I'm from Kalamazoo, Michigan. Yes, there really is a Kalamazoo. It's the city of the "Kalamazoo Promise," a scholarship program that gives free in-state tuition to any student who graduates. However, I didn't go to Kalamazoo schools-- I went to Portage schools. They were less rough. They had fewer fistfights and drug busts. Kalamazoo is home to Bell's Brewery. I've heard great things about the beer, but I'm not yet 21 so I can't yet legally comment. I can say, however, that their kids' portion of mac-and-cheese is damn delicious.
I had a countdown going on my phone alllllll through my senior year of high school. The countdown was named "Let's get out of this bullshit city hell yesssss!!!!!!" It ticked towards the evening I'd walk across the stage of Miller Auditorium and receive my diploma. I did not account for the long, sticky-humid summer that would separate me from graduation night and the early morning where my family and I drove a packed pickup truck to Ann Arbor. That summer was the longest summer of my life, and I couldn't help but wish for a big tornado to eat Kalamazoo and send me to Ann Arbor a couple weeks early.
So, to the hometown I wished away so viciously, I have a few things I'd just like to say. First: the apologies.
1. I'm sorry I wasn't curious.
You're a cool city with a cool history. You have some of the best restaurants in the country. You have tiny parks with overgrown paths. You have old crumbling neighborhoods with sketchy corner stores. The only reason I bitched to my mom so often that "oh my god, Mom, there is nothing to do in this friggin' city" was because I was too lazy to investigate anything further away in radius than the damn Celebration Cinema.
2. I'm sorry I wasn't quite old enough.
"Yeah, Kalamazoo in college is freaking sweeeeet!" -- Every college-age friend of mine who goes to Kalamazoo College or Western University. You can drink at Bell's, you can make giant Den pops, you can roam around the student ghetto either looking for fun or a used record shop. I wish I could've been a little bit older when I absorbed Kalamazoo for the first time.
3. I'm sorry I was such a dick.
Perhaps I wasn't unhappy because of where I was, but rather, what I was. I was, at times, a rather unhappy teenager, and that was 100% my fault. Instead of trying to better myself when I was feeling down, I fantasized to where life would take me, painting Kalamazoo as world's biggest oppressor, and me as the prisoner who was hoping to hop a ship to Ann Arbor. Now I realize, that simply wasn't so. I'm a lot happier now because I opted to work on myself instead of wallowing in self-pity when life didn't go my way. Regardless of geographical location, when you're feeling shitty, what's going to make you feel un-shitty is you, not your coordinates on the map.
And, now, the joys!
4. Thank you for having one hell of a marathon course.
The Kalamazoo Marathon kicked my butt, no two ways about it. The course, which is shaded and nice for the first half, and blistering-hot and uphill the second half, made me want to run directly into the side of a bus. But, the pride I felt upon finishing the race was incredible, and left me clamoring to feel that way again. So, naturally, I signed up for the next one!
5. Thank you for the music.
Being a member of the Kalamazoo Junior Symphony Orchestra was an absolutely incredible experience. (I mean, c'mon, what youth orchestra do you know of that gets to casually play "The Planets"?) I made friendships there that I'm sure will last a lifetime. Also, getting to hang around WMU's music school and take lessons and see what life as a music major was really like was truly fundamental in my career path. Seeing the happiness and pride my older friends took in their music got me really jazzed (PUN ALERT) about being a music major. Plus, getting to take lessons with WMU's horn professor really gave me the kick in the pants I needed to fully immerse myself in that music major lifestyle.
6. Thank you for being so stable.
Kalamazoo is home to my wonderful parents and my younger sister, my childhood friends, and The Campus Roadhouse, a restaurant with historically dank fried pickles. Kalamazoo is that place I look forward to returning to when the semester starts to grind my head into a nub. Kalamazoo has my childhood home with my childhood room. Kalamazoo is where we adopted our endearing (and batshit crazy) rescue dog. It helped me grow into the woman I am today, and I look forward to showing that funky midwestern city just how far she's come, how far she has still to go, and how hyped she gets when it's finally "time to head back to Kalamazoo!"
