Mindful Iterations

I’m not a marketer by strict definition. While in the past I have spent time working in SEO as a Project Manager, I am, by definition, a geek.

I started off in the IT industry back in 1997, when I answered my first AT&T WorldNet (remember dial-up?) tech support call. “Thank you for calling AT&T WorldNet technical support. My name is Samantha. May I have your name and the telephone number you registered with please?”

Since then, I’ve held so many roles in IT, that I’m a bit of a jack of all trades; a technical generalist, if you will. My current role is that of software engineer. However, in my day to day work, I’m lucky enough to come in contact with many high profile brands. That’s not a responsibility I take lightly.

Maybe I’m a freak, but when I did technical support, I felt a strong sense of responsibility to my callers. They were entrusting me with caring, over the phone, for their several-thousand dollar machines. While there were times I didn’t quite feel like fixing broken Internets, helping customers backup several years of data, or walking through my 40th software install in a day, that’s what I did. Not just because it was my job, but because these people trusted me. They trusted me to guide them down the proper path. They trusted me to do what was best for them.

Fourteen years later, I still feel that sense of responsibility when it comes to clients. They are entrusting me with their brand. That’s a much larger scale than an Internet connection, a software suite, or a few thousand dollar computer. Their brand is bigger than a logo, slogan, or jingle. Their brand is their livelihood. It’s their reputation. It is responsible for feeding hundreds, sometimes thousands of families. Maybe that’s why I’m a bit of a perfectionist. I don’t like rushing through things. I like taking my time and making sure things are done right.

In a way, I’m a steward of my client’s brand. If I make a glaring mistake on Client X’s project, hundreds, thousands, or even millions of people aren’t going to know that Samantha made a boo-boo. But, it may very likely reflect on Client X’s brand. It opens the door for Client X’s prospective customer to ask themselves, “Jeez – if Client X can’t manage this, how are they going to handle my insert random customer need here?” I’m not okay with that.

So, to the brands I’m fortunate enough to work with, I say thank you.

You have entrusted me with your brand. That’s a pretty big deal. I understand that your brand is bigger than a logo, jingle, or slogan. Your brand is your livelihood. It’s your reputation. It’s responsible for feeding hundreds, maybe even thousands of families. If I make a mistake, it doesn’t reflect on me – it reflects on you. That’s a pretty big deal. Thank you.

A week and a half ago, I went home to California for the first time in over seven years. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel, having been gone for now what is 1/5 of my life. I haven’t been back to Southern California since my 20′s. I wasn’t sure what I’d find.

I spent weeks stressing out about the flight (I’m not a fan of flying). I wondered if I’d want to move back to the land of the ocean and mountains, or as others call it, the land of the fruits, nuts, and flakes. I wondered if I’d see any of my friends. And, I wondered if I’d still feel the closeness with my friends, some of whom I’ve known since I was 14 years old.

I’m still processing the trip. Truth be told, it was quite emotional. I saw my mom for the first time since January, 2009. I saw several friends, and just as I had hoped, it was like no time had passed. The only signs of aging were a couple of lines on all of our faces, but the connection was there and aside from getting bigger hugs, it was like I had just seen them all yesterday.

Examining the Emptiness

Upon my return to the Mitten (the state I now call home), there was a sense of emptiness. While my philosophical views maintain that emptiness is part of the human condition, it’s not always comfortable. I believe that part of this life’s challenge is learning how to become comfortable in the uncomfortable, and remain “okay” even in the face of a lingering emptiness. But, being that I’m somewhat of a thinker, and I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t, I had to examine the emptiness before moving on.

By examining what I was feeling, I realized something is missing in my life. While I have incredibly close Friends (upper case F friends and lower case f friends are different), the majority of them live in other places. While they’re always a phone call away, the several thousand mile distance renders it impossible to call them and ask to meet for coffee in half an hour, or drive to their house on a moment’s notice. These people are more than casual acquaintances; we know each other at our core.

I Like Authenticity

I have a few Friendships like this with people in the Metro Detroit area, but since I’ve only been here for a few years, the history isn’t the same. Trust and loyalty takes time to build. Additionally, the people I have met in the D have been people I’ve met through work or social media. The people with whom I’ve connected I’ve mostly seen at social media gatherings. Add in the fact that social media relationships have an interesting business-mixed-with-pleasure dynamic, and it can be hard to ascertain who is real and who is just marketing themselves as real. In the age of the personal brand, taking the brand out of the personal can be an uncommon occurrence.

