There's No Place Like Home: Columbia

For a long time, I wanted to live somewhere cool like Philly or NYC. I had a plan to go to Temple for school counseling in grad school, live in Philly, then head to a large urban center elsewhere or stay in Philly and work with city kids. Then, think about going to law school down the road a bit. Didn't quite turn out that way.  

I like working with young people who don't have all of the advantages. Conversely, working with high SES (Socioeconomic Status) also means the Snot Index increases. I know, I lived in such a place growing up. Know-it-all power parents (dads and moms) and entitled kids. Not true in all cases but more true than not. Trust me.

Financial reality clicked in with grad school. My undergrad alma mater Millersville University offered me a grad assistantship (all tuition paid and a $100 a week stipend) to work with mostly urban students of color (with some White and Asians kids) in a freshmen support program. So, back to Central Pa. I went. Reluctantly.

I liked Lancaster but considered it backwards. The evangelical subculture in particular had a large section of the goody-goody types who actually were pretty petty souls. Not raised in the church, that peculiar form of religious person really irked me. Little nasty bundles of self-righteousness. Again, trust me on this.  There are also a lot of decent lifelong church people too. So, it is not one or the other. 

After grad school, I lived in Lancaster City at the time for about 7 years. Lancaster City back then was not the cool and chic place it is now, an oasis of small city sophisticates. It was pretty dead besides the world class Chameleon Club whose fortunes have waned as the city's stock has gone up. It used to literally be the only show in town. There was and still is the legendary Lancaster Dispensary (Dipco) which is my heart's bar...where I spent many a night with friends over food and drink.

I moved out to the Columbia region when I bought a house. The Columbia zip code is low rent but I happen to live in the odd part where it is the Hempfield School District which is much more desirable than the Columbia S.D. A hard luck school in a hard luck town. I wanted to make sure I could sell the property if I took off to Law School, like Pepperdine in Malibu, California. I did pretty well on the LSATs and was ready to pull the trigger when I had a deep conversation with a Franklin and Marshall professor friend of mine at the time who reminded me that most attorneys hated their jobs despite great pay. She commented that I liked school counseling, so why would I leave it? Good question, counselor take that!

Long story short, I did eventually get to Temple for my Ph.D. in Ed. Psych which really opened up my mind, where I researched cognition and learning, particularly in adolescents going to college. The high school I work at has simultaneously become much more diverse ethnically and raised academic standards significantly. We are one of the most challenging high schools in Central Pa. despite dealing with limited financial resources on a chronic basis. For the most part, I have loved and love working there. The kids are great. And I mean that. Very appreciative, even the ones who have had hard lives.  We have a wonderful staff, too.  

So, here I am in Columbia. I am sensing that God wants me to invest more in the town. Recently, two teens shot a rifle at police officers from a window sniper-like . Fortunately, they were poor shots. It made national news; my dad heard about it up in New York. It is symptomatic of kids who have no hope to do something so dangerous and downright dumb. They are going to spend a good chunk of the next decade or two behind bars.  It makes me wonder how such amoral behavior can exist without being corrected along the way. If killing is wrong, and it is, it doesn't matter who is on the receiving end. A cop, a citizen of color.     

At the Beer Fest in Columbia proper on Saturday (the town closed down Locust Street) two cops were wearing bullet-proofs vests. It was about 100 degrees and under a hot and harsh sun.  They looked miserable despite the stiff and sweaty upper lips. The tickets were pricey. 40 bucks. I decided to bite to bullet and pay up to help the town out. Not entirely altruistic of course but I am not a huge fan of all you can drink day events because my cheapness leads me to want to get my money's worth--like going to a greasy Chinese Buffet--which then makes me in danger of over-consumption.

I took a long break in the middle of the event to smoke a seriously powerful cigar, my former wife used to term it "switching vices" because smoking a stogie slows down my beer drinking. But I paid for the cigar yesterday on the mountain  biking trail where I got crushed up on the rocks of Bald Eagle State Park. I flipped my bike, and generally got whupped on all day. It was a fine chastisement for the day before. I didn't cross the edge on Saturday drink-wise or cigar-wise but I think I was close enough to see the edge...let us put it that way. I think it was more the cigar than anything. I almost coughed up a lung yesterday. The wooden cigar box on it has a carving of a skull on it so I should have taken the hint. These are no playthings in the hands of a novice like me. The real deal.   

So, the FB picture at the top of the blog is of Columbia proper, my hometown. A place that has seen the hard rain of decay and the harsh sun of society's pooh-bahs deciding to outsource jobs to countries that treat people like spare, replaceable, and expendable parts. I want to be part of bringing back that pot of gold to the town and thus have decided to forgo my vacation this week to Maine so that I can funnel my money here. Put my money where my mouth is...

I am Columbia...