Dear Detroit,
My name is Cassie and I'm from a small town in North Carolina, where our largest building is Wal-Mart. I have always wanted to experience life in a big city, and you did not disappoint, but rather exceeded my expectations. You see, I was expecting a city filled with broken dreams and shattered glass, a city devoid of life and hope. I expected a scene of desolation against the backdrop of a dead city.
But you are not dead. You are so very much alive. You destroyed all of my preconceptions the minute I set foot on your gorgeous riverwalk and was exposed to the cultural diversity and breathtaking views you offered me. I saw the opposite of what I expected; I saw bike riders and people reading books and children playing in the fountain. I saw so much life, even after mere minutes of being there. And that first night, my group ventured into Greektown, and Monroe became my favorite street in all of a minute. It was still daylight out, but the criss-crossing lights that hung above the street had me hooked at first glance. I was entertained and enamored by your people, your mannerisms, and your atmosphere. (Not to mention the food, which is absolutely delectable).
Over the week, I saw your bad side. (the area around 8-mile road was pretty sketchy). I saw your homeless, your penniless, your dirty and your somewhat terrifying drunk Tigers fans. I saw your houses adorned with neon yellow signs that read, "Will Demolish". But I also saw your beauty. I saw your culture. I saw your parks. I saw your police; on boats, cars, horses, and bicycles. I saw your sports. I saw your riverwalk. I heard your music. I saw your street drummers and the guy playing the trumpet in Greektown. I saw your public buses, your taxis, your people mover. I saw your graffiti and your mosaics. I saw your alleys and your crosswalks. I saw Astoria Pastry Shop every single night I was there. I saw your stunning architecture and I ate your food. We rapped with a car full of your people as they drove beside us on our walk back to our hotel one night. I saw one of your artists sketching on a street corner and my dad bought me a rose from one of your people selling flowers on Monroe. I saw your Times Square and your Broadway. I heard your concerts and experienced your weather. I felt your rain, your breezes, and your sunshine. I sang in your streets and weeded your flowerbeds. I talked to your citizens. I heard your spoken word and the testimony of those who belong to you. I served and worshipped and learned and laughed in your city. And I fell in love with it.
I saw your life. I saw your hope and your future, but I also saw your present and it is so far from dead. I want to bring every single person who said to me, "Detroit? Why are you going there? So you can get shot?" and I want to show them the Detroit I got to see because there are a million reasons to see everything you showed me.
I came to see your for the first time as one in 30,000 teenagers. We all blended together for you, I'm sure,with our brightly colored tee-shirts, inordinate amounts of cheerfulness, backpacks and water bottles, not to mention the fact that we all seemed to know each other. You may have tired of our endless happiness, constant singing, or our multitude of high-fives and clothespins. Perhaps by the end of the week, you were ready to back to being "too-cool-for-you hipster" and leave the Disneyland vibe behind. You may have been ready to have your streets back at night, and not packed with teens singing the National Anthem for no reason at all. I'm sure your restaurants were ready to return to normal dinner crowds instead of being overcrowded by people clad in neon orange.
But I want to say thank you. Thank you a million times for putting up with the ELCA Youth Gathering 2015, because it wouldn't have been the same without you. Thank you for proving me wrong, and for showing me just how alive and vibrant and wonderful you really are.
I love you, Detroit.
Until Next Time,
Cassie