Since my return to Michigan, I haven’t been on Twitter as much as I usually am. When I’m in a reflective state, I find it difficult to hang out on Twitter. I don’t know if it’s because I’m clearly a more-than-140 character kind of a person, or if it’s just too difficult to engage and connect on the level that I want (and need).

I’m also taking some time to learn from the self-examination that came from my trip and making an effort to connect and engage with some people who have stuck out in my mind as really extraordinarily genuine people. I do my best to see the good in all people and recognize where everyone shines, but sometimes people just strike you as “real”.

And, to be fair, I’m also making sure that I’m being authentic and real, too. In this digital age, it’s easy to lose oneself in the timeline of life.

Walk Through Discomfort

I’ll admit that I’m relatively uncomfortable putting this out there. But again, I have to walk through the discomfort and be true to myself.

Earlier today, my partner blogged about doing, instead of trying. She and I have often conversed about my need for things to be perfect.

A few months ago, a friend of mine featured some open letters on her blog. I really liked the format, and I’ve decided I’m going to borrow it. She’s been nagging me to write, so I’m sure she won’t mind.

Dear Perfect,

We’ve been dancing around this for months, years, decades. You show up in your high heels and your fancy pants. That’s right, I said fancy pants. You’ve lured me in one too many times – stroking my face tenderly, only to disappear right when I thought you were in my reach.

I don’t know why it’s taken me so long, but I’ve finally realized something – you’re unattainable. And you know what? I’m okay with that. Why? Because, I don’t want you anymore. It just isn’t working out. I’d say that it’s not you, it’s me, but that wouldn’t be fair to you or me. Why? Because, it isn’t me. It’s you.

You’ve whispered sweet nothings into my ear, “it’s almost good enough. You can’t finish yet. You can’t ship. It has to be… perfect.” Well, guess what – I am finished. And, I am shipping – I’m shipping you – right out the door.

And, just to show you that I’m serious? I’m not going to be their when your trying to get back into my life. That’s right – I misspelled their and your. Are you loosing your mind yet?

This isn’t meant to be mean-spirited. This isn’t easy for me. It’s hard to end a relationship that has defined the core of who you are for so very long. But, I have to. If I wish to live a life of courage and authenticity, I need to live a life without you.

So, hit the road, Perfect. And, don’t you come back (no more, no more).

Love,

Samantha

The old saying goes April showers bring May flowers, but in addition to bringing those bee-attracting things I refuse to have near any entrances to my house, it also brings the NFL Draft. Those of us who are Lions fans often consider this grand event to be our Super Bowl; it’s the one day when Lions fans have something they usually lose by the middle of football season: hope.

One would think that the chants and boos often heard at the NFL Draft is indicative of football – a bunch of loud obnoxious meatheads yelling about guys who will run around in tight pants, while throwing and catching the ol’ pigskin.

But tonight, as I started watching the NFL Draft, and saw the reaction of Von Miller as he was chosen by the Denver Broncos, I realized that the NFL Draft isn’t just about getting a stud for your team (c’mon, I know that’s the biggest thing), it’s also a a chance to watch people’s dreams come true.

I know, I know, leave it to a girl to totally emasculate the hardy manly rough and tough game of football. What can I say? I have estrogen. But, stick with me for a moment.

As children, most of us are taught that we can become anything we want to be. Some of us want to be lawyers, some of us want to be doctors, and some of us want to be football players. Quite often, those dreams do not materialize and we find ourselves in jobs that we may or may not like. We turn our back on our dreams, or decide that we’ll follow them come the ever elusive someday.

So, forgive me if I get a little choked up and sentimental when I get the opportunity to see someone’s face light up when they follow their dream and they realize – their dream has come true. It’s that hope realized that gives us the ability to tell our children to reach for the stars. It’s that hope realized that gives us a little push to do something we’ve always dreamed of.

Seeing other people achieve their dreams is inspiring. Not only do we get to be happy for the person, but we also get to realize that dreams do sometimes come true. With hard work and dedication, we can transform a dream into reality.

