When I say I’m from Memphis, I say it with pride. I used to shy away from revealing my hometown but not anymore. You know the giddy feeling you get when you’ve been out of town for a while, and you land in Memphis? I feel that now, sitting on Otherlands’ patio as I’m writing this.
There are two men sitting across from me. I don’t think they know each other, but one is telling the other about his new porch extension and the other is nodding politely as he sips his coffee. He offers the occasional “how much did that cost?” or “wow, man.”
I wonder on any given day how many random conversations like this happen around the city. The friendly conversations that strangers share are just one thing that I miss when I’m away.
I’ve been living in Washington, D.C., for almost a year now. I moved there for grad school and not a day goes by that I don’t miss my city. The longer I’m gone, the more I appreciate being a Memphian.
When some people think of Memphis, they might think of the crime rate or a random First 48 episode they saw once. Or some might think of Graceland or even Ja Morant.
But for me, Memphis is more than its problems, a tourist spot, or our franchise basketball player. It’s a special place. It’s a mecca of culture. It’s a town of relentless people who wear their passion on their sleeves.
Maybe it’s the city’s history and the trials and tribulations people here have had to overcome. From the sanitation workers’ strike to the library sit-ins, Memphians have always given their all when it matters and in the face of injustice. The unwavering work, along with the blood, sweat, and tears of the Memphians that came before us was not in vain.
My cousin, who is based in Wisconsin, recently came to visit and was awed by the sheer diversity and integration of the city. As we sat at Jerry’s eating our supreme sno-cones, she noticed a young Black man and an older white woman having a conversation. He asked about her dog, and she told him all about him (perhaps more than he cared to know).
“Wow. Y’all really intermigle here,” my cousin commented. “I love this.”
Her comment caught me off guard. Maybe because I’ve lived here my whole life, I’m used to it. But it’s true. Memphians are different. We are unique. We have a special kind of heart and soul. The way that Memphians support and root for each other is unmatched. The way we stand up for those in need here in Memphis and beyond is unparalleled.
I first noticed it when activists took the bridge in 2016, and more recently with the protest against Asian-American hate and the rally in solidarity with Palestinians.
From the artists and musicians to the activists and the community leaders, Memphis is full of grit-and-grinders making their mark on the city and making change where needed.
I believe we are basking in the dawn of a new day. High noon has not yet come, but we are well on the way. Memphis still has its issues. But it also has the potential to be a city of hope and a beacon of light for the rest of the state, if not the country.
And now is not the time to be complacent or settle for a “good” city. It’s the time to keep moving forward until the sun is peeking in the sky for every person in this city.
Until every child has the opportunity to receive an adequate education and a fair chance at success, we have work to do. Until the unhoused are safe and secure in a home, we have work to do. Until every Memphian is treated fairly by the police, we have work to do. Until every Memphian is prospering, we have work to do.
In the meantime, I will hold my head up high, stick my chest in the air, and proclaim I’m from Memphis. I am Memphis AF and proud of it.
Maya Smith is a D.C.-based reporter and former Flyer staff writer.
