Hope in the D

(Excerpt from March 2011)

Hope. Sometimes, no matter what circumstance you may be facing in life, it is the one thing you can always hold onto. Hope to get that A in your Orgo class, that acceptance letter from Harvard Med or Yale Law, hope for that dream job offer, hope for a love that lasts forever, hope your family can make it through financial troubles, hope that maybe one day there will be peace, a cure for cancer, no more violence or hate, even hope your favorite sports team brings home the Cup this year (let’s be serious, my essay wouldn’t be complete without an immediate Wings reference). We have all had times in our lives where all we could do was hope...

About 2 years ago I wrote an essay on pride in Detroit, pride in a city that was suffering: the fall of the Big Three, a corrupt mayor sent to jail, losses for every single sports team in the city, and a bad reputation in the minds of those not from here. But nonetheless pride in all my city stands for. I write to you once again from a Starbucks, this time in Northville. Yes, after my 4 years of debauchery in Boston and a bit of trouble-making in San Diego along the way, I am home again. I think Mitch Albom put it best when he said “Maybe because when our kids finish college and we see them back home, we ask what happened, and they say ‘I missed my friends and family.’ And we nod and say we understand.” 

Hope is defined as belief in a positive outcome. Well, that is what I have for Detroit, what this album stands for, hope. Hope that, over time, the city can gradually evolve into what it once was, to be as bright and vibrant as any other major American city. But what makes this situation different from other events in our lives where all we can do is hope? This time we have the ability  to do more, to work together to revive the city. Yes, I still have hope, but I also have the determination to save a city with so much potential.

My father grew up in one of the worst neighborhoods in downtown Detroit so, with him as my chauffeur while taking most of these pictures, I was able to see all aspects of my favorite city. I saw the beauty of the RenCen, the energy at Wings games, the delicious food that restaurants downtown offer, the bright lights that line Greektown, the strength depicted in Joe Louis' fist and in the Spirit, and the sense of genuine interest at the Auto Show. But then there was the erie silence in the neighborhoods, the desertion at the old train station, the sadness of a group of men gathered around a trash can fire to stay warm, and the emptiness around the outside of a city that was once full of life, life in a city the size of San Francisco, Boston, and Manhattan combined. And that is where hope comes into play. Hope to bring life and light back to the D. Whether through a new central line of transportation, urban farming, new restaurants, new shops, an improved Hart Plaza, more attractions along our waterfront, improved schools, less crime, or even another Eminem concert (I'd personally really enjoy that), it's going to be the little steps that save our city. These little steps, and always a sense of hope.

I titled the album Light in a Dark City, and I believe the picture below best shows that. Taken in the Historical District of Detroit on a very cold January afternoon, I had a hard time getting a good shot of the cobblestone streets and old 19th century houses. Why? There was some sort of big, bright thing in the sky. If you’re from Michigan, you know it’s not very often we see sunlight in the winter months; and if we do, it catches us off guard. But on that particular day, the sun was shining on Detroit, as bright as I had seen it in more months than I’d like to remember. No, it may not be some dramatic sign from the heavens of God looking down on the D, but you know what? For this instance, I’ll say it was. There is light in our dark city; you just have to wait for it, look for it, and embrace it.

So what’s next on my list of life adventures? Law school, that’s what, somewhere in Michigan naturally. Why law? Wasn't I pre-med for forever? Eh, no med school for this one, gonna get that JD. And do what with it? Save the city of Detroit, of course. Some laugh a little when I tell them this, but you should always pursue what you are most passionate about in life (plus, let's be serious, I can’t be a huge bum at the golf course for forever). Well, I’m passionate about Detroit; therefore, my hope is to help save our city, to make a positive impact on it, to rebuild it.

Now hopefully (there I go with that theme of mine again), the next time I write to you, I’ll be happily sitting in the Starbucks on Woodward Ave, watching families, friends, businessmen, and visitors from all over walk Detroit’s streets, embracing all the city has to offer. And I have hope that sometime in my life, whether 1 year, 5 years, 10 years down the road, that will happen. And I’ll be there when it does. So until then, always stay Detroit strong my friends.

Modesty in the D

(Excerpt from June 2009)


Pride. 
Sometimes this proves to be something that is, and I quote, hard to swallow. Some have too much of it, some should have more of it. And yet, some silently hold this feeling, not boasting it, not flaunting it, simply knowing its there and those around you knowing they hold the same feelings inside. A smile and a nod to passersby.

