By telescope or microscope, or no scope at all – what did you discover? A new aspect of yourself? A favorite artist, musician, or variety of cheese? Did you discover something about a loved one? A familiar or new-to-you place? Be broad, be narrow, or be surprising.

I discovered a place, not necessarily a new place for me but one I had typically avoided because I am an urban snob. I have new two jobs this year, and both of them are in Hamilton County, the county of north of where I reside. Hamilton County is often perceived as the polar opposite of Marion…less diversity, more wealth, fewer bike lanes, more traffic, fewer real neighborhoods, more subdivisions, less crime, more round-abouts and fancier stores…basically more pretentious. Or least, that’s the comfort we Indianapolis urban rats take when we think of “up north.”

One of my jobs, with a small community development corporation, is focused on building more affordable housing in the area. This is not a need that anyone immediately sees or thinks necessary, and yet it is a desperately real need. This job has taken me through the classic suburbs of Fishers and Carmel to the small towns of Sheridan and Westfield, and the former small town of Noblesville. Through corn fields, subdivisions, strip malls and small downtowns.

I have been deeply impressed with the professionalism and passion of municipal staff, throughout the entire county. Especially the planners…gosh, there are some awesome planners in Hamilton County. I have met kind police officers who are not as jaded as their inner city colleagues. I have met overwhelmed elected officials who hold their duties close to their heart, with little funds or resources.  

I get to see the beauty of the seasons in the trees and fields. My minivan zips past horses in the field and I feel the wind unfettered by buildings.  

And I have reconnected with the teenage version of myself, who grew up in the suburbs of Indianapolis. My high school was surrounded by corn fields, and during junior high algebra class I used to gaze absentmindedly at the horses across the road. This was a time when suburban Indianapolis should have been labeled “subrural.” It was a great place to grow up, as I am sure it is for the teens in Hamilton County. I worry more about the teens in my urban neighborhood, my own kids included.

I work in an area that actually has a high "quality of life," that term that we talk about a lot in the city yet never really attain. Maybe it is time for me to reconnect with my roots? Yeah I can already hear my friends lament and judge...