I have lived in a number of places and moved more times than I care to remember. The irony is that I have usually ended up moving to locations where I would never have pictured myself. Take for example my current stomping grounds: Indiana.
I was lured to Indiana as most people are — by the promise of a steady paycheck and a hearty dental plan. I know of very few people who say to themselves, “When I graduate from college and get a real job, I would like to live out the rest of my days as a Hoosier,” or, “Honey, let’s pack the kids into a hot car and drive for hours to spend some quality time in Terre Haute.” Indiana is just not much of a vacation destination let alone a living destination. This is not to say that there is something inherently wrong with Indiana, but Indiana’s PR people should probably rethink their tactics.
The state motto of Indiana is “The Crossroads of America.” When I picture a crossroads I imagine a lonely intersection in a desolate part of the country, or scenes from a coming-of-age movie with spurious ties to the music world. Neither version of “crossroads” is a tempting destination, but a place to leave and forget… fast. The rare instances that people stay at a crossroads is when they have given up all hope at deciding where to go and sit despondently cross-legged in the dust. That is how I perceive Indiana: populated by those who are momentarily pausing here to assess their lives before hastily moving on, and those who have no idea where to go and have set up camp. So the state motto may be accurate, but not hopeful.
Utah’s slogan during the 80’s was “Utah: a Pretty, Great State.” The idea was that Utah is both pretty and great instead of borderline mediocre. However, the slogan has the feeling of dating the acne encrusted FFA president until the prom queen gets dumped by the quarterback — slumming, not taking life by the throat.
Merely changing a state motto to something more snappy like “Utah: the Greatest Snow on Earth” or “Indiana: 2 Billion Years Tidal Wave Free” isn’t going to turn the tide (ahem) right away. There needs to be more.
It’s the self-perpetuating problem of places like Indiana: the place isn’t interesting enough to hold people who could set down roots and make it interesting. And the people who do set down roots, by the simple fact that they are setting down roots there, are depressing not interesting. Most movers and shakers flee to New York or L.A. where “interesting” things are already happening. Why is it so hard to make something interesting happen wherever you are? How do you work through a problem like this? Honestly, I have no good solutions. It’s not much of an ending to this discourse, but it’s honest.
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