If someone had given my 22-year-old self a snapshot of my life as it is now, becoming a suburban stay-at-home mom at 27, I would have felt something like disbelief.
My first real introduction to Detroit was when I was a recent college graduate, planning to begin my Master’s degree in social work. As part of my job as a research assistant, I met with women and families living in Detroit. I sat with them in their homes in neighborhoods where more houses were abandoned than occupied, and I listened to their struggles. A close friend lived downtown on Woodward, and I often visited her to grab dinner or drinks, and I imagined what it would be like to live there myself. Somehow, I was heartbroken by and fell in love with the city simultaneously. It wasn’t easy to love. It was gritty and proud; it had a past. But I felt so much promise, and I just knew that someday I would live at a Detroit address.
Life (i.e. grad school, and my now-husband) took me to Boston for a few years, but Detroit was always our end goal. As I worked toward my degree, I thought of those Detroit families I’d met in the past, and I felt it was my mission to get back and give back to the city I loved. When the opportunity for us to move back to Michigan arose and we began house hunting, we faced a pivotal decision: city or suburbs.
I grew up in the country, then lived in cities, and had never felt drawn to life in the suburbs. I thought of convoluted subdivisions with identical houses, perfectly manicured lawns, Keeping Up with the Joneses (though now I know that can happen to you anywhere, if you let it). Then we visited Ferndale, and it fit. A 15-minute Uber ride to downtown Detroit, a walkable downtown of its own, safe, affordable, diverse, fun. Far from cookie-cutter, but a place where we could envision our future children riding their bikes down the sidewalk.
My husband and I often talk about our “forever home.” Not for this year or the year after, but we hope to be settled there, wherever it is, before our 1-year-old son starts kindergarten. Maybe it will be in Ferndale. But my recent Zillow searches also include Sherwood Forest, University District, Palmer Woods, Corktown, Indian Village. Gorgeous historic homes, tree-lined streets, cozy neighborhoods, the pride of living in Detroit, for half (or a third, or a fourth) of the cost of a similar home elsewhere.
We love the restaurants, the sports, the history; we love being a small part of the city’s resurgence. But Detroit has struggles. All cities do. There’s crime and blight and the state of the public schools and home insurance and car insurance to consider. It’s complicated. These factors form an elaborate equation in my head as I try to balance it all out: Is it worth it? It would be bold and interesting, but would it be best for our family?
For now, we spend a lot of time in Detroit. We take our son to countless restaurants, Eastern Market, Tigers games, Belle Isle. Our local Meijer is on the Detroit side of the 8 Mile city limit. It isn’t much, but we want him to grow up feeling connected to this amazing city, because at the very least, when Detroit does better, we all do better.
My hope is that it will be different when our son is older. I hope if he one day juggles the pros and cons of living downtown, the cons will include “too busy,” “too loud,” “too expensive.” These are the issues I want for Detroit. I hope that throughout our lives here, and one day through my work again as a social worker, I can witness the city get there. It is getting there. And in the meantime, maybe we will have that Detroit address after all.