So, I challenge you – the next time someone’s name is called in the NFL Draft, take a look at their face and really take a look. See their reaction, their emotion, their joy. Take wonder in the privilege of seeing their dream come true. And then, ask yourself how you can make your dreams a reality.

Oh, and Go Lions!

I’m working from home today so I can sign for my MacBook Pro. My honey contributed to my MacBook fund as an early birthday present. My birthday is in August, so it’s a very early birthday present. It’s my first Mac and I’m very giddy and excited.

It’s no secret to anyone who knows me, that I love technological toys. But, this isn’t just any technological toy – it’s a MacBook Pro! As a consumer, I find it interesting to see just how marketing works and how Apple has it down.

“My Mac will make me a better programmer.”
“My Mac will make me more productive.”
“My Mac will make my computing life easier.”

These are the stories the marketing genius of Apple wants me to believe. I know logically that my productivity and skill are solely in my hands. But, there’s a still an excited 34-year old kid who keeps looking out the window for the Fed-Ex truck to arrive because she’s just a little curious as to whether the myth and the magic is true; even a little bit.

Stepping back even further, the other strong marketing message surrounding Macs is that they just work the way you want them to. This is a message echoed by most Mac owners. No wonder Apple has such success! How often is it that you have a company’s marketing message line up with their consumers’ mouths?

The PC image we’ve been sold is clunky and not so elegant. As a friend of mine explained, a Mac is a nice car that gets you places without fuss. A PC with Linux (the OS I use when on a PC) requires that you spend nights in the garage under the hood. That statement lines up with Apple’s marketing message. And again, how rare is that? When the mouth of the consumer carries the message of the brand? I mean, how often do you hear people say, “Wow, that’s some mighty high quality Angus beef,” about a fast food burger? You don’t. Or, at least I don’t.

But, I digress as that can be a whole other post. In the meantime, I think I’ll just keep peeking my head up here and there, looking out the window for that Fed-Ex truck to arrive.

It’ll be interesting to see whether or not I become a better or more productive programmer. If so, maybe it’ll be because I enjoy using the new system. It’ll also be interesting to see if I become vehicle for the message of the Mac.

What are some of your favorite marketing stories?

Some of you may have noticed I recently changed my theme from a dark background with light text, to one with a light background and dark text. I just updated my theme this morning, and it looked a bit janky. So, I’ve reverted back to my old dark background theme.

If you’re thinking, “Gosh, that really sucks. It’s so much easier for me to read dark text on a light background,” I’d like to personally invite you to subscribe to Mindful Iterations’ RSS feed.

If RSS isn’t your thing, have no fear – I’ll bring back a more readable dark on light theme soon.

In the meantime, I’d love to hear your preference; do you prefer reading dark text on a light background, or light text on a dark background?

For those who know me and are familiar with the programming side of my life, they know I’m a relatively opinionated person. When it comes to writing software, I believe in doing things the “right” way. As a general rule I don’t believe in copying and pasting code, nor do I believe in a rush-it-out-the-door coding practice or mentality.

I believe you can either pay for something in the front end by putting in the time and thought for a quality product, or pay for it in the back end by fixing bugs and potentially alienating customers. My philosophy is that I’d rather spend the time and thought to do it “right” up front than pay for my mistakes later on down the road.

After all, if I’m paying for it in the back end, not only am I going to spend extra time on something that I could be using for new work, I’m also running the risk of forgetting what I originally did. Even worse, I’m running the risk of giving my customer a bad experience with faulty software. If something isn’t written right and gives my customer or their customers difficulty, they’re going to automatically have a bad taste in their mouth as their first impression, no matter how forgiving they may be.

When I am faced with a situation where I need to copy and paste code, I feel the need to fully understand what the code is doing. By copying and pasting code I run the risk of copying and pasting bugs (or shall we say interesting features?) into other areas or products. I can’t explain how much that bothers me. Anytime I’ve Ctrl-C’ed Ctrl-V’ed code, a little part of my soul has died.

If I absolutely have to copy and paste code, I’m going to type it out by hand, and then use a diff tool such as vimdiff to compare the two versions. At least if I retype code, I’m getting a better understanding of what the code does than if I’m blindly moving snippet A to text editor window B. I don’t like doing things blindly.

