I once made the mistake of watching the movie Inside Out on an airplane. You know, the animated film featuring a girl and all the feelings inside her head? I was flying back from Arizona visiting my family, and I thought, “I know Pixar likes to make you cry a little but it’ll be fine.” That’s how I found myself bawling somewhere over the Midwest using one little cocktail napkin to wipe my tears.
Because what I didn’t know at the time is that Inside Out is all about an 11-year-old girl who moves across the country when her dad gets a new job. It hit a little close to home. That plot line was essentially my entire childhood. My dad had a job where we’d move every three or four years, and people would ask, “Oh, are you in the military?” and my mom would say, “No, we’re corporate nomads.”
I learned that moving as a child would put me through all the stages of grief. There would be denial: “I’m going to go live with my friend! You can’t make me move!” Anger: “You are the worst parents ever!” Bargaining: “Can I come back and visit every six months?” But eventually acceptance would win out.
There were some good things about moving all the time that I learned at an early age. All your clothes are new because no one’s seen your wardrobe before! You get to make new friends. It’s a hassle, yes, but it also provides a natural break from people that maybe you were growing apart from anyway. Then there were the things I thought moving would help, but didn’t.
I always thought starting a new school would be my chance to be the cool kid. Every time we moved, I told myself this time I’ll hang out with the cool kids, and everybody will think I’m cool, and I’ll really reinvent myself, but that always failed after about two or three months. I’d either realize that the cool kids were boring, or I’d make some sort of ill-timed Star Trek reference and they would spot me, and I’d be back with the nerds.
So I feel like at least I learned early on in life that you can’t run away from who you really are. Some people spend their whole lives before they figure out that you can’t just change your geography and have that really change your inside self. You have the same voice in your head no matter where you live.
My parents did give me a sense of control in all this by letting me help pick a school. We’d visit a town and I’d go into one of the local schools and meet the principal and a guidance counselor and get a tour. I got pretty good at judging schools from just a quick look around. You can spot the cliquey ones or the ones that value sports. I would give them a list of favorites (which weren’t always the schools that people suggested) and they’d try to find a house in that district.
People ask me all the time, “Would you rather have moved a lot as a kid or would you rather have grown up in one place?” and it’s always hard to decide. I can’t compare it since I don’t know what the other option would have been like. I think I like the idea of having people that have known you since kindergarten. I think that’s maybe something I miss sometimes, but I do think my childhood gave me a chance to see all the different ways people experience America.
Sometimes politicians talk about who is a “real American” and seem to think one group or another has a monopoly on American values. I’ve lived coast to coast, and I can tell you that people want the same things wherever they live, but the way they approach their goals just varies wildly. To say that there’s one true America doesn’t do justice to all the ways people are out there just trying to make a better life for themselves and their children.
So I hope that the girl from Inside Out thinks maybe her life is better because she had to move across the country. She gets to learn a little more about the world. Still, that little bit at the end where she hugs her parents and cries gets me every time. I understand your feelings, girl.
