Miami: Why I’ve Stayed (or, #305tilidie)
Amidst pop-up mango and avocado stands on sides of the road, the sweetest cafe con leche sold out of windows, and where it’s normal to find everything explained in not only Spanish, but also Creole, there hides what often feels like a harsh and guarded city. In between coconut trees, Key Biscayne and incredible sunsets, exists flakiness, road rage and a hesitancy to smile.
Miami.
The city that raised me. The city that natives love to leave, love to declare that once we are gone, we will never come back and definitely not raise our kids here. The city where transplants from the north escape from harsh winters and then constantly ask me, “What is everyone’s problem here? Why the flakiness? Why the rudeness?”. The city where many transplants give up when the rent continues to raise and potential “friends” consistently flake out. The city that often feels lonely.
I once left and internally vowed I would never return. I went to Tampa, a land where folks smile, greet you kindly in restaurants and allow you to merge into their lane. As my 20s went on, I traveled to “better” cities and dreamt of life out of Florida. DC, Portland, New York, Boston. Like a land flowing with milk and honey and opportunities would abound for a young biracial woman like me.
Lands where surely I would thrive professionally, emotionally and spiritually. Lands where I would find more of God.
I used to believe God was absent from Miami. When I would return for family visits, my spirit struggled to believe God was at work in a city so harsh.
Four years later today, marking the day I broke my vow and returned to my city, Miami still feels difficult. I would be lying if I said I’ve never wanted to leave again. Heavy traffic, a housing crisis and perpetual rudeness from strangers wears on the soul. Flakiness wears on the soul.
In this desert, however, I have found that my God is not absent.
He is here, at work in small but powerful ways.
In the desert is where I have learned to cry out for a deeper faith. In the struggles of wondering where Jesus is when so much corruption happens in my city everyday, he is here. I see him through ordinary folks who know how to love well, who choose to have hope for a city that others called hopeless, who bless rude strangers rather than curse. I see him through the college students I work with, who labor to bring hope and light into dark places on the campuses of our city. I see God through Christians who choose to stay in a city that is hard rather than go somewhere that feels easier because we remember Jesus said if we follow Him, we will join in his sufferings.
For the Jesus followers, life is not about the pursuit of comfort and safety. A life surrendered to Jesus requires sacrifice, hope, and being called to places that may make us uncomfortable.
Yet He promised to be with us. He has been faithful even as I have struggled to love my city.
In the desert, I have found a God who has been able to make streams of water here, when many said it would never happen.
I stay in Miami because I am called here. I stay because God has shown me the value of my city. People are what create a city and I believe my people are valuable. They deserve to know the sweet, gracious love God has for them. I am not naive to the realities of my city, but my hope is not in my own gifts or efforts. My hope is in God’s transformative love and what a joy to see folks being made new in Miami, over and over again by this love story. I believe God’s love can change and redeem a culture of a city and I am seeing it break in, day by day.
I stay because this city is beautiful. Mango and avocado trees fill our backyards, arepas and empanadas are the norm and we enjoy the beach in January. We are surrounded by incredible views of the water, culinary goodness is common, and our local parks are beautiful. We are offered complimentary Cuban coffee everywhere from the mall to the commissioner’s office. Art covers our city, not only in museums, but outside, too. Museums honor and share the stories of the Haitian and Cuban communities of Miami, revealing the uniqueness of our immigrant city.
I stay because I believe in investing in my city. I want it to be better than what I grew up in and I want my children to see her beauty, not count the days until they can leave for college.
Miami, how will you invest rather than complain? (We are all guilty of this at some point. Own it).
Miami, we get to have a new name. We do not have to be defined by what other cities have called us and even what we have negatively labeled ourselves. We can be and are being made new.
