Alexandra Duggan: I moved from Boise to Spokane, and I don’t regret it

The day I packed my entire life into my car and drove from Boise to Spokane, I spent the seven-hour drive wiping so many tears from my eyes I could barely see the road.

I lived all 24 years of my life in Boise, and I was scared. I thought to myself the entire drive that so many people call the two places “sister cities” due to their similarity, but I knew it would never feel like Boise to me.

I was right, but for a lot of the wrong reasons.

When I told people I was leaving, their responses were the typical rhetoric you might hear from out-of-towners: it’s dangerous there and it’s not clean like Idaho is, they’d say. I also got retorts that most people move from Spokane to Boise, and not the other way around.

Then they’d follow up the mostly degrading comment with, “You know it’s called ‘Spokompton,’” an affront to Spokane and the city of Compton, California, for being associated with gangs, drugs and drive-by shootings – even though recent reports compiled by Spokane’s police department show the city has had no increase in homicides in comparison from January to August of last year, as well as decreases in some assaults and robberies.

I felt hurt by the comments about Spokane at the time because I was self-conscious about the decision I’d made to move away, and was worried I’d regret it.

The very day I arrived in Spokane, it became clear my mostly suburban, middle-class family was not used to seeing people’s struggles so visibly on the streets. For context, the county where Boise is located has almost 700 homeless people as of last year; Spokane has above 2,000, which came as a shock to my Idahoan mother.

I shrugged it off.

It’s true if someone walks down the street, they will probably see trash on the sidewalk at some point, a broken window, a condemned building or a homeless person fixing their tent so they have a place to sleep at night. They will probably see the police department responding to a call or the fire department responding to an overdose. And as a journalist covering public safety, uncomfortable, weird and horrible things are all I write about. I’m more immersed in it than most people are, and I have shed some tears while covering certain cases in the community.

That alone could deter some people, but it hasn’t deterred me. It’s been almost a year in Spokane, and I still fiercely defend my decision to leave Boise.

I think it’s all because Spokane has grit.

I love Boise. I always will. I miss it all of the time. The city is beautiful, the Capitol building is in the heart of downtown and brazen violent crimes feel almost unheard of. If someone was assaulted in Boise, it usually was all anyone could talk about, because there is little desensitization to crime.

Meanwhile, everything had to be proper, everything was always put together and tied up in a nice bow.

Here, there isn’t any shame in not always being put together.

Few things here feel like they are tied up in a bow, and most often, Spokane realities might not always be that pretty – people’s struggles are present whether they live without housing or not; the struggles exist and they are out there for everyone to see. People here own up to their mistakes. People are brutally honest with you. People will show you sides of themselves that might be a bit self-incriminating or forthright, but they’re candid, and they continue to persist in spite of all of it.

The city of Spokane was essentially founded as a center for radical unionism where miners, loggers and railroad workers fought for better pay and a shorter workday, leading to mass strikes and arrests in the streets. It gave Spokane a relatively blue-collar reputation that is still clear today. People who have deep Spokane roots wear it like a badge of honor, and I haven’t met one person who isn’t more than willing to tell you about it.

Spokane is why I actually feel more comfortable here showing emotion or yelling with joy in the street. I don’t mind dancing on the sidewalk where people can see, waving to people I haven’t met, wearing pajamas to the grocery store or letting my acne scars show in public.

Spokane is also why I’m grateful for local transportation – I can take the bus wherever I want at a moment’s notice. Boise’s bus system wasn’t ever raved over, from what I recall.

The neighborhoods also have amenities that places in Boise didn’t. I used to live in an area where I had to drive my car to go anywhere at all. Now, I can walk to the store from my house, bike to a neighborhood swimming pool or get a beer a couple blocks away. I have even attempted to jog the 3 miles to work from the South Hill because the run past Manito Park is impossible to pass up.

Boise is also nicknamed the City of Trees, and while there are a massive amount of trees in the Treasure Valley that shadow its beautiful parks, I love to walk outside every morning to see and smell the giant, historic Ponderosa pines that surround my new neighborhood.

I love the unique parts of the U.S. Pavilion or the river flowing right through the city. I love how raw Spokane’s history is and how it’s visible in our buildings and our city’s layout. I love how real people seem and how they’ll talk to you about anything. I love all of it.

The contrast is striking, but even more so for my mental health. Almost two years ago I could barely escape my bed, because it was easier than spending the effort to shower, and I spent more nights alone than I did with friends or with family.

It was even clear to people around me that I was miserable – I’d snap with aggression at the drop of a hat and I had an attitude that not even my own mother could look past. My weight was fluctuating rapidly and I relied more on isolating myself to cope with the fact I wanted to crawl out of my own skin, with no explanation as to why.

While someone could just attribute my love for Spokane to the fact I was growing unhappy in Boise and just needed a change, I attribute it to my gratitude. I was unhappy, in part, but moving to another state didn’t suddenly fix it. Instead, it reframed my thinking about life and what I used to take for granted, which led me to cherish a place that I believe others have lost appreciation for. I can actually look outside the window with happiness now.

So, appreciate Spokane for what it is and find the joy where you are. Life is too short to live without gratitude, especially in a place with so much to offer.