I guess you find an identity wherever you find an identity. When you are an immigrant or some kind of “second” (I’ll explain that TK), that is particularly difficult. I envy those people who can just say “I’m from here. No further information.”
I’m a “second.” That means I was born in one place, moved to another and settled in yet another. I know people who are from Europe, grew up in the Middle East and then settled in America. My story isn’t nearly that complex. I was born in Poland, I grew up in New York and now I love in the greatest place on earth, New England.
I joke with my mom that we are preppiest Polish people ever. My mom and I have discussions about the word “summer” as in how to use it as a verb. We’ve also had disagreements about patterns at Lily Pulitzer. How we came upon this interesting identity is anyone’s guess. I’ve always liked the preppies though, style-wise and aspired to them education wise.
And now I get to “summer” or in this case “weekend” where they weekend. Is weekend a verb now?? Who knows?? English is weird after all.
Weekending in Maine. With the rest of preppie brethren. Now brethren is definitely a preppie word.