You can never go home again

They say that you can never go home again. I'm not sure who 'they' are (indeed a google search didn't reveal much), but they sure seem to have hit on something. I think that this phrase can take on different meanings for different situations and individuals.

For me, the phrase hits on the fact that while some things can remain the same about a place that was once familiar, time does alter other fundamental characteristics. These may be subtle and non-obvious to the uninitiated, but they are there. The dichotomy of much being the same, but some subtleties changed, creates an unsettling feeling.

Wandering around Harvard for the first time since graduation has been much like this for me. Harvard is still the same. The same buildings; the same beautiful grounds; the same stores, coffee shops, and restaurants; even the same homeless people and protesters. In fact, the feel of the students is the same, rushing around to meetings and rehearsals and games, trying to walk the fine line between getting good grades and having a life.

But the difference is that my class is gone. The class of 2007 has long dispersed into the world, to far flung places in Africa and Asia and Europe, or simply to new lives with jobs and apartments within Boston. This may be just one class - and certainly I had many friends in younger years - but it has a huge impact.

Harvard is no longer our place; it is a place we used to know.