Thursday, October 27, 2011
I lived in Oakland for three years, but always as a transient. I was from somewhere else. I was going somewhere else. I just hadn't done it yet. Oakland was never mine, and I never loved it. I complained about weather, and BART hours, and politics, and weather. And then I did leave, four years ago, and I stayed gone.
And yet I find now that I am from Oakland, as much as I am from Poway or Baltimore, or when I travel these days, and say that I am from Iowa. The place is embedded in my history, my habits, my expectations of the world. When something happens in Oakland, to Oakland, I take it personally. Even from 2000 miles away.