Resident of California

Washington DC in the Snow

Photo and text by Gabrielle.

I like to listen to NPR when I’m in the car, and during the local news updates when a story about California is being shared, I’ll be listening in a removed way and then all of sudden think: Oh. I live in California! This story is relevant to my life! I’m a Californian!

And then I think something along the lines of: That is so strange.

A related thing happens when Ben Blair is driving and I look up from the passenger seat and see a landscape or cityscape that is completely unfamiliar and think: We’ve only been in the car for two minutes, but I wasn’t watching where we are going and I have no idea where we are and would have to use GPS to even point myself in the right direction if I wanted to head home.

Basically, I’m in a funny situation where my home city and home state aren’t quite home yet. It’s not that I have regrets or complaints about moving here, it’s just that everything still feels so new and 7 months in I’m still playing catchup.

This really hit home during my trip to Washington D.C. (I’m still here in D.C., writing this from my hotel room and will head back home today.) On Tuesday, I had the chance to lobby the senators and representatives from my state on behalf of ONE.org. ONE is bipartisan so we were lobbying both republicans and democrats. As we were being briefed the day before, I experienced a moment of identity crisis. My thoughts were something like: I’m lobbying for California? I haven’t even registered to vote there yet. I’m still using my Colorado driver’s license. I have only a slight handle on Bay Area geography — on which cities are where. And I have no idea who my congresswomen/congressmen are!!

Luckily, California happens to have some famous names among our representatives (think Nancy Pelosi, Dianne Feinstein and Barbara Boxer), so I actually do know many of my representatives, and my identity crisis was short lived. I reminded myself I was born in California and lived there till I was 5. I learned to speak my native language in California. Growing up, I spent time in California every year of my life and both of my parents were born and raised in California. So I have deep roots in my new-again state.

This trip has been a good reminder to me that it’s time to dive deep and really get to know my state and my city; to learn the problems and passions of California and of Oakland specifically, and to care (or care more) about the outcomes of propositions and proposals that affect my slice of the country.

It also made me curious: Have you ever been in the same state-of-mind that I am in now? Have you ever been surprised that you are a resident of the state/country/city you reside in? Have you ever felt like a resident of no place at all — sort of detached from where you live? I imagine not everyone experiences this sort of thing. Where do you consider yourself a resident of? What are your thoughts?

P.S. — I’ll give a full report of my trip to Washington later this week (or possibly next week.) But have to tell you how lovely it was when it snowed yesterday. The flakes were giant and fluffy and since Oakland doesn’t experience the sort of winter I’m accustomed to, it was a treat to have snowflakes on my nose and eyelashes.

114 thoughts on “Resident of California”

  1. I’ve lived in NJ for nearly 9 years, but my husband and I were both born and raised in different areas of PA as were our parents and grandparents. We met in yet another PA city. And…well, we’re not a fan of NJ in general. But we got married while living here (we actually got married in PA…on purpose), bought our first house here, and had our two babies here. I suppose this is now my “home” state, but I refuse to accept that. And I don’t consider my kids to be “from NJ”…I figure their pure PA blood and our PA marriage make them genetically PA-bred :) It’s a struggle to care about NJ politics because 1) they are inherently corrupt and 2) I’m happy to move out of state whenever the situation suits.

  2. Yep! I really feel like that sometimes: French, born and raised in part in the Caribbean, then France, then several states in the US later, I am still not sure which country/ part of the world I really belong to. Sometimes I crave the wooden open doors home on the hill with the rainforest in the backyard and views of the Caribbean sea from the side porch of my childhood. To move again? Are we staying here forever? Do we belong? There are not always clear answers to these questions.

  3. My home is Virginia. I still think about home everyday, even though it has been ten years since I lived there. When I was living in California (Los Angeles area) I remember walks in the warm evenings where I would smell the jasmine and the eucalyptus trees and feel like a stranger. Now I live in Idaho. People have lived and farmed here for generations, but I don’t think I’ll ever have my own roots here. Thankfully, I have always made dear friends wherever I have lived, friends that seem surprised that I can pull up and relocate after a few years. My friends don’t realize that their home is not my home.

  4. It was not until I was in my 30’s that I lived in one place longer than 4 years. For me, the word “home” has never been associated with a geographic location.

    The very simple (and frequent!) question, “where are you from?” has always been confusing for me. Everywhere? Nowhere?

    Now I’ve lived in my current state for 15 years and my current city for 11 years, though only 2 years in my current house (that said, it appears to be my ‘forever home’). Coming to terms wtih this new reality has been very strange. It is mentally unsettling to me to think of myself as ‘settled’. I wrestle with the notion of permanent residency.

