By: Shelly Nahama Edited by: Bonnie Azoulay Photography by: Jacqueline Baum
An Exodus leaves a land to be deserted and I, have been one of the few spared from the horrors of boredom. The Modern Exodus, when everyone packs up their bags and fills up their cars to move back to Brooklyn, was a completely different experience this year. I partook in the deserting this past year and left behind the deserted.
For many, my hometown is sweet in theory and a taste of it in the warmest season is more than enough. By late August there is a resounding sigh of relief to, "get back to normal life," however stressful it is to pack up your houses into your cars and drive an hour to Brooklyn.
Growing up in Deal, this day was a communal celebration of having our streets restored to "normal," parking in front of the store you're going to and freedom to leave your house in pajamas without fear of judgment. On the day of this past Exodus, I cheated on my own identity. My first opportunity to leave the nest, ah sweet college, and flock behind enemy lines. I couldn't wait to experience Brooklyn and the city, have a nightlife, and pursue my dreams. As they say, every journey begins with a single step, and this journey began with getting in that car. My cousin Frieda picked me up, and when I got in, I closed the car door without looking back. Ah, but the grass is sweeter behind enemy lines...where you can find grass.