When I returned home for summer break, I returned to a place that I wasn’t from. My parents moved from West Virginia to Columbus, Ohio during my first year at Princeton. The three weeks between the end of my freshman year and the start of my internship presented me with an opportunity: I could properly explore Columbus at my own leisure.
The weather in the Buckeye State is nicer in late spring when compared to winter break, which I experienced when I last visited Ohio. The sun hangs in the sky longer than it did in the winter; evening rush hour occurs under the serene colors following the setting sun. Yet during my first week back in Ohio, I couldn’t help but feel bothered by heat and humidity. The UV was so strong that I could practically feel it underneath my skin. Such summer weather in Columbus isn’t very different from West Virginia, but at least in West Virginia, I knew where I was going whenever I left the house.
As a result, I took advantage of the chance to do nothing. I slept more hours than I knew I was even capable of sleeping. I endlessly scrolled on my phone. At one point, videos longer than thirty seconds could not even hold my attention. I experienced “brain rot” to the extent where I became hyper aware of the phenomenon. After texting a chain of Instagram reels to my friend, I followed up with a text explaining “I have not formed a single thought in days.”
During the last week before starting my internship, the temperature steadily declined in Columbus. With the sudden breezes, I found it easier to spend time in town, making new observations.
The high temperature of the 80s drew closer to the 70s. There were a few mornings when the temperature dropped to 50 degrees, and I began to imagine the fall. The new neighborhood we live in has fewer children but more small dogs. It’s quieter than my old neighborhood — not only in the mornings, but also on weekends. I doubt Halloween is as festive here as it was in the place where I grew up.
The roads are wider, and there are more roundabouts than intersections. Construction projects are scattered throughout town on flat spaces of land, which is a jarring comparison to the tall mountains that crept up around my hometown. In Columbus, fertilizer saturates the air whenever I run past these sites. Furthermore, I keep seeing gas stations called United Dairy Farmers. I never heard of such a thing before moving to Columbus. Then again, I was entirely unfamiliar with Wawa this time last year.
Beyond this summer interlude in Columbus, I will have more time to explore the Midwest through a summer in northwest Ohio. A few months after my parents' move, I accepted a summer internship located two hours away from Columbus at Midstory, a nonprofit media thinkhub focused on the Midwest. This will be my first summer in the Midwest; it will be the first summer I will spend separated from my former home in West Virginia.
My understanding of place is now defined by intersections of different locations. During my first year, Princeton has been a place of comfort and discomfort. West Virginia used to be my only home, but it is now my old home. And now, I consider myself fortunate to be spending a summer in the Midwest (even if it’s Ohio). By the time I return to campus, maybe I will know what defines the Midwest aside from its geographical location, and uncover what this region means to me.
Annie Wang is an assistant editor for The Prospect from West Virginia. She can be reached at annie.wang[at]princeton.edu.
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