    I can not relate to my children’s reality – they will all be ‘born and raised’ in one city and will definitely have a clear answer to the “where are you from?” question. My head is not sure what to do with that . . .

    1. I love your comment, Robyn. I also had a stay-in-one-place growing up experience that is so different from what my kids are experiencing. Sometimes I don’t know how to relate to what they’re going through — like when they were enrolled in the French public schools without knowing French. I’d certainly never done anything that challenging in my life!

  5. I like the idea of having geographic slices within me. I’ve moved about a lot; recently from the Republic of Panama (six years) to Hood River, Oregon. Big international dirty city in Central America to small river mountain town, population somewhere around 7k during the winter months. Oh, and speaking of – – winter! From tropics to bitter cold (to me, locals call it a mild winter). But my kids: Panama is all they’ve known, so this is a new cultural adventure from them, filled with wonder. I cling to that, as moving your life is damn hard. And despite knowing the “it takes a year…” mantra, it’s still hard. “Where are you from?” will always be a trick question; but I prefer it to the american “What do you do?”

  6. I am in this very same mindset right now. We moved to Detroit, MI about six months ago and I still don’t quite feel at home here. Though we felt at home within our home quickly, I still have moments of panic and confusion when I see traffic signs for Detroit rather than Salt Lake City (where we moved from ). I can’t imagine moving to a new place with only the phone book and paper maps to rely on like my parents had!

  7. I have lived in utah for basically 11 years (minus 18 months), and it has never felt like home. I recently visited my parents who just moved to Arizona, where my mom grew up. It felt just like home.

  8. Yes, I’ve been living in a place for 1.5 years and nothing about it feels familiar. Somehow, that disconnect between “home” and my surroundings hits hardest after mundane tasks like grocery shopping. My friends who have relocated a lot say to give it 3 solid years. Hopefully by 2015, I’ll be able to make the drive from Whole Foods w/out weeping by then.

    I’ve lived in places other than my beloved home town without problems, so I know it’s not just me. Funny how some places immediately feel like home but we have to work for it in others. (At what point should we admit defeat?)

      1. I suppose it means to acknowledge that my current home isn’t a good fit, and to work towards living in a place that is.

        Also of interest: “I can’t live where I want to, I can’t go where I want to go, I can’t do what I want to, I can’t even say what I want to. I decided I was a very stupid fool not to at least paint as I wanted to.”
        ― Georgia O’Keeffe

  9. I was born and raised in Albuquerque, NM. I lived there my whole life minus two years in Washington DC for dad’s work, but when we moved back to Albuquerque we even moved back into the same house. I went to Utah for college, met my husband, got married, stayed for 10 years. Then in 2011 we moved to Gallup, NM. I had been to Gallup once in my growing up years–to cheer for a football game in high school–and had zero knowledge of the place beyond that it was the place with the highest drunk driving rate in the country. I suppose I consider myself a New Mexican…but I don’t think I’ll ever be a Gallupian(?). Mostly I miss Utah. :)

  10. I just have to chime in and express my deep appreciation for all of the candor and honesty on this thread. I love to work with women through the personal discovery that can come after a relocation and it is awesome to see this kind of sharing.

  11. It’s so funny you brought this up because this is something I’ve thought about often. I’ve lived in many different places and there’s only one where I never felt myself. I’m originally from CA, but also lived in Colorado and Oregon as a kid. After college I lived in Chicago, NYC, and then North Carolina before coming back to CA. I felt completely at home in all of these places except North Carolina. The culture was SO different. While there, someone pointed out to me that in the West we’re used to seeing vast, open landscapes, but in NC, it’s all trees and feeling hemmed in. So it wasn’t just the culture, but the landscape as well. In Chicago and NYC, it was possible to see vast, open spaces (Lake Michigan, any view from a Manhattan Bridge) so it was very different.

    One of my favorite things to think about when I first move to a new place is what landmarks will hold my interest as I take the same routes around town. It could be anything from a classic car always parked in from of the same Arts and Crafts house or a huge Aeonium in front of a real estate office. When I find a bunch of those I feel like I’m home.

    1. “While there, someone pointed out to me that in the West we’re used to seeing vast, open landscapes, but in NC, it’s all trees and feeling hemmed in. So it wasn’t just the culture, but the landscape as well.”

      Oh yes! I know that feeling. In Utah, there are mountains that constantly give reference to where you are and where you’re headed (North or East or West or South). But when we moved to New York and lived in Westchester there were no mountains to point me in the right direction — in fact, there were so many trees it seemed like I could barely see the sky. It definitely felt new and exciting!

