Thankful for California

Today, July 14, I'm thankful for having lived in California and the long-term influence it's had on me.

Frankly, I'm a bit surprised by this being one of the posts for my "thankful" series, but it occurred to me in thinking about what to write for today that my time living in California years ago has had a profound and lasting impact on me. I am a native-born American Southerner, having lived the majority of my life in the southeastern US. Although I've had the opportunity to travel around a lot of our country, my primary experiential context has been the American South, especially the "buckle of the Bible Belt" portion where I now live and have lived for a total of 30 years.

So, what in the world does California, a place I haven't lived in 40 years, have to do with having had a long-term influence on me? In thinking about this I have realized I can trace some things back to my 2 1/2 year-period in California, things that have characterized who I have been ever since, things that cause me to live with both eyes and mind a bit more wide open than might have been the case otherwise.

When we lived in California, we lived in Fresno, which is right in the middle of the state and also in the middle of the San Joaquin Valley, a major agricultural area for our entire country. Today Fresno is a city of over half-a-million people, so I would imagine when I was there its population was probably at least 300,000, maybe more. I lived close to Fresno St. University and went to their football games all the time. The climate was great, and if you wanted a change in climate, you didn't have to drive very far at all to get to the ocean, the snow, the desert.

My time in California introduced me to the beauty and vastness of the West, a region I still deeply love and miss today. But, California introduced me to something much deeper than geographical beauty and climate diversity. The diversity of humanity is the greatest thing California taught me and it is a lesson that resonates in me today, 40 years after I left there.

I hadn't really thought about this until the last couple of days. I don't know why the contribution of this time and place is just now coming so clearly into focus, but it is and I am thankful for that contribution.

The street on which we lived in Fresno (Santa Ana Ave.) was a mini-United Nations. If you were racist on that street, you were going to have a tough time. Asian, African, Portuguese, Italian, German, and Irish (courtesy of the Redman's) are just some of the ethnicities that were represented in our neighborhood. Everyone wore their ethnicity proudly, right under the shared identity of "American." No one was considered more American than anyone else. We were all Americans. We were all America.

Our parents worked hard, looked out for each other's kids, helped their neighbors. You know, basic stuff, built around shared values of community and neighborhood. Catholics, Protestants, Buddhists, and probably a few other religious labels I don't remember, all living side-by-side. I don't recall one argument or fight (God knows there were plenty, since it felt like there were about 1,000 of us kids on that short street) having to do with someone's ethnicity or religion.

I look back on that time and place, especially in light of much of the noise I hear today about "traditional values" and I realize the values lived out on a daily basis on Santa Ana Ave. were the kind of values that would make any neighborhood a good place to live. While so many people beating the traditional values drum today seem to be referring to a set of values that they believe are most closely held by one particular demographic group in one particular region of the country (read between the lines; you'll figure it out), my Fresno neighborhood from age 11-14 gave me both an experience and a vision of how life can be lived, should be lived, by all of us, with all of us.

It's been a few years since I've been back to California. I don't know when I'll get back there next, but when I do I plan on stopping in Fresno and driving back to Santa Ana Ave. (if it's even still there) and remember the lessons I learned there that help me be the man I am today and will hopefully be in the future. It will be a matter of paying my respects. Of giving thanks.