Most large cities have a state of mind or underlying culture that defines the place and the people who have lived there for a long time. There is definitely a Los Angeles, Cleveland, Miami, Atlanta, Dallas, Chicago, San Francisco, New Orleans, Boston, DC, and Detroit state of mind. Internationally, the same thing applies. Think Paris and Tokyo. I love the vibe in Montevideo, Santiago, of course, Yerevan, Istanbul, Mexico City, Athens, and even Bengbu, China.
But, a Livonia state of mind? Yes, Livonia. Livonia, Michigan.
Don’t the vibes and state of mind of the larger city extend over the entire metropolitan area? Would a Detroit state of mind cover Livonia?
Livonia is a suburb of Detroit. It was only a township until 1950 when it was incorporated into a city. Per Wikipedia:
First settled by pioneers from New England and New York, an act by the Legislature of the Territory of Michigan established the borders of Livonia Township on March 17, 1835. The settlers brought with them the name "Livonia", a name that had already been given to Livonia, New York, Livonia, Pennsylvania and a region on the eastern shores of the Baltic Sea named Livonia in present-day Estonia and Latvia, from which many early settlers came.Settlers from New York? No wonder I had such an affinity for New York City. It is right there, the defining core of the Livonia state of mind is the New York state of mind.
Livonia is the Michigan's nineteenth largest municipality with, a 2010 census, population of over 96 thousand. I lived in Livonia from 1969 until 1977, from the ages of sixteen to twenty-four. While, it wasn’t all that long, they were the important coming of age years. My parents still live here to this day. Thus, I do return here several times a year.
In the mid-1970s, when I was an undergraduate, I found myself in a corridor that housed the philosophy faculty at the University of Michigan – Dearborn. A professor whose name I do not recall, had an op-ed about baby-boomers coming of age taped to his door. It was not complimentary and had the tone of “kids these days...” I don’t even remember the specifics of the article, but I do remember the professor had written in the margin, “students from places like Livonia should read this.” He might have even used the word naïve in there somewhere.
It rubbed me the wrong way. I was a bit offended by this note from a professor who wasn't yet 30. I already thought he was a pompous, ivy league wannabe educated, northeasterner, who didn’t want to be in Michigan and was lording it over Livonia. While, I did not really feel particularly Livonian, I found myself, suddenly, in a Livonia state of mind.
I stopped whatever it was I was planning to do, wrote a statement, and taped it on his door feeling like some Livonian Martin Luther. What did I write? If it were this era, I would have taken a photo of what I wrote. At this point, I have to rely on my memory to resurrect the gist of what I wrote some forty years ago.
I didn’t attack the professor. But, I did defend having come to age in Livonia. I wrote about the wonderful teachers at Stevenson High School (Remembering Ms. Trosko). They taught me math, chemistry, physics, social studies, history, and English. They taught me to think and write. They along with my parents challenged me to excel beyond what I thought my capabilities were. They taught me to value education. Livonia, at that time, was a modest lower-middle class of Detroit. It was a city of auto-workers both blue collar and white collar that were closer to blue collars. It was a city where people worked hard to provide for their families where parents wanted their children to do better than they did. My Livonia peers of that era, grew-up and came of age in that city. We developed great friendships, had our first loves, first kisses, and first heartbreaks in Livonia. We experienced life and death, both in real life and on the sporting fields in Livonia. We had our first part-time and summer jobs in Livonia. We were studious and mischievous in Livonia. No matter what we might think and how others might see us, those Livonia experiences defined us. We graduated and either went to work, to the military, or matriculated to this University where you (the professor in question) could come… and judge us?
I guess I had a Livonia state of mind at that moment. Over the years I have found that Livonia state of mind to be quite similar with the states of minds in many other places I have come to know. Go figure. Maybe I am just a naive Livonian.
In the mid-1970s, when I was an undergraduate, I found myself in a corridor that housed the philosophy faculty at the University of Michigan – Dearborn. A professor whose name I do not recall, had an op-ed about baby-boomers coming of age taped to his door. It was not complimentary and had the tone of “kids these days...” I don’t even remember the specifics of the article, but I do remember the professor had written in the margin, “students from places like Livonia should read this.” He might have even used the word naïve in there somewhere.
It rubbed me the wrong way. I was a bit offended by this note from a professor who wasn't yet 30. I already thought he was a pompous, ivy league wannabe educated, northeasterner, who didn’t want to be in Michigan and was lording it over Livonia. While, I did not really feel particularly Livonian, I found myself, suddenly, in a Livonia state of mind.
I stopped whatever it was I was planning to do, wrote a statement, and taped it on his door feeling like some Livonian Martin Luther. What did I write? If it were this era, I would have taken a photo of what I wrote. At this point, I have to rely on my memory to resurrect the gist of what I wrote some forty years ago.
I didn’t attack the professor. But, I did defend having come to age in Livonia. I wrote about the wonderful teachers at Stevenson High School (Remembering Ms. Trosko). They taught me math, chemistry, physics, social studies, history, and English. They taught me to think and write. They along with my parents challenged me to excel beyond what I thought my capabilities were. They taught me to value education. Livonia, at that time, was a modest lower-middle class of Detroit. It was a city of auto-workers both blue collar and white collar that were closer to blue collars. It was a city where people worked hard to provide for their families where parents wanted their children to do better than they did. My Livonia peers of that era, grew-up and came of age in that city. We developed great friendships, had our first loves, first kisses, and first heartbreaks in Livonia. We experienced life and death, both in real life and on the sporting fields in Livonia. We had our first part-time and summer jobs in Livonia. We were studious and mischievous in Livonia. No matter what we might think and how others might see us, those Livonia experiences defined us. We graduated and either went to work, to the military, or matriculated to this University where you (the professor in question) could come… and judge us?
I guess I had a Livonia state of mind at that moment. Over the years I have found that Livonia state of mind to be quite similar with the states of minds in many other places I have come to know. Go figure. Maybe I am just a naive Livonian.
Very interesting post.
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