Dear DC,
I have thought about writing this letter to you many times. I have pondered on what I would say, what I would feel, who it would affect, and what I would do after I sent it. Instead of overthinking this, like I usually do, I decided to just write. May what I have on my heart create just the words I need.
I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t start this letter off by thanking you. Because of you I have had some of the best experiences of my life. My understanding of the world, as well as myself, have been forever shaped (and reshaped) by you. DC, you afforded me the space I needed to discover a path toward love. Then you provided me with incredible travel partners who I know will journey with me for life.
They say that you are an overly professional city; one that only serves as a stepping stone for middle-class transplants; where people use LinkedIn for dating. Although much of this is true, I must admit the “network” you’ve helped me build has become more of a safety net of love and fellowship than anything else. Your temporary nature has taught me to appreciate every fleeting moment with those who matter most.
Yes, I obtained two degrees while I was with you, but those pieces of paper could never fully represent the depth of the education I received because of you. I have enjoyed the new hobbies you introduced me to: biking, snowboarding, brunching. I’m grateful for the healthier lifestyle I adopted. And I appreciate the diverse perspectives, models, and ideas you exposed me to.
Under your care, I fell in love. I became an author. I started programs for the youth. I expanded my pallet. I became more adventurous. I planted new seeds. I healed. And I reimagined myself.
However, through all of this, something has been missing. You provided me with endless connections, yet I was unable to genuinely connect with you, with your aura. I fear that in an effort to grow, you neglected the nourishment of your roots. When the urgency of developers forced you to get going, you lost sight of from whence you came. You let your chocolate melt. And now, these transplants, myself included, have reshaped who you are. I guess I just haven’t been able to identify with the city you’ve become.
You are filled with ego, elitism, modernity, power dynamics, and uniformity. All aspects and character traits I’ve been fighting against within myself. I know this is not all of what you are, and for many you feel like home. Yet, seldomly have you felt like home to me. Seldomly have you fulfilled my soul in the ways I now see I can’t live without. I know that the people make the place. For years I’ve searched for my sense of community within you. And though I have pockets of new found family who are your residents, I have not been able to get the kind of connection I want. The kind I need.
I am not under the impression that you don’t possess the kind of cultural belonging I yearn for. I just know it will take years of intentional effort to create the kind of safe space I crave. I would need to lay a new foundation on foreign land. All while my current base is being split between you and another. Her name is Charleston.
As I learn, I grow more aware of what I’m capable of. My energy and capacity has limits. I want to love, unconditionally, wherever I live. To do so, to love a place unconditionally, requires patience and commitment. And commitment requires surrendarance and focus. DC, I know if I split this energy and love of mine between you and Charleston, I will inevitably do all three of us a grave disservice. That reality, though painful, has never been more clear to me than it is now. If I’m being honest, I believe it’s a reality I’ve always known to be true, but decided to ignore.
The spaces we occupy––both physically and metaphorically––shape who we are, what we consume, what we desire, and who and how we connect with our human and non-human neighbors. For too long I have envisioned my impact, my role, beyond the realms of my influence. Like any other organism, each of us as individuals have an obligation to support our specific ecosystem.
My Jesuit education convinced me to go “set the world on fire.” While globalization conditioned me to believe no place on earth was off limits. But who’s to say I should ever feel entitled to the entire world being my ecosystem? I challenge my peers to check this sense of entitlement as well. Such arrogance to think we are inherently qualified or prepared to serve a nation or state, much less the world?! Rarely is this the proper arena for any of us; and for those who chase the power such large ecosystems bring, it never is. There is only one species in history that has managed to inhabit every ecosystem on earth without evolution, and that same species is single-handedly responsible for mass-extinction, climate change, and the rapid depletion of many natural resources. We as humans have continuously displayed our endless capacity to cause great harm when we decide to claim environments not meant for us. Never have we needed more humility.
So, as I search for my purpose, I now see I must start by pairing with the right ecosystem. The ecosystem I choose must also choose me. A mutual exchange of love, respect, and aid must be agreed upon. Otherwise, I run the risk of being an invasive species. DC, for the last seven and a half years I’ve searched tirelessly for such a mutual understanding with you. I’m beginning to worry that, much like the other transplants who don’t have an ear for Go-Go or a taste for mambo, I am becoming invasive––slowly stripping you of your resources and disrupting the balance for the indigenous.
There is, however, an ecosystem out there that feels like home. The same one that has always been home, even when I chose denial over truth. You see DC, the Lowcountry area is at an interesting turning point. One that I’m sure resembles the same fork in the road you were at some 15 years ago. There are new invaders who see Charleston for all that she’s worth. Meanwhile, so many of the natives that look like me cannot recognize her any more. Others, including my friends, no longer can see the city’s beauty through the jaded lenses forged for them by poverty and trauma.
I had those same blinders on when I first left Charleston in 2015. I needed to remove myself from her grasp. It was beginning to strangle me. In my escape I found refuge in you. Fresh soil for me to grow anew. I am forever grateful for your hospitality, but I do not wish to overstay my welcome. So I must leave. I will bear that burden for the both of us.
You must think I’m crazy for willingly returning to a place that nearly killed me. I don’t blame you. I’ve questioned this decision many times over as well. But Charleston has evolved as an ecosystem, and I have evolved as an organism. With my roots entrenched in her brackish soil, and my growth watered by your mid-Atlantic showers, Charleston and I will be meeting once again with a new found sense of curiosity towards each other that’s safeguarded by familiarity. Together we will be making the familiar strange. I have you to thank for building my tolerance for the discomfort that such a paradox will bring.
On that note, I must end this letter exactly how I started it: with gratitude. I’m eternally grateful for the space you’ve created for me, for the lessons learned, and for the family you helped me find. You will always have a piece of my heart.
As time goes on, I will continue to become. When that happens, who knows? The environment best for me will likely change, yet again. There may be a future cosmos out there where my ecosystem expands beyond the limits of Charleston. Then again, there’s a possibility that my ecosystem may shrink to the neighborhood that’s helping me raise my children. There may even be a future where you and I need each other once again and we find ourselves reunited.
In any case, I hope you know that it is all love between us, just as it’s always been. This is not a “goodbye.“ This is a “see you later.” I promise to visit. Spring with you will forever be one of my favorite things. In the meantime, I pray you continue to find your way, DC. As you chart your path forward, be sure to do right by those who love you as much as I love Charleston. They deserve to blossom alongside you.
Take care, DC. Until we meet again.
With peace and love,
Rome
