My paternal grandmother has a bear that she brings out every holiday season to adorn her front steps. At least that was how it used to be. When my grandmother and her mother, my Nan, purchased the three-foot-tall bear that sings Perry Como’s “(No Place Like) Home for the Holidays,” my cousins and I, ages six, five and four, affectionately named the bear George. He was purchased in upstate Pennsylvania with one thought in mind: the kids will love him. And love him, we did. From that year on, George was just as important as the Christmas tree, and he was placed on the front steps under one strict condition. The three grandchildren were to take a photo with him; Our annual “George picture,” as we refer to it. That first Christmas, George was the tallest one in the picture, which was 17 years ago. There are now six grandchildren. This year marks the ninth anniversary of Nan’s passing and George is too heavy for my grandmother to bring down from the attic on her own. But on the night of Christmas Eve, typically when wrapping paper covers the floors and to-go boxes are being packed, George is brought down for his annual group picture. 

My cousins and I, the ones who originally named him, are now 22, 21 and 20, and if you were to take our George picture from the waist up, George wouldn’t even be in the photo. But don’t worry, there are now three more grandkids who are creeping up on George’s height, a second generation of cousins to keep George singing. There really is no place like home for the holidays. 

This year, however, I won’t be celebrating Thanksgiving with my family because I’m in London studying abroad. I know that similar circumstances apply to many of us here at Fordham. With students attending from every part of the globe, it can be nearly impossible to return home for the holiday season and spend that much-needed family time. So what do we do? 

I know that for myself, my roommates and I, along with friends, will be having a “friendsgiving” of sorts. One of my friends back at Rose Hill is from Turkey and even though Thanksgiving isn’t celebrated there, it is a holiday she has become accustomed to, and even looks forward to. Every year, she heads home with one of her roommates and spends the holiday with their family. Another one of my friends spends the break, both Thanksgiving and winter, exploring different parts of the city and even going up to Connecticut to see what the holidays look like beyond the Rockefeller Center tree.

My first Thanksgiving at Fordham, I brought a friend home for break. Being from New Jersey, home isn’t a far trek, unlike for my friend, who was from California. Watching him sit so comfortably at my family’s dinner table, knowing how much he missed his own family that day, gave me a feeling that was unexplainable. I felt so fortunate to be able to offer someone such comfort on a day that no one should spend alone. 

As much of the holidays are about family tradition, it is up to us, as we enter adulthood, to create our own personal traditions. Last year, my friends and I organized a Secret Santa brunch. It was one of my favorite days of the entire semester. Dressed in our holiday best, exchanging gifts and laughing, surrounded by the people who make the place. Something I’m missing just as much as home right now is getting to see the wreath on Keating Hall and all the holiday lights around campus, something I encourage you not to take for granted. 

One December, I was on the Metro-North headed back from the city and sat next to a family on their way to see the Christmas lights, walk around the paths in the New York Botanical Gardens and have dinner on Arthur Avenue. The parents were Fordham alumni and told me this was their family tradition. Although we might not be “home,” seeing people traveling to see our shared home was a reminder for us all that home is sometimes just where we happen to be at the moment. Let’s make the best of it. 

Have a happy Thanksgiving!