It’s not just freshmen who are susceptible. I was two weeks into my seventh semester at Cornell when I came down with the same illness I always get when I’m away from Maryland for too long: homesickness. I missed watching basketball with my dad, cooking with my mom, talking hip-hop with my brother—even shopping with my sister. And of course, I missed our poodle.
It happened on a beautiful Friday afternoon—partly sunny with a light breeze. I had just finished class and was walking along the Slope to my apartment when I decided to sit down and enjoy the view. I was in a fine mood, but homesickness always seems to strike unexpectedly. Suddenly, a yearning overwhelmed me—for my hometown of Potomac, Maryland, and everything about it.
Then I got to thinking: I have a car, and if I leave now I can be home in time for dinner. Home cooking! Turkey burgers, maybe, or mushroom risotto. I’d return on Sunday, so I wouldn’t miss any classes. At that point I was standing, ready to call home. But then I snapped out of it.
I’m still not sure what triggered this particular bout of homesickness; perhaps it was something about that expansive view of Ithaca that made home seem so far away. But I think the reason I stayed in Ithaca that afternoon was because I realized something: the Slope is my home, too.
— Daniel Tsoy ’13