Lake Merritt is Covered by a Cosmopolitan Canopy
Growing up in Antioch, California, in the 1990’s, I was hardly exposed to the diversity that is the Bay Area. As indicated by my parents’ choice of residence, I lived a relatively sheltered life and therefore was already in my late 20’s by the time I discovered Lake Merritt, located in Oakland, California. “As established by state law on March 18, 1870, Lake Merritt is the nation’s oldest wildlife refuge; home to thousands of shrimp, fish, clams, crabs, sponges, copepods, tubeworms, tunicates, geese, ducks, songbirds, raptors, gulls, grebes, herons, pelicans, fox squirrels, opossum, an occasional deer a few turkeys, and people. Lake Merritt, which is actually a tidal lagoon, is named after Dr. Samuel Merritt, a medical doctor that came west during the Gold Rush. According to LakeMerrittInstitute.org, Lake Merritt was probably formed in the late Pleistocene era, more than 10,000 years ago” (LakeMerrittInstitute.org).
I had moved into a lovely 2-bedroom apartment with my sister in 2010, just one block off The Lake (as it’s affectionately known). We had a full view of The Lake from our balcony and I instantly fell in love during our first walk-through of the space; we signed the lease almost immediately! In hindsight, I now realize I had stepped foot into the “cosmopolitan canopy” that is Lake Merritt, before I even knew such a term existed. But what exactly is a “cosmopolitan canopy”? According to Elijah Anderson in his essay of the same name, a cosmopolitan canopy can be described as “heterogeneous and densely populated bounded public spaces within cities that offer a respite from this wariness, settings where a diversity of people can feel comfortable enough to relax their guard and go about their business more causally…people are encouraged to treat others with a certain level of civility or at least simply to behave themselves” (15). Upon reading this passage in Anderson’s essay, it became clear to me the sort of place he was describing: Lake Merritt! Everything about it fostered relaxation, which in turn allowed diverse residents from all over the Bay Area to congregate and become familiar with one another in a non-threatening manner.
After the few weeks it took to settle in to my new place, I wandered out into the neighborhood to “meet” my new neighbors. I had never seen such an assortment of creativity in one place. Within the first few minutes of my walk, I saw people from ages 1–100 engaging with one another. People of all ethnicities had gathered around some local musicians and were totally engrossed in their music; a drum circle was performing; their disarming beats had the crowd mesmerized, myself included. Much to my surprise, many of the onlookers were dancing. Even to an unexperienced eye, one could tell that these were not professional dancers, but they allowed themselves to freely move to the music; no judgment here.
Not much further than the drum circle, one had the opportunity to attempt a meditation session. Just another example of the tone set by this cosmopolitan canopy. Meditation, as I have always known it, is a very private practice and is usually done in the confines of one’s own home or an indoor studio. However, I believe the availability of this option served a very intentional purpose in setting the tone of welcoming at The Lake. “When diverse people are eating one another’s food, strangers in the abstract can become somewhat more human and social good is performed for those observing. As people become intimate
through such shared experience, certain barriers are prone to be broken” (Anderson 17). Although in the scenario I described above, there was no food involved, something much more intimate was taking place. People, presumably strangers, were sitting close to one another, in a wide-open space, seeking to center themselves. (Out of respect, I refrained from taking pictures of the participants and, instead, chose to capture a picture of a visual aid provided to those who wished to participate). By setting the standard of trust amongst strangers, other strangers gained a sense of trust amongst one another.
Feel like picnicking and reconnecting with your friends after a long week? You’re welcome to do so at The Lake, too. This is most likely where “people carry on their business but also engage in folk ethnography and formulate or find evidence for their folk theories about others with whom they share the public space” (Anderson 21). While most people lunching on the lawn are usually pairs or small groups, already familiar with each other, occasionally, one might find themselves as part of a larger group where there are fewer familiar faces. This allows you the opportunity to either renounce some stereotypes you’ve long held onto or cling to them tighter. The idea is that you’ve exposed yourself to something other than the familiar and can make more informed decisions about your beliefs.
After a nice lunch on the lawn, you might have a bit of energy stored up and maybe you feel like slacklining! I remember the first time I was offered a try on the slackline. Like many of my explorations at The Lake began, I was aimlessly wandering around on a beautiful, sunny day. I stopped to watch some very talented slackliners with impeccable balance effortlessly traverse from one end of the line to the other. Seeing how interested I was, they summoned me to give it a try. To this day, I’m still surprised that I made the effort; I am extremely shy and hardly ever engage with strangers, let alone involving activities with which I have zero familiarity, but in this cosmopolitan canopy, I felt comfortable enough to do it, and I thoroughly enjoyed it! I wasn’t nearly as capable as those that regularly practiced, but that was of no importance here; Lake Merritt was my cosmopolitan canopy. As Anderson states, so eloquently in his essay and therefore describes my feelings in the scenario above, “The ambience is decidedly ‘laid-back,’ and in navigating the quasi-public spaces here, there is little sense of obligation to the next person other than common civility. Visitors leave with the memory of a good experience and are likely to return another day, perhaps to relive an otherwise uneventful and pleasant experience” (21). Despite my reluctance to participate, I felt an obligation to show these strangers that I was gracious enough to accept their challenge; I, like them, was a human reaching out, beyond simple civility to the point of making a connection.
I often wonder who I would be if I never lived in Oakland at Lake Merritt; what Oakland would be if Lake Merritt didn’t exist as a social meeting place. What if Lake Merritt wasn’t what it is today? When I think of The Lake, there are always fond memories. Memories of family gatherings, of sunny, wintry walks, always taking in my surroundings. I believe my experiences at The Lake softened my view of Oakland. The worldview of Oakland is one of hostility and depravity, poverty and danger. Living in Oakland, and in the Lake Merritt neighborhood more specifically, allowed me to create my own folk ethnography. As with any city in the world, there are unsavory areas, and Oakland is no different, but engaging in Lake activities on a regular basis allowed me to understand the delicate balance of Oakland life. Yes, there is crime, but there is also a sense of community and inclusion; The Lake showed me these things and allowed me to view it up-close and personal, so that I could create my own folk theories. In turn, I can spread the word to my fellow Bay Area denizens so that they can independently encounter “The Jewel of Oakland”, the cosmopolitan canopy that is Lake Merritt, in Oakland, California.
Works Cited
“About Lake Merritt”. Lake Merritt Institute. LakeMerrittInstitute.org/about_lake.htm. 8 May 2017
Anderson, Elijah. “The Cosmopolitan Canopy.” Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, vol. 595, September 2004, pp. 14–31.
