by Tanea Lunsford

My journey to New York has been everything I envisioned while applying in my senior year of high school. I had dreams of blending in with the scenery and feel confident that I now fit into the backdrop of this beautiful city. Although I still have many more goals to achieve and many more things to see I still am thrilled with taking one train downtown to see the lights in Times Square, which I watched for years in movies and on television or walking out of my dorm room and into the snow (which I have only seen on trips to Tahoe with my family). This city is very much an adventure in itself and I have to remind myself everyday that I live here now. I have to remind myself to take advantage of all that this city hides and has to offer all at once.

My first months at Columbia University were met with optimism and some plain old homesickness. However, with the quickening pace of my classes and the cooling of the weather I found a groove in the high paced lifestyle that is New York (even felt here on the Upper West Side). I have taken classes that taught me things I had no idea I would be interested in and other classes that I still lack interest in. School work was a refuge for me in the past wherein home life was more of a challenge than my homework could ever be. However, here I have my own space, my own schedule, and my own choices to make. My family is the most supportive family I have ever seen and although they are on the other side of the country they are very much a part of my new life here.

I can't exactly put my finger on what is different about this place than home (though San Francisco is still my favorite city) but I can hear things going on outside my window before I wake up and hear them continuing while I attempt to go to sleep. There is always an adventure here, seemingly waiting for me and the thrill of it ensures that I chose the right place to be. When I go home I miss New York and when I am here I miss San Francisco, they are both home to me so I've written a poem about each of them.

San Francisco
you are good
you are home
you are rubbing noses with the tender
as the hardworking
hi-ho heaving up your rolling hills

those with the Notre Dame backs
keep bending
cranking your control box
maintaining
the wonderment of your ocean
your bay
your bridges and
rolling hills

the tourists “click clack”
in their foreign languages
rocks thrown on a tin roof
and you accept them
because they bring dollars with them
they keep your hills rolling
your bays glinting and winking in the sunlight

such a charmer you are,
San Francisco
calling and leaving me messages
you wont let up

your sea lions speak my name in a chant at the pier
and your fog writes me letters I imagine said in a whisper
I miss you

-Tanea Lunsford

New York
Police sirens sound the same everywhere
Each morning I wake up three hours earlier
than I would like to
And I remind myself that this is a self-imposed adventure

I try my best not to lose the rhythm:
the rhythm in my walk
the bobbing and weaving
of keep my head above the street lights
of crossing before the taxis see me
speed up

I try not to fall between the cracks
try not to step on them
so that my mother doesn't break her back
back in California

-Tanea Lunsford