I don’t mean it to sound like I really hated my childhood.. Honestly, the older I get, the more I realize it’s the opposite.

This town sheltered my childhood. I grew up around complete families. I grew up surrounded by culture, and diversity. I grew up in a community of adopted children, and through that, my eyes were opened to the huge world outside my little island. I grew up enmeshed in the local Native culture, and through that understood the concept of respect. And I grew up in a town that is probably 75% wild nature, and through that I developed knowledge of more than just human culture. I watched our beloved Glacier slowly melt away, and understood that what we do really does matter. Climate Change is real. I remember the Exxon Valdez oil spill in ’89, and understood that life is more than just we see on land. I saw a wolf on the ice, I watched from a distance as it tipped its head back and howled, and I realized some things TV and Photos just can’t capture. That there is a real world out there, and first hand is sometimes the only way to really experience it.

It took me years to realize. But it all soaked into my development as I lived and grew. No one had to teach it to me. Like my mother never tought me her Spaghetti recipe, but I know it. Like my father never tought me how to shell fresh shrimp, but I know how.

I ran away from my childhood once I finished High School. I washed away the memories and never wanted to go back.

Juneau, Alaska was where I spent 20 years of my life. It is my childhood. I knew culture, I knew nature, I knew Love.

I simply mean to say, that through this return, I have realized that it is no longer my home. All things continue to move, and I had moved on. It wasn’t for me to stay there.

(Photo credits from 11 years ago.)

Parting Shots..

The entire city of Juneau, Alaska is covered in a thick haze. Smoke from wild fires up north. It distorted a lot of the views. The mountains in the distance, standing like sentinel ghosts. And the heat was record breaking. These aren’t the way things are supposed to be there..

And maybe it was fitting for my return. All of my memories got distorted and turned on their head..

The truth is, Juneau is no longer my home. I don’t know it anymore. Everything is different. The shops, the people, the Glacier, the trees! Some things are the same. The beaches.. But none of it felt like “home.”

We spent so much time playing tourist, and seeing as much as we could see.. It wasn’t like I was returning to my home.

I’ve lately spent so much time confused about who I am and what I should be doing. The two people I reunited with, so head strong and assured in what they are doing. Why couldn’t I find that?

I don’t really know what I had been expecting. Some grand revelatory moment? Some golden answer to all my quiries?

Instead, it was like opening a box, to find it’s empty inside..

I had never believed or felt that I was really an Alaskan. Not the way some people do. But I suppose this trip confirmed it for me. Alaska is not my “Home.”

“Home” is still a place I’m searching for..