The very real prospect that we will be moving somewhere new and starting fresh has really managed to mess with my head these past few weeks. It seems silly, to be sure, but the best possible way that I can explain it is as though moving is breaking up with a loved one. I've grown attached to this area in a lot of ways, even beyond the whole leaving-friends-behind thing. I like Akron, and I'm not terribly thrilled to leave.
The notion of being attached to a place is nothing new. People have been territorial as long as people have existed. Relatively obscure geographer Yi-Fu Tuan noted defined topophilia as "to include all emotional connections between physical environment and human beings." I'm not necessarily a fan of Tuan, because I think he's got some real weaknesses in how he sees the world and how he reports on space. He calls his work "humanist geography" and situates the author as being primary to any work, which simultaneously promotes and denies universality of experience... but I digress. Tuan's on to something with this.
However, Tuan's notion that this love of place comes from the physical environment is notably limited. Indeed, I find many things about Akron's environment to be attractive, including the rolling hills, the valleys, the vistas, the trees and so on. But to infer that love of place comes only from the physical environment is much akin to saying that love of person only comes from physical appearance. Certainly, such a lust for space can be found in particularly beautiful environments, like coastal areas and mountains. These are places that people decide to live sometimes without regard to any other factor that could contribute to an easier occupancy. Of course, this kind of environment does not exist in Akron.
The place's character and experience must also be considered. Indeed, even the environment of Akron has been changed by experience. The city is marked with decaying industrial complexes, cultural institutions, somewhat ridiculous installations of infrastructure, all of which I find to be pleasing and intellectually stimulating. But again, this isn't everything.
An additional component to love comes later in the relationship, when experiences together in recent memory begin to weigh equally or outweigh those experiences existing prior. This is, of course, true with romantic relationships as well, as love changes to one of initial excitement to one of shared experience. Point is, I've had a pretty good three years in Akron. For me, the last three years have been chock-full of positive things, and Akron has served as the seemingly necessary backdrop to these accomplishments. Think about this: when you experience certain memorable things in your life, how easy is it to divorce those experiences from the location in which they took place? It's nearly impossible.
These experiences have put a perception in my mind that Akron is a very good place, even though these experiences are almost entirely social in nature and have very little to do with the location in which they took place. Combine that with a nice environment, and I'm pretty happy in this relationship.
But then, the breakup. A couple of things are at play here as well. For one, the very pertinent fact that I'm not choosing when to leave this place is looming large in my mind. Just like how getting dumped is so much worse than dumping someone, I feel like this place has somehow rejected me, and I despise the fact that I didn't get to write the script to my own exit from this place.
Beyond this, of course, is the mystery ahead. Though things could be better in various ways here, I am quite content at this point in Akron. Now, that contentedness is being completely uprooted, and we're destined for an unknown place, an unknown quantity and an unknown roster of future experiences. Just like a relationship that's "good enough," it's scary to get away from that comfort, that stability for the great unknown that is the single scene, with that additional inherently terrifying notion that the next relationship could be not nearly as beneficial.
Right now, we have no idea where we're going to end up. That not-knowing has been devastating to my needs for stability. I'm a creature of habit who thrives on routine and stability. Without this, everything else goes down the toilet. I've now applied to nine places, and I'm working on three more applications. I've not heard anything but simply that the application has been received from any of these yet. I have high hopes for a couple, but I can't hold my breath.
With these things in mind, I've slowly been coming to grips with the fact that we're leaving Akron for good. I guess I've been going through the five stages of mourning, to some extent, though not necessarily in order:
1. Denial. I've certainly had trouble coming to grips with the fact that this is happening. As I procrastinate valuable seconds away that I could be working on my dissertation, I tell myself that I have plenty of time to get things finished. I assume that I have classes to prepare for fall, and more than once have I looked up the courses offered by the department to see which one I've been assigned.
