There’s No Place Like Home.

To know Brunswick, Georgia is to be from Brunswick, Georgia as it is generally nothing to write home about. Perched on the beautiful coast of the state, it’s an hour south of its rather famous (and for good reason) neighboring city, Savannah. Although some may have heard of St. Simons Island, Jekyll Island, or Sea Island, Brunswick is usually left out, often treated as the red-headed step child of the Golden Isles. We share a county, a government, schools, and resources, but the the difference between the mainland and the islands is impossible to ignore.

Where there is natural beauty, there are people willing to pay big money to live there, so all of the wealthiest people tend to live on the islands. Our kids play together and we work together, but as soon as you drive off the islands’ causeways, reality sets in. The roads become far more rugged, the houses become far smaller, and there are designated neighborhoods for those living in poverty. Poverty has no place on the islands in the eyes of the residents, and as such, the invisible yet impossible-to-miss divide between the Haves and the Have-Nots slaps all who bear witness to it in the face.

Brunswick is reserved for two large mills, both placed in the mainland’s former scenic areas, because when you’re a Have-Not, you deserve both toxic, polluted air to breathe and a depressing eye sore to gaze upon. Brunswick is also home to small businesses, many of which I love and support fully, but most of which have gone out of business almost as quickly as they arrived, leaving behind a delapitated building with the sign of someone’s crushed dreams hanging from the door until another brave soul decides to try their hand at making an honest living. Because we’re unable to support many of our small businesses and cultivate some sort of unique culture where mom-and-pop shop owners are able to thrive, most of Brunswick’s main attractions include corporate businesses. To be frank, it is depressing in comparison to the beautiful islands, and it all has to do with a rather sizeable wealth gap. Not only does Brunswick not compare in prosperity, but it also does not compare in landscape. Although some areas are situated on bodies of water or marshes and are rather beautiful, others are littered with Capitalism’s darling aesthetic of cookie-cutter corporations, such as Walmart and Subway. Once one drives further away from the coast, and out of the main part of the town, Brunswick changes in appearance yet again by turning into long stretches of country. Although I am a fan of the rural south’s natural beauty in terms of landscape, it cannot be denied that the further into the country you drive, the more you find that there is still some tried and true truth to the ugly, oppressive stereotype of the rural south. Confederate flags are more commonplace. Neighborhoods become more racially divided. And there is a subset of people who become more comfortable in their hatred of “the other” and anyone who appears or identifies as being different from themselves in any way. Is this the majority of the people? No, but it would be a disservice to those who are most deeply affected by their antics if I were to pretend like I cannot see it, as so many members of my community do.

Even though Brunswick is my hometown and was once my safety blanket which brought me immense comfort in my childhood home and community, I cannot pretend that it is not also a town that is in need of radical change, re-distribution of wealth, environmental preservation of ALL its landscapes, antiracism education, and deep spiritual healing.

While I have moved away and returned many times in my adulthood, my most recent move back last spring was met with my own resistance. In the past I have generally enjoyed returning home before embarking on my next adventure, but last March, I wanted to be anywhere but home. I wanted to explore a big city by myself and continue in my journey of self-growth and exploration. Yet, as many of us know all too well from experience , the universe had different plans. Begrudgingly, I found myself homeward bound for the unforseable future just as coronavirus took hold of our nation.

During this time, I spent my days how I normally do: with my friends and family attempting to find things to do and enjoying the beauty of my town and my routine in any way that I could. I spent day after day with the same people (who I love), doing the same thing (which I didn’t love), and as distracted and withdrawn as I’d managed to become from the “real world,” I was jolted back into the dark reality of our nation when last April, the viral video of Amhaud Arbery’s homicide began circulating on Facebook. As divided as our town may be in terms of wealth and status, our town is very small and generally tight-knit, and as such, this was a communal tragedy. The majority of us, the Haves and Have-Nots alike, banded together to organize and protest until justice was served. If you’re not familiar, Ahmaud’s murder was one of the first of many last summer that gripped our nation, and subsequently the globe, as Black Lives Matter resurfaced and historical progressive strides were made giving just a little power back to the people, all thanks to the ones most deeply traumatized by America’s dark history. If you were to ask me as a child to envision the year 2020, I would have thought we’d have flying cars, peace on earth, and an option to vacation in outer space. Yet, the reality is that we are still fighting the powers to be for a truly free, equal, and just society. Although 2020 seemed to turn all the way dark as it gradually faded into 2021, these radical movements that operate for the highest good have exposed the light that still exists, and for that reason, I cling on to hope while I continue to fight. Our experiences on earth are truly all about perspective, but we cannot choose to only see the good that serves us while ignoring the dark forces that harm and oppress others. By joining together to fight the power for a kinder world filled with less judgement and more understanding and compassion, we can truly make this a beautiful place to raise our children.

I chose this picture and I chose to tell this rather harsh, yet true and not-so-lighthearted story of my hometown because I simply do not want to pretend anymore that everything will be fine if we continue living as we always have. I’m a positive person, I always try to promote love and light, but I cannot turn a blind eye to injustice. I can’t turn a blind eye to poverty and unspeakable wealth disparities, racism, and a small, yet noticeable, community of people who still endorse the confederacy. Brunswick is and will always be beautiful in its own special way to me. But that does not mean it is not without problems. That does not mean it is not without a dark past which still finds a way to rear its ugly head when people filled with hate become too comfortable in their willful ignorance. Brunswick may be small, and it may be located in the stereotypical rural south, but it’s really no different than our country is as a whole. There is beauty, unconditional love, light, culture, and diversity everywhere we look, but when we allow that which is ugly, dark, and unjust run the show, it can be difficult to focus on anything else. Brunswick will always be home to me. I will always be grateful to this town and the majority of our people for raising me and giving me many beautiful years of life, but I cannot ignore that which is destroying us both in our hometowns and within our country.

I hope this story sheds light on reality and helps those who read it to remember to stay focused on progressing our country so we can raise children in a place we’re proud of. We can both find the beauty in the mundane and demand radical change in one fail swoop. It would be a disgrace to those we have loved and lost, such as Brunswick’s beautiful Ahmaud Arbery, if we turn a blind eye and refuse to see our country any differently. Rest in power, Ahmaud. Brunswick will never be the same, but where there is a demand for change, there is hope. As long as I am here, I will choose to keep my focus on that.

*This picture was taken by me, but it is a mural painted by several teenagers in Brunswick’s youth-led racial & social justice activist group, YOUth Speak Justice. This group rose to the scene following Ahmaud’s murder and uses its funds to engage the local youth in fighting for inclusion and diversity, fighting against racism, and promoting change. They have already used some of their donations to paint several stunning murals in downtown Brunswick. This is one is obviously a tribute to Ahmaud while the others are different images that promote hope and demand change in our small little city. Should this story speak to those judging it to the point I win any type of award, 60% of the proceeds will be donated to this organization. Feel free to donate on your own should this story not make the cut. www.youthspeakjustice.org