Unfortunately, my propensity for “doing things right” isn’t always the quickest route from point A to point B. Sometimes I find myself in that dreaded state of analysis paralysis. I enjoy the process of drawing my program designs on a whiteboard or a piece of graph paper. However, I also enjoy finding the holes or problems in my thinking; finding the reasons why something won’t work, which then gives me the opportunity to find a better way to do “it” – whatever “it” is.

What can I say – I’m in love with the edge case. I find people rarely think of the edge case, when maybe we should think about the edge case a little more often. It’s the edge case who is going to find a way to hack the system and expose a huge security flaw. It’s the edge case who is going to find that your software does what they’ve needed all along and then tell all their friends and coworkers about how your software saved them time and money when nothing else did. I’m a champion of the edge case. Why? Because the edge case almost always provokes a more thoughtful design. It’s true – you can’t make everyone happy all of the time, but if you can make a couple more people happy, the rewards can be great.

But what do you do when you have a hard deadline and you need to ship your software in a timely manner? When do you risk throwing the baby out with the bathwater because dammit, something has to ship? For at least the last ten years I’ve had a joke or quote about myself:

“I’m not obsessive; I’m just thorough.”

I don’t remember when or why I came up with it, but it’s stuck with me throughout the years because it’s true. Quality and detail are two things I’m passionate about.

The longer I’ve been programming, the more I’m learning that there isn’t necessarily one right way, leaving all others to be wrong ways. The more I do this, the more I see that there are different shades of right and wrong for different circumstances.

If I have 15 days to launch a product and there’s no way to reset client expectations, I’m going to do the best I can with what I’ve got, but I’ll also do my best to learn something for the future. Whether that’s an efficiency to be found in coding, or that I need to readjust the way I handle client expectations, I’m going to learn something. And hopefully next time, I can veer closer to “right”. To paraphrase my partner, sometimes good enough is good enough; the trick is in finding the balance.

I’ve looked at this post for at least fifteen minutes now, trying to figure out how to make it better and contemplating edge cases. Remember, I’m not obsessive; I’m just thorough. I think I’ll take a risk and hit publish. Hopefully my post doesn’t have any bugs.

Somehow the entirety of 2010 went by without me making one single blog post. Quite honestly, I haven’t felt as though I’ve had a ton to say. Judging by my twitter updates, one would probably argue that I have plenty to say, but a lot of my tweets are purely conversational. And maybe that’s something to blog about in and of itself – shouldn’t a blog post be the beginning of, or at least part of a conversation? (Now, next time I don’t feel like I have something to write about, I do. Ha! I love how that works!)

2010 brought a lot of awesome to my life. I had the opportunity to attend a couple of conferences, specifically TEDxDetroit, and 140conf Detroit. By attending those two conferences, I was blessed with the opportunity to expand my mind, drink from the fountain of inspiration, and meet some really awesome people. My partner and I also got involved with Photowalks Detroit, and in doing so, met more awesome people.

Obviously, from that last paragraph, meeting awesome people was part of what made 2010 so, well… awesome. It wasn’t the only thing – my partner and I celebrated seven (1-2-3-4-5-6-7) years together, we became more settled in our area (having moved into the Detroit area from Traverse City in 2008), among other things. But, people were definitely a big part of the awesome-equation. This is the way it should be – I can have all the cool gadgets, gizmos, and thingies I want, and while those may be fun (believe me – I <3 gadgets), I'm more likely to have memories of laughter with my friends and family than memories of beating someone in Words with Friends on my iPhone.

But, I digress. I fully expect 2011 to exceed the awesome-level of 2010. My emphasis will be on a few things, all of which I plan on blogging about in separate posts, including:

• Embracing curiosity and denying fear
• Living my life with passion and purpose.
• Making sure the people in my life know how much they mean to me.

I hope your 2011 is filled with everything I hope for myself:

I hope it’s filled with awesome. I hope you connect with people who make an impact in your life, who challenge you, and who make you laugh. I hope you face your fears and laugh at yourself. I hope you question yourself and strive to be the best you possible. I also hope you are gentle with yourself and remember that you’re only human, allowing yourself to make mistakes. And now that I have somehow gotten the song, “I Hope You Dance,” stuck in my head, I hope you can somehow figure out how to get rid of it.

