A Hand for a Home

 For me, home was always the same place up until college. Weirdly enough, when I moved away to college, I also moved out of the only house and town I'd ever called home before. From then on, every time I went home from college, it was to a different town in a different house than the place I'd grown up in.  This fundamentally changed the way I saw "home". The town I used to live in versus the town I live in now are very different, but so am I. This got me thinking about the different seasons of life and how where you are changes you and changes how you see yourself in the world. Moving after high school really helped me to cut that part of my life off and move past my childhood, really helping me to mentally move on and grow into a new person. Sure, I miss my childhood home, but it was also so intertwined in me that it defined who I was. I felt stuck. Moving off to college while simultaneously never having to go back to my hometown except by choice was immensely helpf...

Our home is nestled in the Adirondacks of Upstate New York, surrounded by mountains and tall pines. We built our house only a couple of years ago, but even in that short amount of time, I have been lucky enough to truly call it my home. A house may be made of wood, nails, and concrete, but a home is made of memories, moments, and people and for me, the memories began long before this house was ever built. Many of the best memories from my childhood took place within the walls of my old home, where every corner seemed to hold a piece of who I was becoming. From playdates on the playground to building forts deep in the woods, from cannonballing into the pool to making s’mores at the firepit, my home shaped so much of my early life. Those experiences created a sense of belonging that has followed me into the house we live in now. I am grateful that I’ve had not just a place to sleep, but a place filled with joy, comfort, and connection. I know not everyone gets to say that which makes me...

When people talk about home, they usually start with a place. A street, a childhood house, a town they grew up in. For me, it’s never been that simple. Home has changed locations, but the feeling has always stayed the same. I spent the first ten years of my life in Pennsylvania. Although I was young, I remember a lot of the details from my childhood home, the way weekends felt slow, the way my parents tried to make every small thing feel fun, the comfort of knowing exactly how the days would go. When we moved to Tennessee, everything else was different: new school, new routines, new people. But my family felt the same, so the idea of “home” came with us without much effort. Looking back, the moments that made each house feel like home weren’t huge events. It was things like my mom calling me into the kitchen just to talk while she cooked, or my dad trying to fix something and somehow making the situation of something being broken funny, or spending hours playing Mario Cart with my si...

  When asking someone to describe home, it is unlikely you will hear that same description from someone else. Home is so unique to everyone. The feelings associated with the place itself, the people there, the things you do, the life you live. Home is so individual. I grew up in the suburbs of Chicago. I live in a bigger town and even though I moved a few times, I always stayed within that town. While each house looked different, the connotation of the word home was always the same. This is because it was my family and our relationships, my dog, the places I went. Whichever house I lived in, my favorite moments were still sitting with my dad outside while he would cook on the barbeque, or watching a show with my mom to wind down in the evening.  Home is also our traditions. One of my favorite representations of home is having everyone over to our house to host Christmas Eve. The day of the house is busy, filled with all of us cleaning, baking, cooking, and playing Christmas mu...

The address on your driver's license might just look like a building, apartment, or house– but it is more than that. It is a home.  The meaning of home is a little different for everyone. It might be that distinct “home smell” that hits as soon as you walk through the door. For others, it's their mom making a home-cooked meal as their pet softly purrs in the corner.  No matter what your home looks or sounds like, it's a reflection of who you are and where you come from.  For me, there truly is no place like home.  I’m an out-of-state student from Maryland, about 8 hours away from Knoxville. And I’ve definitely fallen in love with my life here between the friends, my apartment, and the community around me, it feels like my own space. But nothing compares to pulling into the driveway back in Maryland, after a long car ride, knowing that I’m finally home .  The comfort in that moment just can’t be recreated anywhere else.  The funny thing is, as much as I love...

Hello! We are five University of Tennessee, Knoxville students partnering with Hand UP for Women, a local nonprofit that helps women in our community break free from addiction, abuse, and poverty. Our goal is to raise $1,000 to help pay off the newly purchased Miracle Ridge property to allow renovations to begin and create safe housing for women in need. For this blog, we’re focusing on what home really means to us. We all have something that makes where we live a home, maybe its family dinners, traditions or our childhood bedroom. Home is different for everyone, but it's always special. In this, we hope to remind you also that not everyone has a home. Luckily, organizations like Hand Up For Women are striving to change this, and with your help, you can change that too. Personal Introductions:  Julia: Hello! My name is Julia Dieter, and I’m a third year student at UT Knoxville studying Public Affairs with a concentration in National Security. Ultimately, my goal is to pursue a car...