Detroit. Most dangerous city in the country. Unemployment. Weather similar to an arctic tundra. Our mayor sent to jail. The fall of the Big 3. A defeated NFL team. A basketball team which fell apart from the poorly chosen trade of our point guard. A young Big Ten football team who struggled this season, their worst record in years. A Big Ten basketball team who fought hard to the final game, defeated. And lastly, a hockey team. A team that stands for much of the pride the city holds. Defeated, at the very end, and I mean the very end, of the playoffs. Why have pride in a place like this? A state like this?
I don’t write many of these. Alright, this is the first one. Who inspired me? A past teacher of mine (for you Schusterbauer, cheers). He writes many of these. I read them, some touch me, some make me laugh, and some make me realize more things in my own life, in his life. Well, here’s my note. I’m no English major, quite the opposite in fact, all that science and business nonsense. A beautifully written cell bio book? Hardly. My papers are lab reports. But let’s give a city that some say is dying some love. You can never have enough of it.

First, I take you back a few days. 11:00 pm, Friday June 12th. 
Don’t talk to me. Go away. Leave me alone. I need some time to myself. And shut the door on your way out.
I don’t take sports losses well. These were things I said to anyone who came up to me that night as I held the last of my rather strong drink in my hand, calling and texting my fellow downtrodden Wings fans back home. While on the phone with one of them, namely my good friend Casey, we became speechless. What was there to say? She hears a cheering Penguins fan in our common room making her own calls to her friends. The difference? They are celebrating. I’m in my bedroom. Did that really happen? Is it over? Take a deep breath, try to accept it because the series is done, the cup has a new home, a very upsetting thought to me. And yet, did I take my Zetterberg jersey and Made in Detroit jacket off after the game when we went out? Absolutely not. Why? 
Pride.

I wouldn’t be able to write this without mention of our Red Wings. A team that I, along with so many others I know, put their heart into it. I’ve learned to try and accept that for most major Detroit sports games, I’m not in Detroit for them. Therefore, fans are hard to come by. In this case, we actually managed to get a sports bar in California to put the game on, even put the sound on. An accomplishment for the underdog. Oh, the Lakers game is on now. Sound off. Defeated. My Pittsburgh roommate and I walk in for Game 6, looking like something straight out of a commercial. Red Wings jersey walking in with a Penguins jersey. The most cliché thing would have been if she had dropped something and I would graciously pick it up for her. The bartender proceeds to go, not you crazy hockey fans again. Find hockey pride annoying do you? Don’t come to my city. 
Now to be more specific for everyone, I write this to you from San Diego at my new local Starbucks, a familiar place for me. I’m here for two months. Not long right? Well, maybe for some. It gets difficult being away from a place you love each year. I go to school in Boston. I’m home a total of two months this whole year. Some may say, well, you’re not really living in Michigan anymore are you? Quite the opposite. I am as much a Michigander now as I have ever been. I see a U of M shirt, I yell Go Blue. State shirt? Sparty on. Wings, Pistons, Tigers, and, yes, even Lions gear. Same thing. Don’t Stop Believin’ comes on? I’ll be the one screaming about south Detroit. Put your hands up for Detroit? I’ll be the one dancing all over the place. Some get annoyed at my love for my home state. Yes, I’ll show you where I’m from on my hand. I’m in London, there are Gran Torino ads in the Tube. My day was just made. So people have asked, can you calm down? Why are you so obsessed? Why are you so attached? 
Pride.

I’ve lived on the east coast, I am now getting a taste of the west coast. Midwest, you’re for me. The weather’s terrible there. There’s nothing to do. Your sports teams are falling apart. Your economy is pathetic. Where are you going to get a job? Isn’t it all farmland? Why would you ever live there?
Pride.