Happy 2011.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about why I love Detroit. A few days ago, my partner and I were discussing our beloved Detroit sports teams. I happened to mention that I missed our Boys of Summer – the Detroit Tigers. And then the memory hit me.

You know that feeling deep in your gut? The one that surfaces when you think about someone or something you love so much? And you know that smile you get on your face when you think of the first moment you felt love for that someone or something? Sure you do.

So, come with me, if you will, on a trip down Memory Lane.

Our trip begins on October 14, 2006, in Downtown Detroit, right around the corner of Witherell and Adams. We had driven downstate from our home in Traverse City, Michigan to see a Tiger game. It was my very first Tiger game. Ever. It was game 4 of the ALCS (American League Championship Series) between the Oakland Athletics and the Detroit Tigers. My partner was excited because there was the possibility of the Tigers sweeping Oakland and heading to the World Series. While that was pretty exciting, I was just stoked to be at my first Tiger game.

The game didn’t start out so great. The A’s started out ahead. The first five innings were in their favor. Inning number six, Magglio Ordonez tied it up. Much gum chewing ensued. There was a feeling of magic in the ballpark that night. That feeling exploded when in the bottom of the ninth inning, with two outs on the scoreboard, Magglio Ordonez hit a three-run walk-off homer, sending the crowd into elated pandemonium and our Boys of Summer to the World Series.

There ain’t no party like a Detroit party…

I am convinced that the amount of energy in Comerica Park that night was enough to light up every household on Planet Earth for about 24 hours straight.

The rest of the night is somewhat of a blur. As we all left the stadium and poured out onto the streets of Downtown Detroit, I felt something I had never felt in the entirety of my then-30 years alive, and have yet to feel again.

The city was electric. Strangers with only one thing for certain in common, their love of the Detroit Tigers, embraced on the streets. Homeless man with high-brow executive. Crack-addict with crazed baseball fan. City-dweller with suburb-dweller. It made no difference. That night, I gave countless high-fives and hugs to random strangers.

For a night, I wasn’t afraid of walking the streets of Detroit. For a night, the potential of this great city peeked out through a cold autumn evening. This night, October 14, 2006, was the night I fell in love with the Detroit Tigers. But more importantly, this was the night I fell in love with the City of Detroit.

Almost two years later, in October of 2008, I relocated from the Traverse City region of Michigan to the Detroit Metro area. Being a city-girl at heart, (although some might say a suburb-girl), I was looking forward to once again living in civilization. Although, I must confess – after living in Traverse City for 4 ½ years, the prospect of living in the city again, let alone close to one with the reputation that Detroit has, was a little intimidating.

But, I was already smitten. I had already fallen in love. I already knew the potential of Detroit. I knew what she was capable of. Sure, she had some rough edges, but I knew deep down inside, underneath the gruff exterior, that heart of rust was really a heart of gold.

Since moving to Michigan in 2004, I’ve heard my share of anti-Detroit propaganda. When looking for employment in the Detroit Metro back in 2008, I had a recruiter tell me he didn’t like placing women for positions in Downtown Detroit because he worried about what could happen to them if their car broke down on the freeway while traveling through a rough area. I’ve had people tell me their almost-carjacked stories. And, as much as I hate to admit it, I have taken quite a bit of these stories to heart. Being unfamiliar with a place can leave one, especially one who’s directionally challenged, feeling quite uncomfortable. Especially when they hear horror stories.

But, all those horror stores aside, I still remain smitten. I still believe that Detroit, at its heart, is full of people who just want their Boys of Summer to make it to the World Series and win; people who just want to see the Detroit Lions make it to a winning record (although, I think at this stage of the game, we‘d settle for 4-12!).

As I sit in this coffee shop on a sunny autumn Sunday morning in my Lions jersey, I reek with optimism. Maybe it’s because I’ve felt the hugs and I’ve high-fived the hands of Detroiters. I know what they, what we’re capable of. Maybe it’s because I’m a transplant, lacking the decades of baggage that go hand-in-hand with the past 42 years of Detroit‘s decline.

Maybe I’m naïve, but somehow I know deep in my gut that one day we won’t be one of the most racially segregated big cities in the country. One day the neighborhoods full of old Victorian homes won’t be havens for squatters and addicts. One day our city will have plenty of jobs, so maybe those squatters and addicts can be gainfully employed and once again have their integrity. One day our Detroit Lions will have a winning record. (And the city will once again be electric.) I have hope against hope. I believe.

