This is my attempt at blogging. It is probably a little confused at the moment because this whole moving to the middle of nowhere with no friends my own age thing while it's about 105 degrees each day is throwing me for a loop. Especially because I'm writing this from a really hip seeming coffee place- though not too hip because they do close at 8pm and aren't open on Sundays- and this place is like the opposite of the rest of town. Anyway, here is my first attempt about talking about here, hopefully the writing gets better as things pick up.
I wonder if this year is just going to be one giant lesson in misunderstandings. I won’t understand people here since I will be too busy getting all freaked out by their inner Jesus love- they won’t understand me- after all, I went to an Ivy League school and am Jewish- and my friends won’t understand why I’m here and I won’t understand why they think that I’m miserable. Am I miserable? I think that it’s more like I’m intrigued, confused, and in a state of suspension. I am waiting to meet people, to move into my house, to get a car, for classes to start, for the campus to get busy, for me to get busy, etc. I guess I do partially wish I were in a city, New York or something, somewhere that my friends are and the living is easy, but that wouldn’t be a challenge in the same way. I can’t claim to want to see America and then assume that driving through it some day will give me that chance. I do also think, more and more, that it would be ridiculous not to see America. I can’t just assume everyone else is a Jesus loving fiend without even meeting them.
And the truth is that it all does seem far more complicated than that. The people here are not morons, everyone talks about this idea of being self-sufficient and self-reliant and un-pretentious as an explanation of the ways of South Dakota. It is clear to the people here that the rest of the country, and certainly the rest of the world, does not care about East river or west river, and that doesn’t seem to bother them. There may be some wistfulness as to outsiders thinking that they are unsophisticated- expressed generally by liberal South Dakotans- but generally, that is not a worry. And isn’t that what I’m fascinated by, the fact that for some people there is no worry as to what other people think of them on a grander scale. Whereas, as Chuck Klosterman points out in Killing Yourself to Live it is virtually impossible to be at a concert in New York City and not feel like everyone there is there at least partially because they have to be there to be cool, or to not miss out- not because they genuinely want to see that band on that night.
Maybe that’s not true, but it certainly feels true, especially whenever I find myself at a hipster event of any type in NYC. At the same time I hope this jaunt in So. Dak isn’t some elaborate method of self delusion where I manifest my stress regarding trying to seem cool in New York by running away to somewhere that has a definition of cool that I don’t know and has previously, and maybe even presently, been irrelevant.
I also am genuinely concerned about my ability to retain my sense of self without feeling like an imposter. Today I went to Welcome Table, a genuinely kind event that is held in the Methodist church each Monday from 5:30-7, known here as dinner time. Different community groups sponsor the dinner each week- tonight’s was sloppy joes with mushy green beans, BBQ potato chips and cake- and serve it to whomever shows up without cost. The idea is not to just serve the impoverished or the disabled, but to hold a sociable event where a wide cross section of Vermillion residents can eat a nice meal together. There is even free child care. So, if this is so nice, and there is no overt mention of Christ, why should it freak me out? I think that since being told that I was going to hell because I do not believe in Christ I have this assumption that many religious Christians view my bottom line as someone who is living life poorly because it is not being lived in service to the Lord. I wonder whether I should try to get over this feeling, or whether I should accept it. It seems like many of the progressives in Vermillion hang out in this coffee house setting in a church and the event has a definite religious flavor. Seeing as I am here to test my limits while trying to understand America better, it seems limiting and possibly discriminatory to not try it out. Then again, maybe I will hide out in this coffee shop forever, eventually making friends that don't seem to emanate religious vibes.
3 comments:
Ah, yes: the one oasis of a coffee shop. I sympathize with your feelings of being an outsider, especially in terms of religion. Here, no one has made any direct comments about the speed with which I'm going to hell, but there's always this feeling, among my roommates as well as strangers in the grocery store, of judgments being made based solely on brief exchanges or even just appearance.
But I have also found that outsiders stick together, and it's all about finding their hang-out places of choice: the coffee shop that doubles as a fair-trade gift shop, the Saturday morning farmer's market, and, luckily, my job (and hopefully yours, too). It feels refreshing and redeeming and not a little bit nostalgic to show up at these places and feel just that much closer to home.
"what is vermillion" was a question on jeopardy last night! keep up the blogging, i sit at a desk in midtown all day long. :-)
You'll have to talk with my friend Nicole when you're in Madison. When I was visiting her in Missoula, MT a woman that was wondering through Nicole's backyard told us that our finances and love lives would improve if we accepted Jesus into our lives--rather amusing in retrospect.
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