What is a Detroiter?

This is a topic of conversation some say is overdone, and some think there probably isn’t an answer. It’s something I’ve been thinking quite frequently as of late and it really came to a head at an event I went to a few days ago: I was here.

This panel, which was more of a discussion among several attendees and the panelists than it was a lecture of sorts, gave a platform for life-long Detroiters to express their stories and opinions. For those who aren’t already aware, this concept of “new Detroit” vs. “old Detroit” is a pervasive one. (I suggest you click the link, but at the very least I’ll drop the music video at the center of the article here for you).

This concept of so-called revitalization undoubtedly involves race, it involves classism, it involves history, it involves corruption; it involves all of the messy stuff.

I know personally, I never called myself a Detroiter growing up. In no way did it have anything to do with a sense of shame of the city – I’ve always felt the opposite, actually – but it was because I felt I didn’t have the “right” to call myself one. I wasn’t born and raised in Detroit, and I wasn’t living there for the first 23 years of my life. The perception I’ve always had was the title of Detroiter belonged to those alone with what I guess I can describe as the trifecta: you were born in Detroit, raised in Detroit, and you lived in Detroit.

However, that definition wasn’t exactly concrete even to me. You see, my parents were born and raised in Detroit. They lived in Southwest for the entirety of their single existence (my dad really bachelor-ed it up well into his 30s. What a wild one he is). When they got married they moved to Allen Park, my hometown. If we are getting technical here, there isn’t a hospital in Allen Park I could have been born in, so I don’t even get to say “born and raised in AP.” My point is – my parents have always been Detroiters to me. I’ve never questioned it.

It wasn’t until recently I’ve come to realize others might question it. Those individuals who have stayed here through everything – by choice or because they didn’t have the resources to leave my parents did – are they considered more of a Detroiter than my parents? Do these people have more clout? Should they? Answers are varied and often divisive. My personal opinion is the suburbs shouldn’t be demonized while life–long Detroiter voices can’t be squelched; it wasn’t a choice to be born and raised where you were. Yes, my parents made the choice to leave. But I made the choice to come. Am I allowed to call myself a Detroiter?

This seems silly and it’s rather indicative of the times: I posed the question to myself recently when I was on my Instagram account. (@ellentrudell if ya fancy a plug) Since I created the account, my “about me” was: “wannabe auror.” That’s a reference for all the Harry Potter fanatics out there – shout out! Anyway, I had the desire to change it to “wannabe auror; actual Detroiter.”

It gave me pause. I wasn’t sure I could place the distinction on myself. Then I realized I can call myself a Detroiter if I feel I am one, so I did it. I changed it. Before I hit save, I added, (formerly of downriver). When I think about it, there’s no truer way to describe myself.

Maybe one day I’ll feel worthy enough to take out that last part.