As I sit and begin to write this piece, I’m listening to the waves of the Pacific Ocean — not as an artistic background, but trying to take in each endless crash, and more importantly, what it has taught me throughout my life.
I’m from Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Cape Cod is a national landmark often associated with the Kennedy family and old money culture. It’s also known for the filming of Jaws on an island nearby, the Cape Cod chip brand, and, of course, the iconic Nantucket hydrangea flower. I could spot a tourist or “seasonal resident” from a mile away, whether it’s their American flag knit sweater or their fresh, bleach-blonde highlights.
I live off of a little man-made peninsula that is located on the coast of Massachusetts. My great-grandfather helped build the Sagamore Bridge, which, although currently being renovated, connects Cape Cod to mainland Massachusetts. According to the stories of my great-grandmother, I believe I am a sixth-generation Cape Cod resident, on my mother’s side.
The Neighbors: Martha’s Vineyard, Nantucket, & Boston
Surrounded closely are two non-man-made islands, Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket which both hold history, power, and wealth. Geographically and culturally, it sits in contrast with Boston, a city of American heritage and renowned for its brick architecture and prestigious academic landmarks. Either way, Massachusetts, and more specifically Cape Cod, has been an interesting background for a place like Santa Barbara.
Recently I came up with analogy that I feel accurately resembles the paradox between California and Massachusetts. The phrase “innocent until proven guilty” resonates with California, while “guilty until proven innocent” aligns with Massachusetts.
On a cultural level, people in California tend to be a lot more trusting and open, which was jarring to adjust to. In contrast, I would describe the people in Massachusetts as some of the most ruthless, yet deeply loving and loyal, people I’ve met in my life.
On a socioeconomic level, both Santa Barbara and Cape Cod face a very similar and pressing issue: a housing crisis, alongside a rapidly changing and growing homeless population. Both places are filled with vacant and empty luxurious mansions that sit along the ocean shoreline.
This contrast is enormously reflective on a macro-economical lens, of our local economies. It is especially evident in coastal and tourist-based towns, where the effects of the growing wealth gap in the United States are increasingly visible.
Additionally, there is a blend of similarities between both locations on ecological and cultural levels. There is a cultural understanding and respect for the environment — not only for its role in our local economy, but also as something that exists alongside the community.
Ocean life and coastal landscapes are deeply embedded in the cultural identity of both communities. It creates a really unique, almost spiritual relationship between the Earth and humans that isn’t always present as a cultural normality. In both places, some of my best memories have been by the ocean, whether it be walking, chatting, reading books, touching grass, picking flowers, or just laying out in the vast blue open body of water.
It’s hard to have your heart split in two beautiful places, but it has also inspired me. I hope to continue to move geographically throughout my life, and put myself in uncomfortable situations, because as I’ve learned, that is where the good comes in. Someday, I hope to live in a city, since I’ve been neighbors with the ocean, Pacific or Atlantic, my entire life.
The adjustment: East to West
I’ve found myself in a reoccurring situation in college where I am meeting new people, and they quickly form a preconceived notion about me as soon as I say I’m from “Cape Cod.” Sometimes people ask, “Where the f*ck is that?” and other times their jaw drops and they respond with, “OMG.” I’ve noticed a similar reaction when I tell people from home that I attend university in Santa Barbara, California — which, I want to acknowledge, is an extreme privilege.
Either way, there is a pre-painted image of who I am, what I’m like, and or what I value — something people begin to judge based solely on wherever you’re from. In college, I’ve learned it’s not something I want to lead with anymore, as it can attract the wrong crowd, which unfortunately does include, in no particular order: bratty, spoiled, social climbing, privileged, and unaware people. It has been really difficult to be more selective with the people that I surround myself with, and to lead with my heart and values.
There are two different experiences at play here: (1) college and finding yourself, and (2) the extreme difficulty of moving far away from home. College has shown me so much about who I am — as a person, a student, a friend, and a romantic partner. At the same time, moving away has taught me that I am adaptable and capable of anything that I set my mind to. As a first-generation college student, going to university was not something I was widely exposed to, nor was it an expectation within my family.
In both locations, I’ve been practically interviewed with questions about what this “other” foreign place entails, and bombarded with what it has led me to. But the truth is that, I moved on and went to college just like everyone else did, except, my second home happens to be over 3000 miles away.
Either way I am still in the same boat as everyone else my age, trying to figure out who I am and what my place is in the world. It was the most frightening choice I could’ve ever made for myself in that moment, and yet it has led me to so much unimaginable light.
It seems daunting to be without the ocean, which has always felt like a close relationship to me, but as jarring as that sounds, it’s almost what makes the idea appealing. The ocean has been such an influential piece of the way I perceive and interact with the world. It comforts me because it’s something I’ve always known and returned to. But that’s not all I want — to stay the same. I live to experience and evolve. To try new things and mess up, to succeed and fail, to create, to move, and most importantly, to love every stage of life.