Family. Close friends. Love for all Detroit sports. Lakes. The peaceful falling snow in the winter. The drive up US-23 along the tree lined highway, up north a short 4 hours away. Telling people I live off 8 Mile. Yes, the 8 Mile. Teeing off at golf tournaments, “Next on the tee from Michigan..” And immediately a smile comes on my face before I walk up to the tee box. Chatting with rangers and starters at my golf courses. Dinners at the local favorites. The little things that make home home.
Twice a year is the 12 hour road trip to and from Boston. I’ll tell you, that drive home, much faster than the drive there. We leave when the sun comes up and as the sun begins to set, I know we’re close. All of a sudden, we’re on I-75. I see the sign in the distance, Welcome to Michigan. As we pass it, I’d love to just start yelling, and if you know me, I can be quite loud. But that’s a little embarrassing, possibly unnecessary, so I simply smile. Great Lakes, Great Times. Yes, I’m still cheering on the inside.
This year in particular I was so excited to get back home. Nothing against Boston, it’s a great city, I’ve met so many great people at school. But there’s something about being home. It’s refreshing. Pretend like you’ve been underwater for much too long, you tense up, all you want is that deep breath of fresh air. That’s what home is. A breath of fresh air. Nothing else like it. My parents knew I was so happy to come home. Yet, the next day, my Dad points out that I didn’t seem happy. Why? I was home, just like I wanted. Well, I was leaving in two weeks, that’s why. Then parents will be parents and say, that’s growing up. Work at the golf course all summer? Yes please. But then there was the internship offer. Other side of the country. Couldn’t pass it up. Yet even 3000 miles away, I have more love for home than ever. Why?
Pride.

Some of my closest friends are scattered across the country at different schools. We’ve got the east coast, west coast, and Midwest covered. And yet, what brings us back together is home. You can’t trade that for anything in the world. Michiganders stick together. 
You seem upset, what’s wrong? I miss home. And they are the ones that understand. Nothing needs to be said, simply an “I know.”
And then there are those others I encounter, the ones I always seem to find that have hate for Detroit. I have my Tayshaun jersey on, my friend Alex has her Pistons shirt on, an old man says to us, ‘boo Detroit.’ Another says, the east coast is great, the west coast is great, everything else doesn’t have to exist. And still more continue to comment. All your unemployed fans did was waste money to see your cup taken away from you on your own ice. Your city is pathetic. Your gas is more expensive because you’re a peninsula obviously. You’re from Michigan? I’m sorry. Your dad works for GM? Ha, that sucks. And finally the simple, straight to the point, ‘ew, Detroit.’ To all of you that have said these things or similar comments, I say to you, leave us alone. I feel bad for you because never will you know how to truly love where you’re from. We’ve got thick skin (and don’t put in some clever little smart ass joke about having thick skin against all the gun shots that Detroit sees everyday, we’re not amused). To be from a place struggling as we are, and still love it for what it is, what is that my friends?
Pride.

Living away from home, in a different state, different part of the country, or even for those that go abroad, a different part of the world, this opens your eyes to appreciate where you’re from. Boston, you’re a lot of fun, a great city. I’ve made some amazing friends there. San Diego, your weather and your beaches are beautiful. And yet, Michigan, no one seems to top you. Something stands out. Something holds you apart from everyone else. 
I have one year left for undergrad. A scary thought if you ask me. Where will I be in a year? In 5 years? In 10 years? I have absolutely no idea. Where will my friends be? I couldn’t tell you. But where might you ask will my pride be? What will I always hold closest to my heart? What will always make me smile? Well that’s Detroit. Someway, somehow, yes, I will most likely find my way back there. You can argue with me but we have the best values. We’re the nicest people you’ll ever meet. And you know what, we’re the hardest workers you’ll meet. Maybe by that time the Big 3 will be big again. Maybe Detroit will be picturesque and no longer win award for most dangerous city. Maybe the Lions will win the Superbowl. Maybe…and maybe not. Well, I don’t really care either way, I’ll find my way back. And why? You probably know.
Pride.

Now I’m a sucker for lyrics. Expanding my iTunes library is one of my favorite things to do. So I say to you that your people are the people from home. Michiganders, you’re my people. Home to me is reality. Detroit, you’re as real as real can be.
Maybe this turned into my best attempt at a Mitch Albom-esque note, that’s fine with me. I love his articles. So I’ll end with a quote from my personal favorite of his.
‘They say your teams are a disgrace, and your city is dying. They say you are the past and will never win again. And yet, you are from Detroit and there is strength in that.’
Maybe some of you think I’m being a little excessive with my love for home. Maybe you think I wasted my time writing this. And maybe not many will even read it. Well, I don’t really care because maybe, just maybe, my note, like some others I have read before, touched you.
So to my Michiganders, I send my love from the west coast. Keep the pride for our city going. I’ll be staying Detroit strong, wherever I go and wherever I end up.