![]()

Walking down a hallway of any University of Michigan dorm, the diversity is almost staggering.
Few other places, it seems, could boast representatives from cities as different as Midland or Miami, states as unique as Ohio or California, or countries as singular as Canada or Columbia.
College dorms are a cosmopolitan's paradise.
And then there are the exceptions. In select halls, along with every New Yorker, every Hawaiian and every Russian, there is the inevitable non-cosmopolitan. The native of Ann Arbor.
![]() |
|
Chris Farah
Farah's |
As a freshman, I had to put up with the distinction afforded such a rare specimen. As newcomers introduced themselves, followed usually by gasps of amazement at the exoticism of their places of origin, my announcement that I was from Ann Arbor was most often met by a dull stare. Perhaps if I got lucky, the disinterested soul would mutter "Oh," or even, on a good day, "Really, you're from Ann Arbor?"
It got to the point where I was actually embarrassed to say I was from Ann Arbor. I tried to avoid the topic of my background as much as possible.
When I was somehow forced to admit to my roots, I would stare at the ground and lower my voice so the words that slipped out were barely perceptible. Quite possibly, there are people I met my freshman year who still think I am from some strange, unknown city called something like "Anberber."
A while ago, however, all this changed drastically.
No, I didn't alter my birth certificate records or create a phony identity. Instead, I started to realize that there are certain advantages to being from Ann Arbor.
The more I got to know the people I met at the University - people from as far away as New York and as close as the suburbs of Detroit - the more I understood that they really knew nothing about the city they called home for at least 2/3 of the year. And because they knew very little, at the same time they weren't really able to appreciate everything Ann Arbor has to offer.
The average University of Michigan student knows approximately this much about living in Ann Arbor: Where classes are held; where good parties are held; where the bars are; where decent restaurants are; where the closest Meijer or Krogers is located (though this last one applies only if they are very knowledgeable and have a car).
Some lucky out-of-towners manage to find their way to the Arb for a peaceful afternoon stroll, or some may wind up at the Fleetwood Diner for a snack at two o'clock in the morning. But for most, Ann Arbor functionally consists of just that section bordered by State, Washington, South University and Hill.
I'm not saying that, in four years here, it should be the goal of every student to know every business, every restaurant and every nook and cranny of the entire city of Ann Arbor. Obviously that's impossible.
But the wrong approach to take is one that thinks of Ann Arbor as just a stop along the path of life - just a temporary watering hole - as opposed to a place that should hold all the fullness characteristic of one's true home.
Think about what makes your home special to you. It's family and friends, but it's also places. It's having those little parts of town that hold some kind of significance to you - and only you. Maybe somewhere you could go when you feel like thinking or being alone, or maybe someplace you shared with someone you were close to.
For me, these places consist of parts of Ann Arbor - parts which often are never even noticed by many students. A rope swing on Barton Pond - only a 10 minute bike ride from downtown - or the bench in front of a pattern of rocks crisscrossing the Huron River as it snakes through the Arb... The list could go on and on.
There's nothing really unusual about these places, they just mean something to me. They aren't really hidden or magic in any way - in fact, they can be found by any U of M student who decides to live - actually live - in Ann Arbor. They are parts of Ann Arbor that are unique to the city but can easily be discovered and appreciated if one chooses to search beyond the shops of South University and State, or explore beyond frat houses and Hill Auditorium.
Finding your own niche in the city - something you can call your own - will allow you to truly call Ann Arbor your own. And then when out-of-towners, friends or family, visit you from your old home, you can say that you're from Ann Arbor now - and you won't have to stare at the ground and mumble imperceptibly when you say it.
-- Chris Farah is a Daily sports writer. You can reach him over e-mail at cjfarah@umich.edu.
09-03-97
should be sent to: daily.letters@umich.edu | should be sent to: online.daily@umich.edu |