Lately I’ve been reflecting on what it means to be an international student, and how it shapes us far beyond the number of languages we speak. What happens when we’re educated about the world in ways that slowly pull us away from our own cultures? How does the idea of “home” evolve when exploration is so deeply rooted in our values? How do we stay close to the people we love when they live across oceans and time zones? And the most difficult question of all: will we ever find a place that feels like home, when we’ve never fully known what home is?