Today's Arithmetic Sequence #1: About Flint.

DIARY

I was telling Jessica the other day that I sometimes have doubts about moving back to Flint. The comment is pertinent right now specifically; we want to get a house after our educations are finished, and we're faced with the prospect that anywhere we go, our family and friends are gradually dispersing. I have potential job connections in the Flint area, the area is also in demand for people in all of the fields Jess is considering, and the city would keep us a manageable distance to family in Michigan and Ohio and friends in Chicago.

Not that there is anything solid; just that there this is the stage of our discussion. We've been talking about this question for many years now, and probably won't settle on a decision for several more.

What I was telling Jessica, however, is that I haven't really expressed, in a nuanced way, to many people, my doubts. Why? Well, first, just because of how much is personally invested in the discussion; it takes much more effort to have an objective conversation about a subject in which one is emotionally invested, and everyone knows that my hometown is a central concern of mine (maybe, they think, an obsession).

My awareness of this fact also skews the discussion. That is, I don't want to mention any doubts because it feels like I'm compromising myself; if I admit any reluctance, I'm opening myself to criticism on that point later on at best. At worst, I'm nourishing possibly false hopes.

On the other hand, I think this effect is reversed on the flipside. People who care for Jessica and my future are, not unwilling, but a little reluctant I think to look for / recognize any of the virtues I see in Flint because they don't want to encourage an irresponsible, misguided, or short-sighted decision.

Don't get me wrong; I think everyone is trying very hard to be honest and mostly succeeding. And it doesn't have is much to do with whether we tell the truth so much as what we choose to talk about.

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Jess' response to my comment was that she thought people would take my hopes more seriously if I presented them along with my misgivings; that it would seem I was confronting the issue on realistic, human terms instead of trying to dress up a place as a better deal than it really was. I think that's good advice, and I guess this is a sort of "coming clean":

If at any moment I'm 60% sure I'd like to move back to Flint, then I'm 40% full of doubt. There are a number of reasons for my doubt:
- Most importantly, Jessica's happiness. I don't think I could endorse any home that wouldn't offer her security, comfort, and a good bit of fun.
- I don't want to get a house that will be worth less after a decade of living and presumed improvements than when we bought it.
- Likewise, I want my children to grow up in a neighborhood and schools where they can learn and play and explore safely.
- I want to be surrounded by friends and people that I care about. While it looks like Flint will be at least as good for that as anywhere else could be, it is sobering to me that my brother and sister at least are likely to live far away, and that most of my local friends have moved on as well.
- If I have more by way of career clout in Flint (the medium-sized fish in a small pond syndrome), there is a correspondant risk that the ceiling might be uncomfortably low. That is, I might be aiming for a William Faulkner situation (successful writer living in the middle-of-nowhere) but wind up closer to an opusless Mr. Holland.

That's it in a nutshell. More often than not, I still think that a life in Flint could rise to these challenges; especially if we're careful and deliberate in their consideration. That said, there are times when I wonder if we might not be happier in Chicago, Seattle, Belize.

I'm just saying: the thought does cross my mind, frequently and deeply.

END OF POST.