Culture of One

One of the most influential experiences in my life so far has been moving. I have moved five times in my life, every time out of state. For the most part I do not remember my first three moves because I was young, and making friends in new places was easy. My last two moves have shaped me into who I am today, and have helped me greatly. I would not say that I have enjoyed moving, but now that it is over with I highly value the characteristics and attitude I have acquired from moving. Starting fresh is never easy, and I especially learned that during my last move from Illinois to Washington. The news that I was moving came as a huge shock to me, because we had lived in Illinois for four years, the longest time we’ve ever been in one state. I was extremely bitter, because I loved my friends and fully expected to graduate high school in that house. In 8^th grade I moved to Washington, and it was a huge struggle for me. It was the last year of middle school, and groups of friends had already been formed. I had to force myself to go outside my comfort zone and make new friends, because no one made the effort towards me. Although the first few months were awkward and challenging, I was able to adjust and made meaningful friendships that lasted throughout high school. Although change is always a scary thing, through moving I’ve learned to cope with it better than most. One of the ways moving has helped me was during my transition to college. Freshman year is tough on everyone, but I did not struggle as much as everyone warned me I would. I feel like I have already made some great friendships in college, and I largely attribute that to what I’ve learned from moving around so often.

A part of my life that has always been confusing is church. When I was younger, my family attended church every Sunday without fail. I never questioned anything, and never felt out of place at church. This lasted until my move to Washington, which was about 5 years ago. When we arrived in Washington, we bounced around a few churches to see which one we liked, and settled on a Presbyterian church near our home. As usual, we continued to attend church every Sunday for about the first year after the move. My brother and I went through confirmation and even went on a mission trip with our church. After that, the pastor our entire family loved decided to leave the church. We tried to stick with the church, but did not find the replacement pastor nearly as engaging or relatable. So, we bounced around churches a few more times, and did not seem to find any we liked. We began to skip church every couple of Sundays, until eventually it got to the point where our family did not go at all. Honestly I did not mind; I was tired of trying to figure out what church we should settle on. From that point on we only attended church on Easter and Christmas, and no one talked about church anymore. I felt very distant from any kind of god, and never felt at place in church. My beliefs changed, and I am never sure how to answer if I am a Christian or not, or if I even believe in God. I have not shut out the possibility of believing in God, and that is why I think of Whitworth as an opportunity to explore further into that area of my life.

Moving and church have been very important in my life, and as I’ve grown older my outlook on both has vastly changed. I do not feel any regret towards either of these experiences, and try to draw on what I’ve learned from them as much as possible.