Cartography

“The key assumption of our course has been that the sense of place can be narrated.”
-Dr. Zoran Kuzmanovich, Final Exam for “The City Novel”

I’ve realized recently that I put a lot of importance on that sense of place Dr Kuzmanovich was talking about. I feel most at home in a place when I know how to navigate it, both physically and (for lack of a better word) socially. Or, to push the metaphor in a slightly different direction, I want to know the both actual landscape and the human landscape of a place as well as I can.

My work this summer put me in much better touch with those landscapes in Davidson and the larger Lake Norman Region. I will, with slight embarrassment, admit that six months ago I still struggled to remember whether it was Mooresville or Huntersville to the north, and my major landmark in that direction was the Cookout at Exit 36 (but truth be told, that’s still my most frequent destination in Mooresville). Four months ago, if I got stuck in traffic at Exit 33 or 25, I would have to wait in the deadlock, but now I’m liberated from 77 (or as liberated as one can be from the Interstate in Davidson). After two years in and around Davidson, I finally feel like I know the landscape.

Being a Bonner has always given me a view of our area bigger than that of Davidson Bubble, but this summers work made me much more aware of the connections between the organizations and the kinds of problems they face. I’m convinced that nothing but graduation can break that bubble, and my work this summer didn’t put me outside the bubble in the visceral way that actually working with those in need often can. Even so, my work expanded the map in my head of the world of non-profits in and around Davidson beyond Ada Jenkins and the Davidson Housing Coalition, and gave me a much better sense of the challenges those nonprofits face. So maybe the better map metaphor here is that my map of Davidson is now more intricately shaded with the successes and challenges of the groups that try to help those in need, rather than that my map actually encompasses a greater area.

These musings on place seem particularly appropriate as I sit perched on the edge of departure to a place that is completely new to me, and where I will only be staying for three months. No one needs to reiterate the benefits of study abroad to me, and (discounting my paranoia that my passport or some other crucial piece of documentation will disappear in the next 36 hours) I’m more excited about this semester than sixth-grade James was about a new Star Wars movie. But I will admit that there was a part of me that felt like I was leaving behind a set of responsibilities when my job ended and I disappeared at the end of August. Or, to put it another way, this coming semester creates a conflict between the Wendell Berry in me and the Lord Byron in me. We’ll see who wins.