2. Anger. This one came quickly and still lingers sometimes. Perhaps the most frustrating thing is that I don't really have anyone in particular to blame. It wasn't the department's fault because they got fucked by funding changes and no one really (supposedly) ever gets a fourth year. It's the fault of some faceless administrator that I can't tell off for worries of ruining my academic future. It is partially my fault because I took too long to figure out what I wanted to do. But, hating myself for this only breeds problems. I've tried to focus this into my writing, which has taken a far more pointed tone lately. I've also focused this energy into applying for jobs, an "I'll show you" approach to the probem, since obviously if some school who knows nothing about me thinks my teaching is worth $40,000, then Kent is stupid to give up my services offered for $11,000 plus tuition.
Of course, this has also manifested in the fact that lately, I've grown quite averse to Akron's climate, which I had never really cared about in so many terms before. I've heard myself mutter obscenities about 320 days of cloudcover, and all the fucking snow. I like snow! I've also started to hate our house the past couple of weeks, because the yard is now too small and too muddy, the driveway sucks, the mailman is a loser who never brings mail, we're too close to our neighbors, the living room is too small, the kitchen is inefficient, the bills are too high, the walls are too white, the basement leaks too much and so on. None of these things ever bothered me before, either!
3. Bargaining. This came early on as well, coupling with denial. I offered myself in any capacity to the department that I could think of. I typed up a self-promotional thing to help the department find some work for me. I tried to figure out ways to live on nothing for a year (impossible) and other ways to stay around. I looked briefly for local jobs (there are none). I wanted to stay, and I tried to find a way.
4. Depression. Ah, yes. My good old friend. Welcome back, buddy! It's so good to see you again! Yep, this was most of my last three weeks. Obviously, this was all a result of me being somehow insufficient. I mean, they've known me here for three years... if they don't want me back, there's a good reason. It's nice how old and thought-to-be-banished insecurities can quickly come rushing back, despite of any accomplishment.
5. Acceptance. Yes, in some ways, I've arrived here. The fact that I'm applying for jobs is evidence that I'm getting somewhere with accepting my fate. I'm realizing that there are a lot of things in this area that I wanted to do before we moved that we're simply not going to ever get to do... Like visiting the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the Inventors' Hall of Fame or the Football Hall of Fame... Visiting the art museums in Akron or Cleveland... Hitting a baseball game at Jacobs Field or PNC Park... or a Pittsburgh Penguins game. I've also realized that the name of this blog will very soon have to change, or it just won't make any fucking sense. Radio Free Akron if I live in, say, Oklahoma City (not a place I've applied, by the way), would be utterly ridiculous. I've got a couple of ideas for a new concept/theme, but I want to wait to see how things pan out. I'm accepting that this change is real, that I've just got to get through teaching two more classes and writing a dissertation to be done here, that for all the sudden hatred I spewed earlier for the house and the climate, that it's an inevitable change that's coming. I'm accepting that this crew of foster dogs, Stanley, Gertrude and Sophie, will be our last for a while because it would be completely irresponsible to take any more in with moving on the horizon.
I still haven't accepted that the coming change is going to be a positive. It might not be. I looked at government jobs tonight and decided that such a path would be as productive as throwing myself off a bridge. Looking at the list of academc places I've applied, some of them are probably a step backwards in terms of standards of living and whatnot. But, that happens. Acceptance.
None of them will be Akron, though, which is a crucial hang-up. I do love Akron, and it's been good to me, and leaving that sucks. The blow of the breakup will be softened substantially when I figure out that a place wants me. Then, where ever it is, I can bargain with my own brain to convince myself that I'm making a good move, a trade up. Isn't that what rebound relationships are all about, remembering self-worth, and proving to oneself that better things are to come? (Almost all of these positions are one-year slots, hence the rebound comparison.)
I hope so. I'm just really ready for some news, one way or another. I need something to help the breakup continue, even just a flirtation from an attractive potential match... otherwise, I might overthink myself into oblivion.
