My best friend in my office is a 57 year-old Hawaiian woman with a huge heart and a hearty laugh. She and I have tons of conversations about life and the way to live and the hot topics of the day. We chat about Detroit and the future of the city and we chat about politics. We even dabble in the spiritual realm sometimes, but our opinions differ and we don't ever wish to offend each other.
My friend has a loud voice that carries and she talks a lot. Usually she makes sense and has a point, but sometimes her message is lost. I always listen patiently and massage the message because usually she always has an important message to say.
A lot of people in the office think she talks too much and spends too much time with appointments. I think she speaks when she has something to say and is by far the best person in our office when it comes to forming relationships with students and staff. No other counselor is requested nearly as often as she is.
We had dinner on Friday night at the Green Dot Stables in Corktown, a place known for their sliders and truffle fries. It was crowded and the night was snowy, but we had a great time chatting about life, as we always do. Today she told me about how she told our co-worker about the restaurant. Our co-worker had never heard of the place and my friend said, "If you want to know anything about downtown, you need to talk to David."
This statement was profound to me. It wasn't shocking, by any means. I pride myself on getting involved with Detroit and knowing the city. But, I think back to when I wrote the title of this blog: Lost in the Suburbs.
The title was very intentional. When I started this blog I had recently moved to Dearborn unsure of myself, unsure of my place, unsure of my future and figuratively and literally lost. I had gained so much confidence and millennial pride after having a great college experience only to have my confidence shattered over a year of unemployment and living at home. While friends ventured off to grad school or AmeriCorps or full-fledged jobs in full-fledged cities I was stuck in Kalamazoo and Hillsdale and everywhere but where I wanted to go.
I searched aimlessly for a job in higher education or adventure education or politics and government only to find that rejection emails and letters were polite and in most cases it was standard to never hear from a place at all. My confidence was shaken. Was I good enough to make it? Did I do enough in college to prove worthy? Was I just a big fish in a small pond?
When I arrived in Dearborn I was wounded. I had finally landed a job, but I quickly realized that entry level paychecks don't go as far as we would like. I vowed to live a simple life, but still desired to have a cool apartment and new gadgets and a nice car. And worst of all, I was stuck in Detroit, a place that seemed to have perpetual gloom and depression hanging throughout every undefined suburb.
It was in this moment of misery that I started this blog. Mostly I wanted to prove to my friends that Detroit had something going for it; my friends who seemingly had it all in exotic locations like Chicago and St. Louis. I was stuck in a city that people didn't want to be in, that people didn't want to visit, that people didn't want to care about and I was stuck in a place that I fell into because I needed a job. I constantly remind myself that at one time in life I wanted a graduate degree in higher education.
After having been involved in college with organizations with built in friendships, I found that breaking into a city like Detroit is a hard thing to do. When you're the youngest person in your office and mistakenly identified as a student constantly at your place of work, it became hard to find friendships. If the office is filled with people you can't relate to and the community is filled with students I should maintain a professional distance from, what am I to do?
And I worked furiously to maintain relationships with my friends from college who now lived all over the country. I even put their names on a map on my wall so that I knew where I could go to escape my imprisonment.
One day when I was reading my blog I realized that it was incredibly depressing. Things were never cheery or funny, just constant complaints about how rotten things were. And it was at that moment that I decided I needed a new topic to write about. I determined that I should discover the city I was living in. I should write about places I discovered, good or bad, and work to find the character of this city. As I said earlier, I was determined to prove to my friends that my life was cool too.
As I started this project, I started by sharing experiences at attractions and restaurants. I decided to take alternative routes to get places, just to explore the roads. I liked to drive to new neighborhoods to see if things were really as bad as they say. I worked to find the closest locations for things like movies and pizza and tried to find my favorite bars. I talked to people in these places and scoured blogs for tips on where to go in the city. And slowly, I discovered there were cool things happening.
When my attitude started to change about Detroit I recognized that I needed to make a few things happen. First, I removed everyone's name from my map. The names only caused anxiety in me as I felt that I should be somewhere else or doing something else or that someone, somewhere was having more fun than I was. Second, I deleted my facebook. I was completely exhausted with trying to maintain a profile and I found I was always watching to see where people were that I was not. Third, I embraced the city I was in. I recognized that I was on my own, living in my own place, never having to fear about where my next meal was coming from and with plenty of cash to explore the city.
Through all of this I discovered things about myself that I only now have the chance to reflect upon. I discovered that I am in fact okay with being alone. I like myself enough that I have a good time being a bit naive and exploratory and talking to strangers. I found that when I waited for friends to do things, they often cancelled or didn't want to do the things I wanted to or took weeks to respond. I was wasting so much time when I could have been out doing things on my own.
I discovered that I enjoy Detroit and I enjoy simplicity. A fancy apartment does not give me happiness. New gadgets do not give me happiness. A new car does not give me happiness. I am happy when I discover something new. I am happy when I talk to someone about deep subjects. I am happy when I can sit and enjoy the peace of a warm summer day.
As this transpired I began to understand my place. For too long I spent time pining for the past, wishing things could go back to the way they were. And even if I wasn't wishing for the old days, I was still holding on to old friendships and memories that were long gone.
I realized that I had no vision for my future. I was not always thrilled about my job or my apartment or Detroit, but I had no alternate vision. I wasn't sure what I wanted. As quoted from "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland:"
“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"
"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to."
"I don't much care where –"
"Then it doesn't matter which way you go.”
I understood from this experience that I was exactly where I needed to be and that I needed to let go. I needed to let things happen and experience things. I needed to find what motivated me and what I liked. And ultimately I found that I was excited by Detroit. I was excited by progress. I was excited by potential in leaders and in neighborhoods and in people. It drove me to envision a future for myself. It is a vision that is constantly changing, mostly because it isn't here yet. Yet I now have a drive and can both be reminded of the past, appreciate my present, and prepare for the future.
While I have no plans for changing the title, I can, at this time question, whether I am still truly lost in the suburbs.
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