Syracuse. The Salt City. Home of the Orange. Site of the New York State Fair. The snowiest city in the country. The highest child poverty rate in any city in the country. Syracuse may be all these things, but to me, it is home.
Not literally home, however. Since the age of two, I’ve lived in Onondaga Hill, a hamlet just outside the southwest corner of the city limits. My house is a typical single family home in a classic suburban neighborhood where there is next to no crime, lots of dogs, friendly neighbors, and insulation from the hustle and bustle of the city by virtue of the 500 foot cliff at the end of my street. As a result of this hillside, I have to travel about two miles to reach the outskirts of the city, despite the legal boundary only being a quarter mile from my front door. Because of this distance, and because my high school, middle school, and elementary school were all just outside the city, every time I’ve ended up inside the actual city, it’s been the result of a conscious decision. I’ve never been able to just wander the city and explore, which is something I’ve enjoyed doing here in Ithaca.
My first memories of the city are from first grade, when my mom, my brother, and I started alternating going to the Rosemond Gifford Zoo and the Museum of Science and Technology (MOST) on Friday afternoons. Driving to and from these destinations, which were both near the heart of the city, gave me some exposure to city life, but roughly eighty percent of Syracuse remained yet unexplored to my young eyes.
During these drives, some offhand comments from my mom would shape my view of the city for much of my childhood. My mom is not a paranoid person, yet she always made sure to lock the doors to our car every time we had to stop at a light. She occasionally took long cuts to avoid corners where there was likely to be a homeless person asking for money. At that age, I accepted everything my mom said unquestioningly, so I came to believe that the city was a dangerous place that was to be avoided whenever possible.
Once in high school, however, I began to see the city with curiosity instead of apprehension. During this time, I went on runs farther and farther into the city from my school, I drove through the city to various friends’ houses, and I went to multiple popular restaurants downtown for the first time. During these various excursions, I came across many cool and interesting areas of the city that I had never seen before. Some of my friends introduced me to attractions downtown, such as arcades and sports bars. Once I got money of my own and a driver's license, I started to look forward to going into the city without a specific plan of what to do. I also began volunteering at a soup kitchen on the west side of the city, and this allowed me to much better understand what life was like for the poorest residents in the city. By last summer, I think I finally was able to view Syracuse for more or less what it is, and not what I thought it was.
Since I’ve lived in the Syracuse area my whole life, I instinctively compare any and all cities with Syracuse first and foremost. Since Syracuse is an atypical city in many ways, I am usually surprised at one or more aspects of any other city I visit. When I spent a considerable amount of time in New York City for the first time when I was old enough to fully comprehend what was going on, I couldn’t believe how the buildings and streets seem to go on and on forever with no drop offs in the density of developments. When I visited Chicago for college tours, I was surprised at the infrastructure for pedestrians and bicyclists along the lakeshore, as well as the vibrant areas where young professionals live near the city’s downtown. And finally, when I walked around Ithaca for the first time as a Cornell student, I was surprised at how small the city was and how nice the pedestrians-only commons was. Having Syracuse as my baseline city is nice in many ways, as it makes me appreciate aspects of cities that others may find to be unremarkable as something very interesting and curious. After having lived away from Syracuse for an extended period for the first time in my life over these past six months, one thing I’ve learned for sure is that I can’t imagine retiring and living the rest of my days anywhere other than Syracuse, New York.
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