And that’s because I know what I felt on October 14, 2006. I know what I feel every time I see the Detroit skyline, or sit in the sun at Comerica Park. I know what I experienced as I hugged the strangers outside the Fox Theatre on Woodward Avenue. I know what I saw on the faces of Detroiters as I drove around the city that night, with Survivor’s Eye of the Tiger on repeat, blaring out of my car stereo.

And in that feeling… That feeling that can’t be named, there was possibility. There was potential. There was hope. There was commonality and camaraderie.

You see, when you fall in love with someone or something, their flaws seem to slip away. Their annoying laugh becomes cute, and their socks on the floor, endearing. Detroit’s problems are much more serious than the occasional dirty towel left on the floor. But, if we can combine the electricity from October 14, 2006 with some elbow grease and perseverance, maybe we can fix those problems. That’s what you do when you love someone or something. You try to help them succeed and be their best self. I’m only one person, but I’m a person who fell in love with Detroit.

Just the other day, I was having a discussion with a Detroiter I know from Twitter. Although we were discussing computer issues, I made mention of the fact I had moved from Los Angeles to Michigan.

He asked me what made me move here, as he often hears more about people leaving the state than moving to the state. While a long-distance relationship originally moved me here, it hasn’t been what’s kept me here. Yes, I’m still in the same relationship, and yes, the relationship is still going strong.

My partner and I have discussed relocating to other cities. We have family in Florida, as well as California. I have a large number of friends scattered throughout the great state of Texas. (And it is a great state!) We both have that adventurous nature of wanting to experience new places. But any and every time we’ve discussed a move, we always come back to the same conclusion: we want to stay in Michigan, specifically the Detroit Metro.

You may be wondering what could possibly make us want to stay in a region whose largest city is known for having a staggering rate of violent crime and an unrivaled unemployment rate. I could answer this question in many ways, coming from many perspectives.

So, why do we stay in Detroit? And the even bigger question: Why do we want to stay in Detroit? (And when I say Detroit, I mean the City and the suburbs.)

We have family here.

While we have family in various other parts of the country, we have more family here. Family is something that is very important to both, my partner and me.  Even still, Detroit is centrally located in respect to much of our family. We can get to New York, Florida, Virginia, or even California with an easy flight out of Detroit.

We’re both huge fans of the underdog.

The underdog? Yes, the underdog. You don’t have to look very far to find an underdog in Detroit. Whether it’s our football team, the Detroit Lions or the auto-industry, we’ve got plenty of underdogs in Detroit. What makes the underdog special? Lots of things. The underdog has to fight for things just a little bit harder than those who have everything handed to them. The underdog has so much untapped potential and usually a pretty interesting history. And best of all: hardly anyone expects the underdog to make it, but when the underdog does? It’s like magic.

Detroit has some of the most persevering people I’ve ever seen.

Detroit Lions fans are hardcore. How we’ve kept from jumping off the Ambassador Bridge after so many unsuccessful seasons, I’ll never know. And this is coming from someone who has only been a fan for 6 years. How the people who have been fans for more than that still manage to get out of bed in the morning, is a question that could baffle the most prolific philosopher. But it speaks to one of two things. Either Detroiters are crazy, or they’re some of the most persevering people in this country. I prefer to believe the second hypothesis, although on many Sundays, I’m inclined to believe the first.

Detroit has amazing architecture.

When I’m in downtown Detroit, there’s one thing that always puts me into a state of awe: the absolute splendor of much of Detroit’s architecture. And it’s not just the big fancy buildings. As I drive through the small suburban streets on a crisp autumn day, the craftsman bungalows and stately tudors can’t help but make me remember a time when I didn’t even exist – a time that is called middle America. A time when we didn’t have any of the digital distractions that make our live more convenient, yet also more chaotic. A time when milk was delivered to your doorstep by a friendly milkman, and a time when we actually took the time to know our neighbors.  In Detroit, you’ll find the architectural masterpieces by great architects such as Albert Kahn.  Because of its architecture, there was a time when Detroit was referred to as the Paris of the West. Detroit architecture, whether decayed or not, is some of the most amazing stuff you’ll ever see.

