The Real Reason I Like Cold Weather
I grew up between the desert and the ocean, in a place known around the world for its mild weather. Sunny days in the San Fernando Valley were a given. Nobody made alternate plans in case of rain, and the temperature never dipped below freezing. My heaviest coat was basically a windbreaker.
Before I started working at UMBC in 2003, I had lived in Southern California for nearly all of my 36 years. People on campus asked me all the time what could possibly have motivated me to leave paradise for . . . this.
I admit that I didn't come to Baltimore for the weather. But I am a big fan of the rain, sleet and snow. I could live without the tear-inducing blasts of frigid wind plaguing Commons Drive on winter mornings, but that aside, I love the cold.
Cold, wet weather reminds me that I came here by choice, and that I have the power to shape my life, my career and my contributions. No mere inertia or taken-for-granted assumptions about my destiny hold me here. Against the 75-degrees-and-sunny backdrop of my former life, snowflakes and raindrops are symbols of freedom and personal agency.
I think everyone could use those symbols, those reminders to choose and not simply surrender to the tug and pull of the taken-for-granted. Maybe you have your symbols too.
Summers are very different too: July and August in Southern California are not nearly as moist as they are here. So I must also treasure the heat and humidity as symbols of freedom, right? But no. They just make me sweat.
Before I started working at UMBC in 2003, I had lived in Southern California for nearly all of my 36 years. People on campus asked me all the time what could possibly have motivated me to leave paradise for . . . this.
I admit that I didn't come to Baltimore for the weather. But I am a big fan of the rain, sleet and snow. I could live without the tear-inducing blasts of frigid wind plaguing Commons Drive on winter mornings, but that aside, I love the cold.
Cold, wet weather reminds me that I came here by choice, and that I have the power to shape my life, my career and my contributions. No mere inertia or taken-for-granted assumptions about my destiny hold me here. Against the 75-degrees-and-sunny backdrop of my former life, snowflakes and raindrops are symbols of freedom and personal agency.
I think everyone could use those symbols, those reminders to choose and not simply surrender to the tug and pull of the taken-for-granted. Maybe you have your symbols too.
Summers are very different too: July and August in Southern California are not nearly as moist as they are here. So I must also treasure the heat and humidity as symbols of freedom, right? But no. They just make me sweat.
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Posted: September 26, 2011, 8:13 AM