10 Things I Learned in California
In 1999, Baz Luhrmann produced a spoken word recording of a supposed graduation address (often mistakenly attributed to Kurt Vonnegut) that was actually a June 1997 column by Chicago Tribune writer Mary Schmich. The "song" was hugely popular among a number of folks in my generation, who conveniently were graduating from college right around that time. The words in the "song," called "Everybody's Free.
.. to Wear Sunscreen," advised us to always wear sunscreen, dance, remember the compliments we receive, and never read beauty magazines ("They will only make you feel ugly") among other sometimes cliched, often sentimental, and occasionally bizarre words of wisdom.
One line of that song advises: Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
I've lived in New York City for three and a half years, but last week I had my first ever trip to the west coast. When I found out this summer that I would be presenting a paper at the National Reading Convention in Los Angeles, I knew I needed to capitalize on this trip and extend it to see my dear old friend Betsy and Northern California (NorCal, in typical 21st century perpetual abbreviation).
In a six day whirlwind of sight-seeing and soul-searching I experienced places and things that I'd only heard about and seen on TV, and I truly did consider it an educational journey. Some things I learned..
.
1. I go to a really good school.
As someone who didn't actually take my school education seriously until college, I am often amazed at how far I've come since my C-student days of skipping class. The conference, though a beneficial experience, made it abundantly clear that I am getting a graduate education that is far superior to a lot of other universities. My colleagues and I found ourselves exchanging looks and notes marveling at others' presentations of "new" and "progressive" theory and practice that is old-hat for us.
I'm not sure what this says about literacy or education on a national scale (and I could say so much more about that, as I often do) but our boredom was a sure sign that we, at least, are doing great things.
2. I am still a car person.
I take the subway every day to work. I would never drive from Brooklyn to the upper west side unless it were some kind of inter-borough medical emergency. But when my friend and L.
A. native Steph told us that her friend was driving 5 minutes to meet us for dinner so that he would have his car with him, I understood. (I've also seen L.
A. Story so I know how it is in L.A.
) Even in San Francisco, while the buses and BART were great, it was really nice to climb into the car and drive through the parts of town we didn't have time to amble through. When driving and parking aren't enormous pains in the ass like in New York, I still prefer the freedom and convenience of being self-propelled. I don't think it's the same for people who have lived here all their lives, but I think other transplants probably experience a similar ignition itch every so often.
3. I have learned a lot since I lived in Buffalo.
One great part of attending the conference was having a chance to reconnect with a professor that I met during my masters program at UB.
She was the first person to tell me that I was really "cut out" for graduate work and that I should consider pursuing a doctoral degree. She remembered me and was pleased to catch up with me, and I think we will keep in touch. The whole experience really brought home for me how much I've learned since my Buffalo experience, as a pre-service teacher, as a person who was really just figuring out who she was.
If you'd told me then that in 5 years I'd be doing what I'm doing now...
I'd probably have spilled my drink.
4. Somehow I still have a feeling, deep in my rational, aethist heart, that fate brings people together.
Many of you know the story of how I found my roommate/boyfriend on Craigslist and that the only reason I was moving and breaking my lease three months early was because my dog was attacked by pitbulls. A combination of bizarre events that led, improbably, to running face first into what seems to be the love of my life. Coincidence, maybe.
But while in L.A. I had the wonderful opportunity to get to know a colleague that I've been only briefly acquainted with for several months, Tiffany, who had decided the week before the conference to come with us.
We arrived at the hotel only to find that my room reservation had been lost, and I ended up crashing in a room with her and Steph. We hit it off instantly- one of those times when you feel like you've known someone forever..
. cliche, cliche. Anyway, on our last night in L.
A. we somehow (not even sure exactly how it all happened - there was a pitcher of margaritas involved) deduced that she had considered moving in with Jay before I did. But oh, there's more.
She didn't even find him as a roommate prospect on Craigslist, like normal New Yorkers do, but in fact was cyber-introduced to him by her exboyfriend's sister, who is Jay's exgirlfriend. Tiffany, from Kansas City, and Jay, from Queens, happened to once upon a time date siblings, and now I happen to be going to school with Tiffany and living with Jay only because my dog got mauled and because she didn't act quickly enough to snag the apartment out from under my feet. I mean.
.. really.
