My hands shake as I type his name into the search bar, then the name of my town. His obituary is the first result. I click on the link and the pale face of a fifty-something year old man with red hair identical to my own stares back, smiling.

Here, 126 miles away from home, I am eighteen years old and anyone who I want to be. I am not “his daughter.” I am not a “poor thing” or a “could you imagine?” or an “I had no idea.” I raise my hand in a class of 500 kids and no one knows my story.

I’m half-grateful, half-lonely.

I pretend I’m studying chemistry. I type his name. The name of my town. Click. Leaving my town meant leaving my history. I had a countdown on my calendar. I had my bags packed a month before I left. His name. My town. Click.

Now I’m here, I’m finally out. Everyone asks if I miss my parents, if they are coming for family weekend. I never correct them. I sidestep his death like it’s a puddle on my way to class. It’s nothing. Name. Town. Click.

I am with all the normal city kids. The ones with still-together parents. Still-alive dads. I pretend I am one of them. I go to class, I join clubs, I make friends. I’m finally out of my town. I am finally someone else.

Name. Town. Click.

But not really.

Evie West

Biography: Hi, my name is Evie! I love to run, and my favorite authors are John Green and Sarah Dessen. If I could be anywhere right now, I would be right here at Oregon State.

Artist Statement: To me, roots mean family and background. I grew up in a smallish town in Oregon, and in 2021, my father committed suicide. While I know I am not defined by my family, I sometimes still feel tangled up in familial roots that connect me to my dad and to my town. “Small town gossip” is a reflection of my concern of how I thought people might view me if I shared my past with them.