By Ben Mullin
When I tell another student at Chico State I am from Lucerne, one of two things happen. The first and most common response is confusion.
“Where”s that?” he or she often asks, polite smiles shrinking by a few molars. Because I”m not geographically literate, the conversation screeches to a grinding halt until I say, “Er ? two hours north of here, by Clear Lake.”
Or, if I”m talking to a more worldly student, his/her eyes get really big and they ask me all sorts of oddly specific questions about Europe.
“Really? Lucerne? What are the Alps like?”
Because I have yet to perfect a Swiss accent, my hometown is utterly useless as an icebreaker at parties. No one seems to care that I”m from the biggest freshwater lake located entirely in California, especially when I let it slip that the lake turns electric green in the summer.
In fact, during two semesters of college, I have never met another student who has heard of Lucerne, Calif. ? but I wouldn”t have it any other way.
During my freshman year, I have met people from a lot of different places ? Lake Tahoe, Los Angeles, Sacramento and more towns prefaced with “San” then you can shake a stick at. Though these towns are hundreds of miles and millions of people apart, they all have one thing in common ? they have a reputation.
Whether it”s the West Hills of L.A. or the slums of Oakland, every big city in California is known for something. North, south, rich, poor, trendy or dull, students in college define each other partially by where they are from. Except me. Because I am from nowhere, as far as they are concerned.
Being from Lake County has given me the opportunity to define myself in college without any of the traditional prejudice associated with hometown rivalries. I”m not a King, Laker or Giant. I”m not a valley boy or a city slicker or a bumpkin. Instead, I get defined based on the things I do, rather than the place I hail from. In college, I have found it”s easier to put yourself on the map when no one can find you on theirs.
Of course, being a blank slate also has its downsides. I don”t know any special handshakes, I have trouble driving in the big city, and there”s no catchy slang that goes with my area code. I give way too much of my attention and my parent”s money to street performers, and I had to be eased into the majesty and convenience that is the food-from-trucks industry. But most importantly, coming from a small town means missing out on the instant camaraderie between students that comes with sharing a common culture measured one postal code wide and several skyscrapers tall.
Entertainment, news media, and hundreds of thousands of cars orbit Los Angeles every day. The state”s political system revolves around Sacramento. Way out in Lake County, all we get are rice fly nebulas dotting a bluer-than-blue sky. After my first year of college, I can say with certainty that the world looks bigger from a smaller place. But it”s comforting to know that coming from Lucerne means that the world”s still a big place, full of mystery. And it doesn”t know me yet.
Ben Mullin is a Lake County native and an English/journalism student attending California State University, Chico. He will spend his summer as a contributor to the Record-Bee.