5. I am too clumsy to drink red wine.
Enough said.
6. My attitude is much more San Francisco than New York.
People in San Francisco are really happy.
And it shows. They smile. They talk to you.
They look genuinely happy to be serving you coffee, holding a door for you, or giving you directions for the train. I think that a lot of people in New York are happy, too, but somehow afraid to show it. It's like we all walk around in some sort of self-protective suit of isolation.
You see it break down once in awhile. When you're on the train, and you bump into someone on accident and they give you that typical half-annoyed, half-blase Manhattan look..
. but then, if you apologize and smile, they almost always turn into normal people and smile back and maybe even talk to you. I don't know why that isn't on the outside here, but I know that's what Mary Schmich was talking about in her column regarding the "hardness" of New York and the "softness" of Northern California.
When it comes down to it, I'm more soft than hard. I've toughened up my shell since I moved here, that's for certain, but there's more of NorCal in me than there is NYC. It makes me wonder if Mary was right, if it's just a matter of time.
.. or if I can somehow maintain my status a non-New Yorklike New Yorker.
7. I am too late for Haight-Ashbury.
My mother talks about what the Haight was like in 1968.
My own days of tie-dyed yore harken back only to the early and mid90s, when road trips and camping out at Phish shows was a way of life. But now it seems that the hippies are a dwindling phenomenon. Some people said after Jerry Garcia died his followers jumped onto the Phish bandwagon so they'd have something to do.
Now, in the years since that final tour, it seems that hippie culture has taken a fatal blow. I knew they weren't in New York, at least not in New York City. But San Francisco!
Haight-Ashbury! If hippie culture is alive anywhere, I thought, surely it's there. But alas.
.. the Haight looked an awful lot like the East Village, just cleaner and slightly more upscale.
It's more punk than flowerchild, and more memorabilia than paraphenalia. Instead of a neighborhood that has maintained its soul, it seems more like a caricature, a historical landmark: "Once, Things Happened Here." The small pack of 19ish dreadlock-wearing, banjo playing kids who sat on the sidewalk eating street food with their dogs looked totally out of place, and almost like a sad joke.
Don't get me wrong, we were still offered "bud" by a random guy on a bike, there were plenty of long, grey-haired dudes walking around in Birkenstocks, and I bought myself a new nose ring at one of the many tattoo/piercing parlors that still line the street. But that Summer of Love experience I was hoping for..
. dust in the wind.
8.
Don't ever fly American Airlines.
More will follow..
. when I post my irate complaint letter, yet to be written.
9.
There are other places in this country that I could live besides New York.
Boston was always my one-item list. Recently I added Philadelphia.
I can now officially add San Francisco. It's good to feel that there are people like me, and life that I understand, outside of my NYC bubble. But the truth is.
..
10.
...
I don't think I want to live anywhere else.
I will admit I came home slightly conflicted. A whole bunch of happy people, in city where you can totally have a car AND use public transportation?
In a state that cares so much about your health and the environment that they post ridiculous signs warning about chemicals and drowning? And UC Berkeley really would be my second runner up in the contest of Supreme Graduate Schools of Education.
But the truth is, I love New York.
It's not perfect. It doesn't pretend to be, either. We know we're angry and rude.
We know we move too fast and work too hard. But there's a contrast built into my life that I love. Every night, after walking blocks all day long, carrying my stupidly heavy bag, fighting my way through the mobs of commuters trying to get on the A train during rush hour, I get to come above ground in my quiet Brooklyn world.
I can take my dog to the park and see fireflies and fallen leaves. I can walk a few blocks to my favorite corner restaurant, which is always cozy but where I've never waited for a table. I think that balance, the yin and yang of New York City life, is what can keep us from becoming permanently hard.
Am I saying I'd never take a post-doc position at UC Berkeley and try my hand at the west coast for a few years? Not necessarily. But when it comes to calling someplace home, my dream is rooted in days spent fighting for NYC kids and teachers in all the glitz and noise that is this city, and then returning to my very own Brooklyn brownstone, wood-burning stove, tiny backyard.
A big part of this, I know, is because Mary Schmich also advised all of us graduates to "Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young." I may have shrunken my mental differentiation between east and west coast with this trip, but the bottom line is that my family, my friends..
. they're here. This is home.
