The Emerald City

I often think about returning to Seattle one day. Last time I was there I couldn’t believe how beautiful it was. And, having lived in New York for the last three years, I also couldn’t believe how small it felt. But it’s a nice city, and despite the rumor that it rains a lot, I think it has some of the best weather in the country. Growing up, I remember thinking of how proud I was to be from Seattle. As I traveled around the west coast and was asked where I was from, I would boldly tell them I’m from Seattle, the big city, and the response would usually be one of awe and respect. Seattle is one of those cities that everyone who visits instantly likes and you hardly hear anything bad about (unlike Philadelphia, for example).

For those on the east coast, however, Seattle does not carry the same type of weight. When I tell people in New York that I am originally from Seattle, the typical response is something like, “Seattle . . . ?” as if they are hearing the name for only the third time in their life or as if it is some famous backwater farm. This is, of course, unless they have been there, in which case the response is usually warm and positive. I worked with a woman once who went to college in Seattle and said that there was not enough diversity in Seattle, as to which I quickly disagreed, as anyone who has spent time there would tend to. But then again, she had lived in Brooklyn her whole life prior to that, and as such, her comment may have been somewhat accurate. I don’t know what I’d do if I returned to Seattle one day, but I am sure that I would find great friends and rekindle my Seatown pride, just like when I used to live there.


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