A New Michigan by Jill Oviatt

As a lifelong Michigan resident, I’ve always been curious as to how others see my home state.  On vacations to Florida I would proudly tell people I’m from Michigan.  I learned early on the importance of the Michigan mitten when a boy held up his hand, pointed into his palm, and said something to the effect of, “Isn’t this what you do?”  After that, the mitten point is what I did.  I also remember learning that Michigan residents weren’t fond of being called “ganders,” it’s “Michiganians.”  I learned we we’re “snowbirds” for flying south for the winter, less derogatory then “geese.”  I learned that Up North is all of Michigan, not just the Upper Peninsula, and I learned that most everyone has trouble distinguishing Michigan from Detroit.  I occasionally heard a comment about our lakes, but mostly from second home seekers.  After all my vacation discussions, I’ve concluded that Michigan is Detroit, the Mitten Matters, Florida is Michigan’s oddly bitter twin, we’re kinda folksy, and to many people, the Great Lakes acronym HOMES literally means “homes.”

For me, Michigan is an uneven mix of hidden natural beauty and gritty human struggle.  Mostly, I see and feel the struggle.  Except for the Fall season when the colors break through the grey, I find southern Michigan as flat and dull as driving any of our highways.  The roadwork and tar mounds remind me that this is a state under repair, and it’s a long wait for our three good months, July, August and September.  I believe it’s going to be a long wait for Michigan’s turnaround, too, and that waiting (for good or for bad) is what our residents do best.  We don’t head west for fortune, we sit down and strike.  We’re invested in who we’ve been, not in what we can be.

While there has been much in the news about new graduates leaving the state, the Michigan mitten seems to do a good job holding life long residents like myself.  I travel just enough to sometimes wonder why I still live here.  There are some very shiny, exciting areas in the United States with year-round good weather.  My history, however, is here, so I’ll stay and struggle with my state.  My family is from Flint.  They stayed through the plant closings and neighborhood declines.  Flint did not, and maybe could not, reinvent itself.  The city of Flint opened the failed Auto World, and in my opinion, confirmed the city a museum.  I have a hard time re-imagining Detroit as anything other than Motown and the Motor City, and I’m guessing the rest of the country does, too.  That’s a problem.

For the state to thrive, Michigan residents like myself will have to let go of the familiar, and either accept the challenge of a new identity or inhabit a museum.  I’m aware of the state’s efforts to encourage entrepreneurship.  I think there are a lot of good things happening as a result, at least that’s what I read in the paper.  But we’re not working with a California history that’s all about ventures, silicon and everything new.  We’re working with a Michigan history that’s heavy in steel and wage security.  It’s a big endeavor ahead to create a new Michigan, but I see our residents grudgingly committed for the long haul.  Vacations are great, but Michigan is home.