Why Choose Idaho?

By Katarina Hockema

I could tell the voice was targeting me. It singled me out from a sea of wandering eyes, unsure glances and excited yet nervous body language among the posters, booths, and recruiters at my high school in Homer, Alaska. Polite yet determined, it echoed throughout the gymnasium, eager to be heard over the clamor and chaos of dozens of high school juniors trying to figure out where their futures were taking them. “Excuse me,” the man called out, “would you be interested in learning more about our campus in Moscow?” I turned and locked eyes with a smartly-dressed gentleman, and after a short yet sweet pitch-turned-conversation, I accepted a pamphlet that would serve as the golden ticket to the next chapter of my life.

I grew up in a community of just a few thousand people, in the Cosmic Hamlet by the Sea—our affectionate nickname for Homer, the halibut fishing capital of the world. On the tip of a peninsula, Homer’s gray-sand beaches, crush-and-tumble Kachemak Bay waves, and Sitka spruce trees made up the building blocks of my childhood and adolescence, but I knew there was more to see. More to explore. More to discover beyond the quaint coastal hamlet I had called home for as long as I could remember.

What better way to set out on this journey, I thought, than by selecting a new town where I could get a degree? Several places caught my interest. There was the safety and familiarity of Anchorage, home to one of the University of Alaska campuses and a half day’s drive from Homer. Pacific Lutheran University in Tacoma, Washington, had inner city appeal. Southern Oregon University in Ashland was an eccentric hub for art and expression. The University of Montana in Missoula was close to several family members and boasted a nationally acclaimed journalism program, which was the field of study I decided to pursue. Then there was the University of Idaho, a gorgeous campus in the lively town of Moscow, nestled in the Panhandle of a state I’d never set foot in before.

Of all of the places I visited as candidates for my adventure, Moscow caught my attention the most, in more ways than one. I made the 2,675-mile jump there in 2019.  Whenever people ask, “Why Idaho?” I tell them, “I loved every school I toured more than the last, but I didn’t love University of Montana as much as I loved University of Idaho.”

University of Idaho newspaper staff in the author's day. Katarina Hockema.

The campus in Moscow. Katarina Hockema.

Another campus view. Katarina Hockema.

Downtown Moscow. Paul Sableman, CC-by-2.0.

Katarina on graduation day. Courtesy of Katarina Hockema.

The author poses for a novelty photo. Courtesy of Katarina Hockema.

The Idaho Palouse. Charmar, CC-by-2.0.

That’s true, but whenever I have the time and if those who ask have the interest, I don’t hesitate to add that the Palouse stole my heart from the moment I first visited. It set my young adulthood awash in golden, rolling plains of wheat, towering emerald pines, and the tranquil peace of the Palouse’s quiet mountains and camouflaged creeks. Such a setting was the perfect stage for my pilgrimage of education to a place aptly described by the name of a local nonprofit: the Heart of the Arts.

Despite my desire to put roots down somewhere new and different, I still yearned for the connection to nature and strong sense of community I had in Homer, and I immediately found it in the Palouse. This was not only because of its views and outdoor recreational opportunities, but because Moscow felt like a welcoming home away from home—especially to a young woman who had quite literally no connections upon her cross-region move. Even beyond the stretches of UI’s campus, friendly people and the stories they possessed were immediately noticeable.

Joining UI’s student newspaper, The Argonaut, as a sophomore allowed me a great way to dig deeper into Moscow’s identity. As a LIFE (lifestyle, interests, features, and entertainment) reporter, I had the joy of talking to people who wanted to, no, jumped at the opportunity to share their stories of involvement in the creative and practical arts, community events, and town traditions.

As I wrote profiles of local characters and small businesses that defined the community, Moscow came to life before my eyes. It was an intricate picture of a community puzzled together by blossoming young professionals, boomerang returnees to the golden plains from the Northwest and beyond, stable individuals in the shops and other businesses, and creative people in all media who had found their muse in the Gem State.

The mutual respect between the broader community and the revolving door of Vandals over the years is evident. To me, Moscow is not just a college town but an intertwined heart that beats for every person in the community. It fosters support for new students, provides a haven for those finding their place, and holds out an open hand for alums, travelers, adventurers, and settlers.

I graduated in 2023 and then did a year of post-grad work. By mid-2024, a set of choices made itself clear to me. I could stay in Moscow. I could return to Homer. I could relocate to Spokane or to somewhere in Oregon. Or I could move to Boise, exchanging the Palouse for the Treasure Valley.

While I love Moscow, I knew that after five years it was time to move on to a new adventure and change of scenery away from the comfort zone I had established. Homer will always be my hometown. It holds a special place in my heart in the Last Frontier, but it didn’t align with my career goals. Plus I’m a firm believer that you can always go back home, while you’ll never know what you might be missing until you take that leap to find out.

Spokane and Oregon were tempting and exciting ideas, but with a limited knowledge of the job market there and the looming milestone of moving in with my boyfriend, I knew it was in my best interests to go where we would have a support system—somewhere novel yet familiar. That somewhere was Boise. I felt sure it could feel like home there just as Moscow had felt, because it would be enriched with family connections and with new opportunities that I couldn’t wait to learn more about. Schooling in Moscow had planted a seed of love in my soul for Idaho, and the allure of rolling river rapids, bustling city opportunities, and the Greenbelt made that seed blossom into an obvious choice.

I don’t yet know the whole story of my life but I know that these early chapters in the Gem State have left a legacy of happiness, which I believe will only grow stronger with time. As the Idaho state motto has it, Esto Perpetua. Let it be perpetual.