The Case of Home v. House

Yurt in a Vacation Resort in Southern France

 

Reading the real estate ads in various media, or listening to conversations at parties or meetings between people of various social strata, one would be misled into believing that “house” is synonym of “home.” Are we to believe then, that residents of condominiums, townhouses, villas, rented apartments, modular homes or trailers are homeless? 

According to the www.dictionary.com website, a home is “ house, apartment, or other shelter that is the usual residence of a person, family, or household, and the place in which one's domestic affections are centered.” The same website cites a house as “a building where people live, or used for any purpose.” 

So pervasive is that ill-conceived notion that it has become a part of the vernacular:  "We're getting ready to sell our condo to buy a home". or "They have outgrown their home and want to move into a condo".  

I find irritating the arrogance contained in such statements which imply that moving into a house is a step up, and out of one a step down. Where did this elitist notion come from, which planted in our societal conscience the seed that the one is better than the other? 

Are we to believe that only single-family houses -- as structures with a foundation and no shared walls with any other dwelling -- are worthy of being called homes? Is moving from an apartment, condominium or townhouse, to a freestanding house, to be construed as the ultimate step up the societal housing ladder? Is a 3,000 square-foot luxury condominium still a step down from a 1,500 square-foot one story free-standing structure?

Gypsy roulotte in Vacation Resort in Southern France

Maybe the real estate industry ought to revise its marketing strategy and adjust its lingo to match our internal realities. Home is an abstract concept -- not a physical structure --, an emotional reality which is the glue holding the roots of daily life together. The word represents the nest where we find our very own pillow at night; the place that harbors the familiar things that illustrate our life journeys. It commemorates our personal histories with souvenirs and artwork picked up in all the places we’ve traveled to; or gifts from loved ones; or framed photos of our favorite scenery or people.

Any structure -- whether on one floor or on several, free-standing or with shared walls and common areas -- can be, is a home. So long as, for those who live in it, it's the base, no matter the square footage, where we start and end our days, and can shed all our other personae. Whether it comes with a private garage, a covered one or none at all, in a city or a suburb.

I have moved many times in my life, sometimes willingly, sometimes not; within or out of a given state (I have lived in seven of them); alone or with a partner, with or without children; in comfortable surroundings of my choosing, or sharing a house with another woman because I was broke.

When we return to the place where we can take off the various hats we have to wear every day when we are out in the world, even a tent will qualify as a suitable shelter, and thus deserves to be called “home.”