Requisite picture of “The Bean,” taken well after settling into the city. (Photo by David Fairbanks)

The idea of “home” is a bit strange. Most people eventually lose the home they grew up in, either literally or metaphorically, and spend part or even all of their adulthood looking for somewhere that is more than simply a place to store their things.

For me, I found home walking from Union Station to my first admitted students’ day at Columbia during an unusually brisk April just over two years ago, but I took a somewhat winding road to get to where I am now: a first-year candidate in the Poetry MFA Program at Columbia.

I TA a class that meets on a floor with this view? How did this happen? (Photo by David Fairbanks)

To begin with, my undergraduate degree is a BS in Physics from Illinois Wesleyan University. Yes, there’s a story there, but it’s for another time. I then turned down my initial admission to the Columbia Poetry MFA Program to study at Southern Illinois University in Carbondale.

A perfect storm of family emergencies and shattered expectations after just a semester in Carbondale had me looking to flee Southern Illinois, and I remembered the feeling of familiarity Chicago gave me on my first visit to Columbia. So I packed, and packed. and packed (the hazards of being a writer and reader who prefers print to digital), and moved to a small garden apartment in Lincoln Square, sight unseen.

It’s worked out pretty well so far.

The start of my challenging coursework for the semester, with necessary coffee. (Photo by David Fairbanks)

I re-applied and was re-admitted to Columbia. I’m surrounded by more life and culture than I have time to experience. I’m discovering and being welcomed by poets and writers of all backgrounds, including current and veteran members of Columbia’s Poetry MFA Program. I’m already being challenged by my coursework in some of the best possible ways. And while my apartment still feels a bit more like an apartment than a home, I’m finding myself feeling like this city is where I belong whether I’m writing at a coffee shop, lingering in front of paintings at the Art Institute, or just waiting for the train to arrive.

I’ve visited other places and other cities, but none of them welcomed me like Chicago has. I’ve experienced other fields and other schools, but Columbia College Chicago feels like home in a way that few other people or places have.

Now that you know a bit about me, if you’re wondering “why Columbia?” beyond this rather indescribable feeling of belonging, check back in a few weeks. Right now, I’ve got poems that need writing.

I don’t do all of my writing on a typewriter, but much of it starts here. (Photo by David Fairbanks)