At some point or another, everybody leaves home. Were it otherwise, they'd have no need for it. Birds are pushed out of the nest. Trees fall out of the sky shaped like acorns to create new trees, unless they are eaten. This everyday, dramatic pushing out into the world happens everywhere, and reading this, you are either dwelling on your own leaving or standing on the brink of something frightening.
But having only been away from my familiar bed for a week, it's become clear to me that we are never able to leave anything completely behind. It's ourselves that we leave behind, like lost petals of a flower too weathered by time. And wherever we go, no matter how far, or how long we are gone, we can never get fully away from home.
That's part of what this letter is about; this collective letter written by acorns and young adults alike. In order to continue to grow and anchor ourselves in our unfamiliar environments, it grows more important every day to connect to the part of ourselves that exists elsewhere: The security of being watched over, the freedom to fall, the heartbreak of having to part so many ways.
And like all letters, this one won't be written solely by writers. Everybody dances with joy and everyone sings alone in their car. I welcome everyone who has ever walked out the door with their memories in a suitcase, looked to the sky, and thought to themselves, "here goes everything" to have the courage to say "Mother, I never left high school."