  12. After 43 years in the Bay Area (with only 4 away to SoCal for college!), I moved to Seattle (Mercer Island) for a job for my husband. We’ve lived here for two years, and I keep saying “here” when I mean CA. Also, when I (finally) got my WA state drivers license just before a trip, I looked at my husband and said, “Are you sure they’ll take this as my i.d.?” He looked at me like I was crazy, but it looked like monopoly money to me! We lived in 2 rentals before we bought the house we’re in now, so when I come back from a trip, I have to mentally go through each place to figure out where I’m going when I get “home”! LOL.

  13. An interesting topic!

    My ‘home state’ will always be California, even though I’ve lived in two countries and five other states. Having moved states so many times in recent years, I wanted to remind you that while it’s not something the state of CA actively pursues, you are are in violation of not getting a CDL. https://www.dmv.ca.gov/dl/dl_info.htm#two500 This is because you purchased a home and your kids are in public school. Perhaps your cars are already registered, if not, you could be in big trouble if you’re pulled over. https://www.dmv.ca.gov/pubs/brochures/howto/htvr9.htm#feesdue

    I don’t want to get into the state taxes bit but CA can be quite aggressive in collecting as they do like to scrounge for the change under the seat cushions. Unfortunately, we have personal experience with that.

  14. I moved every 2 years for the first 8 years after I graduated college. I’ve been in the same place now for 4 years. I grieve my home state, North Dakota, and my hometown, a tiny one. Serious pangs hit me all the time.

    I wonder if it’s all the moving that makes me not feel at home or something inside of me that won’t let myself relax into home. I remember chanting over and over in my head that I would never just settle or be complacent when I was observing the small town characters of my childhood. I look at them now as deeply content.

    Either way, I like me and I like the growth that comes from having to be home in your own skin because the home outside is changing all the time.

    And, one day, I will occupy that rocker on a front porch with a deep sigh of contentment.

    1. “I wonder if it’s all the moving that makes me not feel at home or something inside of me that won’t let myself relax into home.”

      I wonder something similar. Sometimes it does seem like there are people that are just naturally content, and others who are on to the next adventure before they’re finished the first one.

  15. Gabrielle: I’m a bit ahead of you–with now-launched kids (our baby graduated from college last June!) and I can tell you as an East Coast transplant some 30+ years ago that I STILL have moments when I think, “wait. I brought my kids up in California? that is so bizarre.” I can also say that it took me a solid five years to identify the Bay Area as “home”. I fought it and then…one time, flying back to San Francisco I had a surprising, unbidden thought, “I’m coming home.” I was 27, a bit older than my oldest. Do I still feel restless? Absolutely. Do I still go back to an East Coast summer and breathe in the green, the silky summer evenings? Oh absolutely. But then I go for a hike in February on Mt. Tam just 10 minutes from my house and I think, “ah. this is why we’ve stayed. this is why crazy, eclectic, amazingly diverse California is worthy of our efforts.” Dig in, Gabrielle. We are, for better or worse, an incredibly mobile society; I encourage my kids to vote, to care about their home places, their temporary cities, even if they do think that they will one day return home. To California.

  16. I am an American married to a Dutchman. We moved to Australia and fell in love with the place. For the last seven months we have been living in Texas and I feel the same way you do. Australia completely became home for me (we have citizenship now). When we were moving to the U.S. so many people from both countries said “you must be excited to go ‘home'”, not realizing that Sydney was home. I still have those moments of feeling completely lost here!

  17. I was born and raised in Pennsylvania and lived briefly in Colorado and Boston & my husband was born and raised in Ohio. We lived in Atlanta before moving here and we often wondered allowed when we’d find our niche in the world… and then six years ago, shortly before we married, we moved to Southern California for his job and we were gobsmacked with giddy over our new home. Sunshine and warm weather, beautiful landscapes until you can’t stand it. The whole state is amazing. I feel blessed that our children will grow up here and they will be true Californians. I feel like a local but I don’t know if I”ll ever feel authentically Californian. A friend of mine even pointed out that when she thinks of California, we don’t really come to mind. Hah!

  18. I grew up an Army brat, so in a way I feel like my whole life has been somewhat rootless, geographically. My family was my roots. And then, I spent my 20s living in DC (I LOVE your photo of the Capitol), so as transient a city as DC is, I often feel like that is home. Now I live in Arizona, and I can’t quite believe this is where I’ve landed. Six years later, and it still feels strange.

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