Our new city is mostly good. We’re slowly building a network of wonderful people. Our neighborhood is Mayberry-level safe and quiet. Michigan is gorgeous. We live near more beaches than I can count. The local Down syndrome association is really active and welcoming. And we could never afford a house like ours in DC. What would easily cost over a million dollars there is an $800/month mortgage payment here. I’m in love with our house.

But there’s only two other Black people in my medical school class. No one spoke to us at Monday night’s ice cream social. My neighborhood is only 7% Black, and the tenor of the conversations in their (our?) Facebook group makes me think all the BLM signs are a lie. My Congressional representative – and I should be happy just to have one, right? – is a Republican. There are Trump flags and MAGA hats everywhere. It makes me nervous to raise my kids here.

Living here feels like going on a stunning vacation and having a blast, but scratching uncomfortably though it all because you’re constantly being bitten by mosquitoes. And you wonder if you’re crazy because no one else seems to be getting bit. We’re not moving back any time soon, but it does make me miss DC.

I know. Washington isn’t perfect. Trust me, I know. It’s just the closest to Wakanda I’ve ever been, coloniz- I mean, gentrifiers and all.

I’m trying to remind myself that I can be exactly who I am without modulation or apology, even here.

Tierra

A malcontent with a heart of gold, Tierra is a first-year medical student, former high school teacher and history PhD candidate, plus mom to four of Bebe’s baddest kids. She curses a lot. Tierra is a DC native but lives in southwest Michigan and will happily exchange writing (hers) for cash (yours).