by
Nearly a year ago, I decided to come to Columbia University. Or if you go by its official name, Columbia University in the City of New York. The metropolis is such a large part of the identity of Columbia in particular, and of the media world as as whole. Countless news organizations have had and still have their headquarters here, from Frank Leslie's Illustrated Weekly to Joseph Pulitzer's New York World to the three major television networks and the contemporary paper of record, The New York Times.
New York has a particular allure about it that draws some Californians like myself. Those of us from the Left Coast stare eastward in wonder, trying to understand the grittiness of the Bronx, the glitz of Times Square, and the grandeur of Central Park. The band They Might Be Giants captured the idea.
[TMBG fade up, hold, fade down]
As I prepared to go to New York, part of me was excited, but there was one problem: I already have a monogomous relationship with another city. I really did leave my heart in San Francisco. My years as an undergraduate at the University of California, Berkeley infused me with an undying love for the Bay Area. I love Berkeley's lingering hippiedom, the outdoor cafés, the green hills and their redwood forests.
It's not that I was afraid of the world beyond the Golden State -- I'm only 23 years old, and I've already lived on four continents. Last summer, as I prepared to come to New York, my friends were excited for me, but I just couldn't get into it.
I'd already been to many of the tourist sites as a kid. I scoffed when I heard that $6 was standard for a bridge toll, that $20 was normal for a meal and that $50 was considered cheap to drop on a Broadway show. I sighed when my parents -- who have never lived in New York themselves -- told me that in New York, my standard casual attire of shorts and sandals wasn't going to fly. I even showed up to an event in Oakland last May for new students dressed like that. But I was the only one. My California neighbors were already shedding their roots, and adopting the New York uniform of suits and ties.
But after I arrived, I started getting to know my classmates. I met a charismatic Kenyan who had spent time in Montana. I met a student who had come all the way from war-torn Baghdad, and who I soon invited to spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with me and my family. I even met a critically-thinking Yankee fan who was willing to watch post-season baseball with me in a bar filled with members of the Red Sox Nation.
My classmates surprised me with their stories, their curiosity, and their intellect. I adore the like-minded people that are here with me, navigating this media capital of the world. I've now realized that I'd been listening to the wrong part of the song this whole time.
[TMBG fade up, down and out]
"Cause everyone's my friend in New York City . . . the best thing about New York City is: you and me."
Since I've been here, I've had some amazing opportunities. Shortly after I arrived, I set up a meeting with the editor of the Circuits section of The New York Times. A few weeks later, I had my first piece published. A few months later, I got to meet Seymour Hersh, the legendary investigative reporter. And now I'm enrolled in the competitive book class, which has a track record of turning a few good ideas into a full-fledged books every year.
I'm headed back to my beloved California in exactly six weeks. If there's anything that I've learned since I began my nine month fling with New York, it's that what makes a city great, truly great in the absolute sense is the fact that large numbers of different people living in a small area, like Manhattan, or the San Francisco peninsula makes for a vibrant city. Bohemians living next door to the Italians, adjacent to Chinatown and a stone's throw from the Financial District makes both cities beautiful.
But I can't have both of them. So I'm going back to my first love.
[Tony Bennett fade up, down and up again]