Cleveland, Ohio: Bad Town or Bad Press?

It’s funny how life goes.

Too often we neglect to see what’s right in our own backyards. As kids, we grow up not knowing what else there is in this world to explore, but as young adults the realization sets in. When that happens, it seems we can’t get enough.

I grew up in an upper middle-class family in the suburbs of Cleveland, OH. I loved it as a kid, thinking it was the coolest place on earth. I was so proud of the house I lived in and can even remember walking up the driveway every day after school, beaming with pride. I imagined in my mind how impressed everyone else must be when they laid eyes on my house too. It was nothing more than a 3-bedroom bungalow with 1 bath that could barely contain our family of 6 but it didn’t matter to me. To a 5-year-old, it was a palace.

It was the typical family home in my part of the world and it felt normal and natural to me. I never thought it wasn’t enough so it was quite shocking the day my parents announced we were moving to “a bigger house.” The first thought that went through my mind was why? I’ve got everything I need right here!

But the decision was final and so it was. Falling asleep one night I vowed to return to that house as an adult and buy it back. How I would ever do that I had no idea. It wasn’t important though. In the mind of a child, anything is possible.

Moving day came and went and off we went to what was in fact a much bigger house. With 4 bedrooms and 2 ½ baths, it really was impressive! I even got my own room with the promise that one day I would get to redecorate it. That should’ve made me happy but I never stopped longing for my old house. I thought of it often and couldn’t bear to think about who the new occupants were. Bigger wasn’t always better after all.

My life progressed and I settled in to my new school and made new friends. I still lived in Cleveland and still thought it rocked. But as I got older, a new realization began to manifest that not everyone thought the same thing. People jokingly referred to my hometown as the “armpit of America” or “the mistake on the lake.”

That smarts to a young adult who grew up loving it. How could people say that? What did they know? Those of us who lived here didn’t think so. It held the memories of my youth and young adulthood that I cherished.

Eventually though, over time, my mind started to resonate with that same belief. I began to feel ashamed and embarrassed of the very place that brought me life. I rejected it and laughed about it, disowning it and refusing to see what it had to offer.

It’s no wonder I felt so isolated when I was home.

I did everything I could to leave town as often as possible, but ironically I could never bring myself to leave for good. As much as I complained that Cleveland had nothing to offer, I kept coming back but I swore I would move one day and say goodbye forever! Yet that day has never come.

And now I know why.

It wasn’t until I truly began to appreciate it for what it offered and understand that it will always be a part of me did I make the connection that it’s who I am at the core. It’s coded deep within my DNA and it’s where I belong. There are no mistakes in life and it’s not by accident that this is where my ancestors decided to settle when they came to America. I was meant to live here for a reason.

Of the many times I’ve left Cleveland, Cleveland never left me and it wasn’t until a trip to the local museum did I realize how amazing this city really is. Not only were the people beautiful that night, but of course the artwork as well. To my surprise, I found Monet, and Dali, and Picasso, and Renoir. There was a bigger-than-life sized statue of Marcus Aurelius unearthed thousands of years ago and a gallery of paintings that would rival any in Rome.

I had to ask myself if I was still in Cleveland. I thought I had to travel to the Louvre to get famous artwork! Most memorable were pieces from local artists and I again found myself beaming with pride. Turns out I don’t have to leave home at all to get what my heart desires. Culture, couture, and intellectual stimulation are all right here for the taking.

My belief in my hometown was once again restored, but now from the perspective of an older, wiser woman who understands that it doesn’t matter what others say. For those of us who choose to live here, we’re fiercely loyal. We have a lot to take pride in such as our world class orchestra, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the Cleveland Indians and the shores of Lake Erie!

Even though I have yet to buy my childhood home back, I’ve never forgotten the promise I made to it all those years ago. I might’ve been a little girl at the time, but I always keep my promises. I want to hold on to as much of my past as I can to preserve it because it made me who I am today.

I’ll never forget my old house for loving me, even some times when I didn’t love it back. Just like my hometown.

Rock on C-town.

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