Last summer, I really hated Michigan. After returning from living in Northern California for nine months, my hometown of St. Clair Shores seemed like a prison of concrete and consumerism. The only thing I could seem to focus on was how much I missed things in California: My friends, San Joaquin School, my girlfriend, the redwoods,
AJ’s bar, etc.
I found solace in a small patch of woods behind
Fishbones restaurant on 9 mile and Jefferson. I would walk my dog,
Dugan, everyday through a ¼ mile patch of overgrown weeds to a hidden patch of trees. I immediately began work on a shelter of sticks, duff, and twigs in the middle of the hidden patch.
With a group of 20 kids in California I could create a shelter in about 45 minutes. In
SCS, it took me two months. As the summer proved more and more difficult, it was working on the shelter that kept me sane. The world outside the hidden patch sucked: No one in
SCS would hire me. My former health insurance was refusing to pay for a trip to the hospital in Chicago when a car hit me. I
couldn’t get a loan for NYU because I owed $2,000 to a Chicago hospital.
I started the shelter with a large branch that looked like a “Y” and rested it on a large straight branch. Then, I combed the hidden patch for more branches, which served as the ribs of the shelter.
Dugan kept taking the branches and running off with them. He was a pain, but I was happy in my work.
Eventually, we grabbed (well, mostly me) a bunch of twigs for the lattice over the ribs. That part took a really long time because I was used to having a whole redwood forest to provide materials, but the hidden patch only gave me 15 or so trees.
It was during phase 3 of the shelter that my life in Michigan started looking up. First, my former employer, Brogan & Partners Convergence Marketing, rehired me for a fifth time. Then, I was able to prove to the insurance company that I was hit by a car while I had health insurance. Lastly, I got my loan to attend NYU.
During the final phase of the shelter, putting duff above the lattice,
Dugan had nothing to bite so we were able to enjoy each other’s company. I finished the shelter in the first week of August. I even created a little sitting area inside to dream of the future, and the past.
After my first semester at NYU, I took
Dugan for a walk at our old spot through the howling December winds and falling snow. Arriving at the hidden patch, I was distraught.
Someone had taken a bulldozer through the patch, knocking over trees, plants, and our shelter. All that was left was a muddy, frozen patch of dirt and four trees.
* * *
A few weeks ago, I returned home to St. Clair Shores after nearly two months in West Africa. After seeing much of the worst of what human beings had to offer, from both American college students and Ghanaians, I was thrilled to be home.
I looked at the place I had resented so much since I first left it in 2005 with new eyes. The people were so friendly. The food was good. My family was, slightly, normal. And
SCS, the Detroit suburb on the shores of Lake St. Clair, was beautiful.
The waters from our canal rested peacefully (except for when
Dugan would jump in them), the sun and bright blue sky sent my heart soaring, and massive
midwestern thunderstorms were gorgeous in their fury.
Aside from working on two stories that were way past due, I spent my two weeks at home constructing a trail through the weeds to the hidden patch. I began dragging old logs from, what I believe to be, the remnants of our shelter up through the weeds. Placing the sticks side-by-side, we cut a path through weeds so overgrown that it seemed no one had even breathed on them since the spring.
The trail is now, in my opinion, pretty swell. If any Michiganders come across this blog, here are instructions: Enter the weeds at the very end of the
Fishbones parking lot where there should be two 2X4's guiding the way. Walk about 15 paces until you see a collection of sticks tied together by weeds (see picture below) and turn right. The rest of the path has sticks at least every 6-8 feet. It will lead you directly to the hidden patch.
I didn't travel much while I was home, but that was fine by me. I was able to get take out from my two favorite Detroit restaurants, Buddy's Pizza and National
Coney Island. I spent some time in the western suburbs chasing a story that I started work on in Ghana (more on this later).
As I pack my things for New York, I can't help but think I'm leaving something behind. Although, I'm reminded of what one Ghanaian said in an interview to a friend of mine: "Sometimes your destiny is not in your own country." I think for me, and many of my
NMU friends, our destinies are off in different states. But, that doesn't mean I can't still love my home.
I ♥ Michigan