Detroit has a rich history.

Much of Detroit’s history, to put it honestly, really sucks. In my first few months of living here, I was on the verge of being obsessed with reading everything and anything I could get my hands on relating to Detroit history. I was astounded at the tribulations newly freed slaves had to face. I was even more outraged after reading the stories of Dr. Ossian Sweet. I was heartbroken when I read the tales of the blockbusting that took place in many of our Detroit neighborhoods.  And all I could do was shake my head after learning about the wall placed on Eight Mile Road in order to secure real estate development loans.  The riots of ’67 speak for themselves.

But, all of this terrible history aside, there is still much good to be found in the history of Detroit. On Monroe Street, in downtown Detroit, you’ll find the Second Baptist Church of Detroit – a church that served as a station of the Underground Railroad. We are the birthplace of the automobile industry. Ever hear of Stevie Wonder? How about The Supremes? If you have, you’ve heard the Motown sound.  Detroit’s role in the Industrial Revolution cannot be stated enough.  I am proud to live in a city with such a fascinating and rich history.

Sports, sports, sports.

If you follow me on Twitter, you’ve probably seen me tweet about a Red Wings game. Or a Lions game. Or a Michigan game. Or a Tigers game. If there’s one thing I learned when I moved to Michigan, specifically the Detroit area, it’s this: Detroiters love their sports. After living in three states and many different cities, I’ll make the bold claim that Detroit has some of the best sports fans in the nation. It’s kind of like a thread that ties us all together. You can strike up a conversation with just about anybody about the Lions, the Tigers, the Wings, or the Pistons. Chances are, they’ll know about a great play in last night’s game, or make a deprecating joke about the Lions.

You can actually afford to have a great qualify of life in Detroit.

Having been raised in California, the prospect of living in anything except for an apartment was a foreign concept to my concrete-fed mind.  However, after moving to Michigan, I learned that the Great American Dream of home ownership could actually be attainable in my lifetime. For less than $200,000, you can easily find an amazing house with a yard, a white picket fence, and plenty of space for the dogs or the kids. And, you can find it in a safe neighborhood with tree-lined streets that are a sight to behold, especially after a fresh snowfall.

We have the Four Seasons. (The actual seasons. Really)

Another thing that was foreign to me, having grown up in Southern California, was the concept of seasons. The most I’d ever known of winter was a 50 degree, rainy day. I don’t recall ever seeing the fall colors, and I certainly don’t recall there ever being the first snowfall of winter. Although I don’t enjoy driving in the snow or on icy roads, there’s nothing more serene than the quiet that comes along with winter’s first snowfall. There’s few things more breathtaking than the sight of the reds, yellows, and oranges you’ll find on oaks, poplars, and maples in the month of September. Spring brings with it 40 degree temperatures and excitement about ditching our snow boots. Summer brings warm nights, a sky that’s lit until 10:00pm, and the cool breeze that comes along with being out on a boat on one of our many lakes. The seasons are just one of the things I fell in love with.

Detroit has potential.

As I said: hardly anyone expects the underdog to win. But when the underdog does, it’s like magic. When I look at Detroit, I see a city that was once great; a city who longs to be great again. When I look at Detroit, I see a city that is can’t wait to rise from the ashes like a phoenix, much like its motto proclaims. I see a place filled with people who love their city and want nothing more than to see it rise again. I see an area with diversity. An area with grit. An area that I hope will one day be greater than it ever was. An area that will make those Detroit-haters shut their mouths once and for all.

The People.

I’ve already said that Detroit has some of the most persevering people you’ll ever find. But, what I didn’t say is that Detroit also has some of the nicest people you’ll ever find; people who genuinely care.  The people of Detroit and the surrounding suburbs are real. These are people who will look you in the eye; people who will help you carry your furniture into your house, or help you find an honest mechanic. Now, not all of the people of Detroit are like this, but what city’s residents are perfect?  Sure we’ve got crime, but who doesn’t? To be cliche, I’m not about to let a few bad apples spoil the whole bunch.

To sum it up, I love Detroit. It challenges me, it makes me think, and it makes me have something that I think we all need to have a little more of: Hope.  I love it here. This is my home. While many people are leaving, I will be staying. After all – when the underdog wins?  It’s like magic.