Crossing Horns: Hometown heart or hate?

GRAPHIC/ Allison Lu, Tiffany Mac

By Kaylee Eiber, Lucas de Paula
Editor-in-Chiefs

Kaylee Eiber

As a San Gabriel Valley resident for my entire life, I will think fondly of the great academic opportunities and wonderful people I’ve met. I take such great pride in my community every time we come together for events like school musicals and the Camellia Festival. Though USC is my dream school for all its energy and big-city hype, nothing compares to the connections and experiences I get from Temple City. 

I used to think I was made for so much more than our small city. I promised my mom that I would go to NYU or UC Berkeley and never come back; I hated her and I hated it here. Over spring break, I watched “Lady Bird” and coincidentally saw the effects play out. The titular character moved to New York and immediately became homesick and regretful despite her rocky relationship with her mom and desire to leave small-town Sacramento. 

I luckily rescinded this promise years ago–my dad died when I was six and I can’t bear to be away from home if something were to happen to my mom. By the time I watched “Lady Bird,” I had all my college results without ever applying to UC Berkeley or NYU. I’m not made for more than our city, I realized, I was made to maximize every opportunity.

My fourth-grade teacher serves on the Board of Education. My AP Gov and Econ teacher is the mom of one of my best friends. I say “hi” in the halls to so many teachers I’ve never had. These interlinked relationships are the epitome of what I love about TC.

Over 65% of the community is Asian. Despite my outward appearance, I grew up solely with the Cambodian side of my family and, in turn, entirely embraced Asian customs. After visiting Whittier College, it became clear to me just how significant of an impact our majority-Asian community had on me. I appreciate diversity and actively sought out diverse colleges, yet, sacrificing my entire culture and community was not something I prepared to experience. 

A small city with an overwhelming lack of diversity is in no way a good look on paper. Fortunately, I’ve learned to accept both sides of my Wasian identity as a whole; the culture my city promotes is no longer something I take for granted.

Lucas de Paula

As a San Gabriel Valley resident for my entire life, I will think fondly of the great academic opportunities and wonderful people I’ve met. But just because it’s part of my life journey doesn’t mean I love this community, or all its attributes. It’s a stepping stone in my life and I can’t stay here forever.

I can’t deny that this school district has been crucial to my growth. I’ve made friends since kindergarten, and feel comfortable in a familiar environment. Yet, as an avid traveler, one of my favorite things is exploring the world. I’ve roamed the streets of London, trekked the jungles of Brazil, subway-hopped in New York and got lost in Spanish alleyways. Yet, my least favorite part of all those trips was returning home to TC’s suffocating social and cultural bubble. 

The brick walls that encase campus or the homey avenues aren’t objectively bad, but they can alienate you from the outside world. TC’s population shares similar cultures, traditions and academic beliefs, often being pervasively suffocating for those who don’t participate. As a Brazilian-American, I barely feel part of the Hispanic and Latino community, let alone everyone else. 

It’s no surprise that academics are heavily emphasized at this school district. In full transparency, it’s the reason my parents bought their house in the neighborhood.

I’m not asking Temple City to be a metropolitan megacity, it’s charm comes from it’s implicit character. It’s a solid academic foundation, but the outside world is brimming with opportunities waiting to be explored.