Coming Together To “Go Home”

Because the love of family and home unites us all.

l to r: Chris, Allison, Karen, Scott (missing Katherine from NYC).

There’s a lot of fear, uncertainty and anger out there, but recently I participated in something that made me SMILE!

Last week my immediate family converged at the Maypole Art Center in Chicago to see a gallery showing called, “Going Home”. This event was conceived by a work colleague and good friend of my daughter who lives in Chicago. But instead of being our typical tourist-selves casually meandering through a display of professional artists’ works, we were participants, each having submitted a piece for the show. This was a first for all of us!

Each person‘s submission was to be about how they remembered their house or apartment from childhood, and they could choose to do a painting, drawing, floor plan, map of the neighborhood, a written or spoken narrative, a photograph, or a song. The piece had to fit within an 18 x 24-inch space, and most importantly, “No idea is a bad idea!”

When we arrived, the gallery was already full of over sixty people who had all made submissions. Each participant’s piece was nicely mounted on the walls of the gallery. We quickly found our five pieces grouped together and took a family picture in front of our display.

My wife wrote a poem about growing up in a Chicago apartment above a tavern that was owned by her grandparents. I wrote an essay reminiscing about going back to see my old childhood homes and feeling overwhelmed with happy/sad nostalgia. Our son framed a colorful abstract painting that highlighted features of our house (which we call “714”) and lawn and trees. Our daughter from Chicago drew a dollhouse-view of 714 and filled each room with hand lettered stream-of-conscious phrases that each space evoked. Our daughter who lives in NYC framed a picture of our house at Christmas time all lit up, accompanied by a short narrative about returning to the house she grew up in. All three kids paid homage to the gigantic magnolia tree in our front yard which we consider part of the family.

The diversity of submissions was so impressive and spoke volumes about the creativity of average people that can be unleashed when the right theme is given to them: sketches; old photos with updated captions; 6-minute spontaneous stories; performance art with “home” messages attached; a chronology of milestone life memories; and photos/drawings of the proverbial “kitchen table.”

Our family fanned out to mingle, converse, and became absorbed in the crowd for almost two hours. Everyone was talking to everyone and the vibe was so warm and joyful as we each had questions for each other:

· Where did you grow up?

· What was your house like?

· Where/when does your family get together?

· Did you share a room with a sibling(s)?

· … and many more.

It was a very special, one-of-a-kind evening that not only showcased our artistic talents such as they are, but most importantly it inspired our true shared humanity to shine through. We knew none of the people who were there. They came from all walks of life and affiliations but by the end of the evening you would think we had been good friends for years because we were talking about the love of “family” and “home” which unites us all.

However, it is important to recognize that “going home” may not be a positive experience for everyone for many reasons: parental abuse, addiction, family dysfunction, sudden deaths too soon, or a disaster of some sort that destroyed the house.

One gentleman stood up on a small stage to tell a short story of how his childhood home was destroyed, his parents then both passed away, and the family fell into dysfunction.

“Jersey Girl,” by Marie Caiazzo

One woman had a picture of her childhood home surrounded by old black-and-white pictures of New Jersey mobsters, with a caption that read: “My father was a mob captain in the Gambino family. My mother‘s love and care tried to keep my father’s business away from us, but it was always there like a dark shadow.“

Both of these submitters survived their past to tell their stories today. I suppose we all have our good and bad memories, part of the tapestry of life. But still, the “American Dream” has always been about “home” and still can be. We must do everything we can to protect “home” for all of us, not just the lucky ones.

So next time you go to a gathering, give this a try as you engage people in the room:

“So, where’s home?”