Today we share the fifth of six pieces of public writing selected for publication from an assignment in ENGL 801 “Graduate Studies in English” — and the first selection from Section A of ENGL 801, taught last fall by Cameron Leader-Picone: a piece of public scholarship (700-1,000 words) which tailors an academic paper and its scholarly intervention of 10-12 pages for a general-interest audience.
Read more about the assignment and the first publication, “Men, Monsters, and Maidens: Gender in Dracula” by Amber McAfee (MA ’26), in the post from December 5, and enjoy the subsequent posts: “Journaling on Mars: The Pen is Mightier Than the Planet” by Jeffery Jones (MA ’26), “It’s Alive” by Juan Maldonado (MA ’26), and “Sarcasm at the End of the World” by Eve Wilson (MA ’25). Now, on to “Location: Temporary” by Cariana Kut (MA ’26) —
— Karin Westman, Professor and Department Head / Instructor for ENGL 801 B/ZA (Fall 2024)
I wait for it with bated breath. The same question that comes with every introduction.
“So, where are you from?”
I pause and sigh.
Am I from the desert where I was born? The brown color palette with radiating sun that I don’t even remember.
Or am I from the Midwest, where we visit our relatives during summer or winter break?
Or still, maybe I should claim the overseas tropical island, the place that currently holds the title of the location where I’ve lived the longest?
I’ve had years of practice to come up with a response, but it still stumps me every time. As a military brat, I have moved to a new location on average every 2-3 years, and while I love each place, they are tied with specific versions of myself that I have outgrown. Claiming a specific place makes it feel like I have to claim that piece of myself as my defining identity in order to belong.
When people ask you where you are from, you typically respond with your home or your hometown. But what about those people that do not have a hometown? Physical space and belonging are so intertwined through the word home. Home grounds you. It’s a place that is comforting. It’s said to be permanent, and it’s familiar.
For people who are still searching for that idea of home, one way to better understand the feeling is through reading books.
One story that I love for its sense of belonging is Anne of Green Gables. Published in 1908 by Lucy Maud Montgomery, the novel begins with Anne’s arrival at Green Gables after a mixup that leaves elderly siblings Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert with a loquacious, imaginative eleven-year-old orphan girl. The Cuthberts decide to adopt Anne, and she promptly settles into life at Green Gables, although she proceeds to get herself into many well-intentioned scrapes. Throughout the novel, readers watch Anne as she searches for a sense of belonging especially in terms of physical space.
Right from the novel’s title, we are introduced to Anne’s sense of belonging being connected to a physical space, Anne of Green Gables. The title signifies Anne’s connection to Green Gables, which grows as the novel progresses. As Anne settles into life at Green Gables, her own room as well as the house, begins to reflect her personality and taste. They are decorated with many flowers and photographs that match her vivacious personality. Anne goes from being a guest to being a member of the family, and we see this shift mirrored in the way the interior of the house changes to accommodate Anne’s personality.
By moving on average every 2-3 years, military brats tend to have a unique connection to physical space as they perceive them as temporary stops in life. Anne’s sense of belonging resonates with me because I have not experienced this deep sense of rootedness and connection to a place like she has. I have never been allowed to paint my walls or decorate them. If I had I would have painted them a light misty jade or maybe a very pale teal. My walls would have been decorated with different frames, and the crowning glory of my room would have been a photo collage that is continually expanding across the wall as I add more memories captured by photographs. I might have an overflowing bookshelf with books I have been collecting since I could read. My closet would be full of clothes and other items that never have to be packed away.
There are so many would haves for me with physical spaces that someday I’ll get to turn into a reality. Maybe I’ll decorate each room differently in homage to the past versions of myself that never got to express themselves in the physical space they lived. Maybe I’ll go all out and create a cohesive theme for the house with everything matching nicely. Or maybe I’ll just appreciate the space as it is and decorate as time passes by.
Belonging to a physical space creates this sense of rootedness that is challenging to establish when you are frequently packing up and heading to the next destination. But I look forward to someday finding my own place and when I do, I will be able to provide a more concrete answer to the question, “Where are you from?” Answering with certainty about where I belong.
Works Cited
Montgomery, L. M. Anne of Green Gables. Grosset & Dunlap, 1908.
— Cariana Kut (MA ’26)
K-State English 
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