When I was in my 20s, I had a column in a local mag about how much I loved the Detroit area and suggested ways Michigan could “retain young talent”. Hat tip to my publisher, Jeff, who was kind enough to take me seriously when I pitched him on what little ‘ole Ann Arbor could learn from Barcelona. OK, Millenial. Needless to say, I was craving new environs and went to San Francisco for a big job opportunity.
And it turned out that, even though I was born and raised around Detroit and will defend that city to the death (DETROIT VS. EVERYBODY, Resurget Cineribus, WHAT UP, DOE? Bad Boys 4 Life), the West Coast is where I would grow up. Like every 20-something, I was searching for something bigger and hadn’t found my way just yet.
And when I had found my way, after 7 years in the SF Bay Area and a career-changing journey in Nairobi, it brought me to my truth and my love, and she brought me back to Northern Michigan.
Before moving to Interlochen, I’d never lived anywhere rural. I brought my assumptions of what we would and would not find here. A suburban kid by upbringing, the only time I felt drawn to the countryside was for adventure, relaxation, or to get back to the familiar grounds of my great aunt’s property in Empire. And now, our time in Northern Michigan is coming to a close. As we say goodbye to the people that have made it a very special 2 years back in our home state, I began to reflect on some of the things I’ve learned here:
Small towns make it easier to plug in - I figured it would take awhile to get to know the place and settle in, but when you’re in a small town, there are ample opportunities to get involved quickly. I joined a board, was invited to write freelance articles for a local mag, met other nonprofit consultants, and got to know the owners at our favorite distillery like family. And I was definitely that girl who introduced people to each other only for them to say, “Uh, yeah, I’ve known Barb since my kids were 4 yrs old in her Sunday school class and our husbands are on a curling team together.” Roots run deep.
Photo Credit: Michael Kent Photography
When all you have is community, community matters A LOT - I didn’t know how it would feel to be queer in a rural area and I definitely had my guard up (and kept it up in some instances, in the way all queer folx do, for safety). But the LGBTQ+ chosen family (and allies) that we found here look out for each other in deep and meaningful ways. We organized when transphobic demonstrators came to our neck of the woods, we celebrated with 6,000 people from all over the state the fact that we are here, alive and out in this time and place, and each time we came together, I felt more seen and connected.
That thing that Margaret Mead says is TRUE, y’all - You know the one that starts, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world…” Northern Michigan has a way of leaning on each other and solving problems together that I haven’t seen other places. The nonprofit sector here is small but mighty and doing the work to build resilient communities. Doing this in an area without the wealth and resources of a major metropolitan area makes for some creative solutions. Of course, it’s never perfect, which leads me to…
No place is a monolith. We moved here right after the 2016 election when our hearts were heavy and feeling in some way that, maybe by coming home and challenging mindsets, we’d be doing some good. White supremacy rears its ugly head everywhere and the responses to it have not been much different on the West Coast compared to a place that is 93 percent white. We’re all confronting our biases from our own lived experience and we all need to do better. Being raised on a dairy farm doesn’t make you ignorant to the broader world and growing up in Berkeley doesn’t make you woke from the jump.
Hygge, hygge, hygge! - A good friend told me that the way to get through winters here was to just let the seasons take you where they will. That means things are quiet in the winter and it’s time for puzzles and tea and cross-country skiing and the fall is for reflection and apple cider, and the summer is crazyfuntime at the lake every day that lasts forever, but just let the season be the season. I’ll miss that.
So, to everyone who has made this place what it is, thank you for your kindness, the laughs, and looking out for our family.