“Wow, you moved here from Memphis?”
“There was this BBQ shop in an old white garage with bright yellow slaw…”
“What’s the name of the juke joint with the burgers outside of downtown?”
“We went there for a wedding and on Tuesday we were still there…”
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Memphis generates great stories, the kind of stories and experiences that stick with people for years. Six weeks ago I moved from Memphis to Austin and in that short time, I’ve met a number of people and casually mentioned that I moved here from Memphis. Their eyes get big, their mouth drops and they get shifty from excitement. The reaction is visible, but the praise which follows is more telling.
I’ve heard stories about ball games, BBQ expeditions across the city, bands playing in Elvis’ former dojo, post wedding revelers commandeering trolleys and ending up in dimly lit upstairs bars, and other tales that are better left untold here.
Several things that were noticeably absent from each of the stories were references to crime, race relations, poverty, fractured political structures, and fear — all the things that we wear on our sleeves as reasons we will never excel and feed our city’s lack of confidence.
What was common in each of the stories was an admiration for a city that has more to offer if its own citizens would give it credit. There were romantic undertones of a river town with grit, and soul, and texture that distinguish Memphis from so many of the cities that we claim we can’t compete with. People spoke repeatedly of the kindness of Memphians, how “real” the city is, and how they would love to go back. Most importantly there was a clear declaration that Memphis is cool!
The cynics may dismiss this as “…they didn’t spend enough time here to understand how backwards this city is” or “Memphis is a good place to visit but you don’t want to live here.” I would argue that those cynics don’t get it. They fail to realize the great potential that is just under the surface of Memphis, and they certainly don’t share the deep respect that so many in Austin have for the Bluff City.
Someone projecting confidence is more likely to realize success. I think this theory can be extrapolated to citizenry as a whole. Memphis has a self-confidence problem. Whether this issue of “esteem” surfaces as general malaise among the locals or is projected to a much larger audience by anonymous reader comments on the local newspaper’s Web site, the naysayers are compounding the inertia that impedes progress. It has become easy to blame “Memphis” for civic laziness and unwillingness to change, and this lack of self-confidence is a serious obstruction to moving Memphis forward.
The people I’ve met so far in Austin realize the potential we have, why can’t we?
As for me… I can’t wait to get back home.
Well said. Memphis definitely has a self-esteem problem. I feel sometimes like this city is the homely girl in the movies who is seen as beautiful as soon as she takes off her glasses. As a non-native Memphian, I want all of the natives to take off their glasses and see how awesome their city is.
It’s encouraging to know people think so highly of our city. Our city is scrappy and has such personality. Thanks for the reminder to look at the beautiful side of Memphis. It’s so easy to get lost in the poverty and spiral from there. Come back soon.
The city definitely has soul and a lot of upside. Unfortunately it is the downside the gets so many of the headlines. Politics, and such aside, families will make the real difference here. Pray for the city. Kids have to stop having kids. The violence that stems from the broken homes and fatherless environs has a spiritual root. The same thing is going on in Chicago, Detroit and New Orleans. Pray for the kids. Pray for those who can make a real difference in these kids lives, teachers, counselors, and others that can break the cycle and put this city back together one family at at time.