This may not make any sense. When I talk about Detroit, I tend to write very stream of consciousness. Either way, go for it...

I have lived in the Cass Corridor of Detroit from 1991 to 2000. That's nine years. When my parents came to the United States. We lived in an apartment in the Cass Corridor of Detroit. It was on Peterboro down the street from Chungs in the old China Town. I was three years old then. The second apartment we lived in was on E. Willis. Just down the street from the Majestic Theater. I was 5 years old. On Thanksgiving day, all we had to do was walk to the end of the block and set up lawn chairs to watch the parade. When I lived on Second and Hancock, I would host a Wednesday night pre-Thanksgiving party. I fed people, they got drunk, people passed out, and I had the gleeful task of waking everyone up in the morning so as to walk 6 blocks south of my apartment to find a place on Woodward to watch the parade.

I went to pre-school in Highland Park. Had my fourth birthday party at the Burger King on the corner of Woodward and Davison, when it was housed in a huge building that has since been leveled and turned into a gas station; a gas station with a Burger King housed inside.

I was there the last day that Hudson's downtown was open to the public. I now discovered that they moved the Children's Museum from it's original location in the Victorian Mansion on Kirby, next door to the International Institute, to Woodward. I remember going as a child, and taking part in their craft classes and staring in awe at the taxidermied tiger on the second floor, nose pressed hard against the glass.

I remember going to the main branch of the Detroit Public Library. I remember the huge revolving globe located where the security desk now sits, pressing my hands against the surface of the globe feeling the mountains under my tiny hands, as it went around on its axis. I remember walking up the marble staircase for the first time, when I was 7, to the third floor and being astounded at how huge it was, the stained glass windows, the murals, and the brass arches around the doorways.

I graduated from Wayne State University in 1994.

I started going to the Dally in the Alley long before it was even advertised in the Metro Times, when it was a just a neighborhood get together, when I was 17 years old. I'm almost 31 now. I remember when the residents of Ferry street put on the first annual and only street fair. I remember my first fourth street fair.

I've lived through the renovation/destruction of Old Main. I walked through its marble hallways and cathedral ceilings before they gutted them and replace them styrofoam drop ceilings and dry wall. I used to purposely get lost in its caverns. exploring my way through ancient lockerooms with lockers from the 1897, when it was built. I would walk my dog around it and sometimes, on summer days, we would walk take our walks inside. We would walk up the fire escape and sit outside, watching the traffic on Second go by.

I played in the fountain outside of the Detroit Institute of Arts with a group of little kids. When the temperature is high, and there's no pool to be had, you make do with the friendly neighborhood museum's fountain. We had a ball. I walked home, soaking wet and grinning from ear to ear.

I remember the smell of the lilac bushes that surrounded my old apartment building.

My entire youth spent in the Cass Corridor. I still call it home. I still come alive as soon as I take the Warren exit off the I-75. I'm still not afraid to walk by myself in the middle of the night through campus or around my neighborhood. Even if it is 2:30 in the morning. I still feel great comfort looking up at the clock tower of Old Main or walking into old Marwil's bookstore. I still crave for a meal at the Epicurius Restaurant on Warren.

The hardships and joys I've lived through I wear as a badge of honor. I've found that even those individuals who would love to see Detroit be damned to hell for eternity, even they do the same when they're in another city.

I found that people (I included), whether they chose to or not, who find themselves intertwined with Detroit are brought to the city for a reason. To learn about themselves or about other human beings. We are brought here to live through our own private transformations under the cloak of urban decay, the rawness and beauty of these streets. We are brought here by the fates to be infused with a spirit of resurrection, survival and perseverance.