Rethinking "Once a City Girl, Always a City Girl"

On reflecting back on my experience this summer it is no exaggeration to say that my perspective has changed. However, in some ways it is unfair to say that my three months in Colorado made me change my perspective in entirety because I owe this also to my experience in London where I studied abroad for five months. Both of these experiences together have changed not only the way I look at life but also the way I view my place in society. Because this journal and internship paper is solely dedicated to my experience this summer in Rocky Mountain National Park I will be focusing on how this experience has given me a new perspective, but I felt it necessary to point out the importance of my attitudes shifts prior to this experience.

            First and foremost it is important to discuss where I am from. I grew up in New York City where I had few encounters with the Wilderness and the natural beauty of the western part of our country. As a city kid I learned quickly that the playground was my wide-open expanse and a venue where I would come to exercise. I knew that there were larger places where people could go and exercise, play, and relax but I had not seen these places with my own eyes. Visits to Central Park were also revered and I had assumed this type of park was the biggest and most natural park out there. When I was around 10 years old my friend’s father took me to a place somewhere in Long Island. I don’t remember exactly where it was in relationship to my house, but I know for a fact that it wasn’t in the island of Manhattan. This place was amazing to me, being that I still have a vivid image of it in my mind. I remember large, green rolling hills with three leaf clovers and the smell of honeysuckles in the air. I remember playing Frisbee and not having to worry about having my Frisbee go out of bounds or being run over by a passing neighborhood car. This place felt like an environmental utopia for me.

            From this description it is obvious to see that I had a natural inclination to nature and wide-open expanses of land. However my life as a city kid did not allow me to experience much of the countries open landscapes. I had gone to the Grand Canyon as a child and I had seen the deserts of California. I had gone to Lake Powell, and Glen Canyon and seen some of the beautiful canyons that southern Utah and New Mexico had to offer. However, these places were vacation spots, places I visited once every three to four years. They were still foreign to me and still thought of as distant lands far from my life. I never though I would be able to spend an entire summer in a place similar to those I just mentioned.

            Previous to this summer I believed that anything that wasn’t New York, that wasn’t my home was subpar. How could anything ever compare to New York City, I thought to myself. Isn’t it the capital of the U.S., well really the capital of the world? I knew that I would miss the energy of the city, the bustling activity, the opportunity for shopping, the opportunity to do anything I could think of (with of course the exception of most outdoor sports). The interesting and curious thing is, that I did feel this way for the majority of the summer, as evidence from my blog entries. I was counting down the days until my return to the East Coast. But as a bus driver who I came to know very well described to me on my first day on the job, the place changed me. Dana, the bus driver who I saw almost every day, became a close friend of mine. We had discussions about anything from Colorado, to music, to religion. Dana grew up in Pennsylvania and spent the majority of her life on the East Coast in and around cities. She described to me how she had a compulsion to move out west. She felt claustrophobic and needed more space. I thought she was a bit off when I first talked with her, but her words rang true to me now that I am back in the daily grind of East Coast living. Suddenly I realized that I no longer anticipate the bustling sounds of the city, nor the energy, rather I miss the peace and quite and serenity of the mountains. To some this may seem like an obvious choice, however to me it came as a total shock. I always defended the cities sights, sounds, and constant energy. I defended the dirty subways, the dirty street corners, and the somewhat brash attitude of its members. But I no longer feel the same loyalty to my home as I once did. I have a burning desire to move out west as soon as possible and while I am still on the East Coast I want to hike and do as many outdoor sports as I possibly can.

            I can’t pinpoint why or when this change happened but I can only say that I no longer feel like I want to live in a city for the rest of my life. I want to be around mountains, I want to be around places to hike, I want to be as close to the earth as possible. Does that make me reject where I came from? I hope it doesn’t. I have a special place in my heart for cities and it feels natural to be in them, but I have come to love the mountains.