apart - accidents, evil schemes, social disagreements, political turmoil or just plain personality-disorder will tear these imaginary spaces apart. But we constantly "make ourselves at home" because homes offers a refuge for us. We feel that there is something we can hold on to. I can "go home" after a long day at work. You can "go home" after you've travelled in a strange place. We can "go home" after for a while stepping outside of our normal course of action. So what is "home"? Plainly, it is an imaginary construct which allows us to feel belonged. The "other" is outside.
posted by Tristan at 10:23 a.m.
1 Comments:
reminds me of that time when I stepped out of Vancouver airport last summer and my heart started beating so fast until I came back to this 'home' and ran straight to my bed and covered myself with my blanket...then I finally felt calm. lol.
Brent.
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