OTF 11: Its The Firenze We Make Along the Way
Ciao UCEAP friends! My name is Morgan Edward Timberlake III, but I go by Trey. I am three weeks post my study abroad in Florence, Italy. The breakup has been hard and tears have been shed. I have spent the better part of the last month living out of my suitcase as I visit friends in Madrid, Berlin and Paris. Now, I find myself in the charming Copenhagen, visiting my best friend until I must return to my hometown, Palm Springs, California. As I attempt to elongate my abroad, and ignore the emails regarding my flight home, I continue to return to one sentiment: Studying abroad was the most transformative experience of my life; I pushed myself outside of my comfort zone, conquered my feelings of otherness, and forged important cultural connections—proving to myself that the world truly is my oyster (and a delicious one at that)!
For context, I am a rising senior at the University of California Berkeley. I chose to study in Florence as I was looking to connect with my own heritage and I had a sickly obsession with Luca Guadagnino’s queer Italian film, Call Me By Your Name. Being a gay man, I knew that living with straight men while in Florence was going to be a new experience for me. Childhood feelings of isolation and otherness had developed over the years into a pseudo-fear of masculinity that had closed me off to male friendships and to a lot of the world. Florence would be a chance for me to overcome these deep rooted feelings of otherness, and connect with new perspectives. Plus, I had realized that a majority of my feelings came from internal insecurity, and that my view of straight men was derived from subjective prejudices.
Now that the background is established, I fast forward to my last week abroad. After living with five straight men for four months, I had successfully crumbled my fear of masculinity and had, to my surprise, developed very intimate male friendships. My newfound ability to unabashedly be myself while surrounded by masculinity was incredibly liberating. I had found reconnection with my boyhood and had made major progress in healing my inner child. As my time in Florence neared its end, I found myself punched in the gut by grief. The people I had grown to love, and the knowledge I had gained from immersing myself in a culture vastly different than my own felt momentous; how could I say thank you? How could I show this city and my Florence family all that this had meant? I decided to write a speech. Three hours later, and with the promise of my world famous three-ingredient pasta, thirteen of us were gathered in my living room. My heart pounded like a cannon as I stood up and stepped to the center of the room, standing in front of the boys I now called “my brothers” and all the people who had made this experience so transformative. I took a deep breath and began:
“Three nights ago, after dropping my mom off at the airport, I found myself wandering the streets of Florence. As I took in the air, I kept returning to something my mom had said, ‘Thank you for sharing Florence with me.’
‘Wow,’ I thought, ‘when did this city allow me to go from stranger to confidant?’ My heart glowed. To share with my mom the knowledge and intimate relationship I had gained with Florence made me feel adult and capable in a new way. Florence allowed my mom and I the space to expand in our relationship as I took on the role of educator, and her the student; I the child, and now the friend. I felt strong and invigorated, as if with each deep breath Florence was making me taller.
I leave this experience born anew. Since my very first clack on the cobblestone it has been a non stop exploration of the world and myself. From my presentation on Donatello’s David as queer art, to learning all about the intricacies of the NBA, I have found so much happiness here. Within this natural will to live, love, and discover, I am taken back to something I read in Tuesdays with Morrie, by Mitch Albom, aptly, a book given to me by my brothers. As Morrie stares into the eyes of death, he asks his pupil, ‘Are you living as human as you can?’ (Albom 19)
In Florence I have been more human than ever before. I have felt uncomfortable and scared as I bring my date back to the apartment to meet my roommates or as I stand in a skirt for a photoshoot in the middle of the city. I’ve been sad, anxious, sick, frustrated, confused and exhausted as I battle the ever present feeling of ‘I’m not doing this, and why didn’t I go here, and how can I not speak any Italian even though I’ve been studying it for three months?” Yet, without fail,, joy, love and youth conquer these feelings as David conquers Goliath, and as will and heart overcome strength and brawn. I have loved being here, in the presence of such new perspectives, more than I ever thought I would.
I’ve loved this apartment. I’ve loved dressing up my brothers for the opera as our cheeks turn rosy from a glass (or two) of wine. I’ve loved watching the superbowl and laughing in a space I’ve always felt excluded from. I’ve loved learning that men can be kind and tender, insightful and funny. I’ve loved doing photoshoots and podcasts with you all—discovering that art is the ultimate conductor of connection. I’ve loved playing cards and introducing my friends to new friends and becoming friends with your friends. I’ve loved sitting in this room, laughing about our late nights out and our youthful shenanigans. I’ve loved being challenged to confront my comfortability and perspectives as I debate Lady Gaga and Post Malone and realize that perhaps I do love just throwing a ball around. I’ve loved growing close to the men of my apartment, luxuriating in the openness that has allowed me to love you all and you all to love me. I’ve loved dancing until the birds start their song and then running down the street to our apartment because we are young and we are free and we can.
More than anything, even more than Italy’s cookies and their spicy nut mix (I had quite the reputation as a snacker), I will miss the home we have created together. I know these relationships and the knowledge we’ve gained will continue as we close this chapter, yet, I also know nothing will feel as special as being here—in the glow of our laughter and Florence’s moon. How human it has been to show myself to the city, and to all of you.
When we sit at the end of the ultimate journey and we look back on who we were and what we did, all we will have is the love in our hearts and the people we shared it with. Thank you for letting me share.
To live is to love. I’ll never forget how we lived.”
I looked up to see girls crying and boys sniffling. It felt as though the world had come to a halt to let us share one perfect moment.
If you are hesitant about studying abroad, I (and this speech) implore you to take the leap of faith—you never know what treasure awaits! Lastly, as I close this, and my abroad out, I want to ask
Are you living as human as you can?
