Dear America,
Growing up, my parents relentlessly drilled into my head the importance of thank-you notes as a courteous way to acknowledge someone who has gone above and beyond to help you, gift you or host you in their home. So, after 12 months of living in the home of the brave it is only polite that I properly thank this country for its hospitality this past year.
So…thank you for letting a plucky young Canadian into your country, for letting me live, learn and experience all things Americana. Thank you for the Chicago Cubs, a terribly bad baseball team with ridiculously good fans; thank you for the Blackhawks’ Stanley Cup win, for the celebration on Clark Street and for letting me experience something that will tragically not happen in Toronto for a very, very long time.
Thank you to the teachers, who taught me, listened to me and guided me through this crash course of real-world reporting. And thank you for not giving me a Medill F because of that superfluous “u” in all of my stories (I did it on purpose, you know!)
This year I learned to play paddle, ran the length of the National Mall, attended a White House press briefing. I learned how to lug a camera bag and a tripod, in heels, up stairs, in the rain while carrying an umbrella. I ate deep-dish pizza and hated it; I ate shrimp gumbo and loved it.
I tried to take advantage of every opportunity, no matter how trivial it seemed at the time. Over a seemingly mundane school trip to Strasburg, Va., 15 of us were kidnapped by ex-British special forces and forced to walk blindfolded into the woods. It was awesome.
America, you have a very special way of honoUring your dead and celebrating your heroes. No matter how many times I passed the Lincoln Memorial on my nightly jog I couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer size and grandeur of the monument. I didn’t think that a simple plaque at Arlington National Cemetery would take my breath away, but JFK’s gravesite was equal parts heartbreaking and moving.
Your monochrome money may make it hard to distinguish ones from tens, and your incessant need to mock my accent might get a little annoying (okay, a lot annoying), but America, you have been wonderful hosts and I am truly grateful for the year I have spent south of the 49th parallel.
See you soon (if your delightful border guards let me back in),
Heather
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Heather Wright graduates in December with a master’s degree in broadcast journalism from Medill.