Days Around Detroit
After college, I dreamed of moving out of Michigan. I envisioned myself strutting down the streets of New York or living ‘la vie boheme’ on the beaches of California. So when years passed and I was still living in my shared duplex apartment in downtown Detroit, I felt like an absolute failure.
As someone with artistic dreams who grew up in the northern suburbs, moving to Detroit felt like a prison sentence. Detroit wasn’t the place you ran off to discover yourself or find inspiration–it was the bounce pad that got you to those places.
Friends and family came and went. What was supposed to be a brief stint in corporate turned into a solidified career path. One year turned into three and any opportunity I had to leave never panned out. I felt anchored to a city I did not love and for a while, that stifled my creative vision and perception of myself.
It wasn’t until I was driving to work one morning, just north of Grand Boulevard, that I saw a mural that read ‘From the Ashes, We Rise Again,” that I realized Detroit was where I was meant to be.
Detroit was a city forgotten, neglected, and abused by most of the nation when it had been a strong source of economic and creative ingenuity. Although it was home to the booming 20s, Motown, the automotive industry, and many historical buildings and events – it was only spoken about for it’s negative aspects. Completely defined by its worst period of life.
By 23 I was already condemned to the mistakes I had made. A young girl who was shaped by years of emotional, physical, and mental abuse was no longer known for her affinity for reading, her curious mind, and her compassionate heart. I was someone who had a lot of potential but squandered it due to deep insecurities and pain created by the neglect and abuse in my life. Seeing that quote made me realize I too was defined by the darkest period of my life and because of that, no other city would accept me. Although I rejected it, Detroit was the only one that did and because of its acceptance – I too began to rise again.
And so the remainder of my 20s was dedicated to that; to re-learning and healing. To truly see myself and remember who I was before the darkness. The girl who spent summers exploring the libraries and riding the people mover for fun. The girl who sold candy outside her grandmother’s house on the Eastside of Detroit and passed out business cards for her ‘Crazy Kids’ venture. The girl who lost her way, but still had a home to return to. Detroit helped me access a piece of myself I thought was forever gone and showed me that I could be a source of light and inspiration in the world.
Detroit was a haven for me to heal and provided me with different opportunities and communities to begin to grow and flourish as an artist, a professional, and most importantly, as a human. All it asked was that I looked around and truly started seeing it for what it was.
Because how can you move forward if you do not find a way to love, or at the very least accept, where you’ve come from?
Detroit is a place that welcomes everyone, especially those with heavy hearts. Gritty, raw, with a modest beauty–it’s a city that welcomes you with open arms and accepts you for exactly who you are. It doesn’t ask much of you except that you be authentic and that you share that with the people around you.
I started to see everything differently, but especially Detroit. I frequently bike or walk around it for inspiration and each time I do, I challenge myself to see it a little more clearly. These images are my attempt at that.
