To the frontier!

As many of us quickly approach graduation with a dismaying lack of career options, it may help to get some inspiration from previous Columbia classes. Take, for example, the class of 1889. There were probably standard opportunities for graduates, but that year brought a unique opportunity. The federal government opened up a large chunk of Oklahoma to settlement, prompting the famed Oklahoma Land Run and the homesteading of the center of the state. I imagine there were a handful of students who saw a future in that unveiled land of opportunity and took the road less traveled.

Granted, it’s been more than 100 years since the days of Manifest Destiny and the Frontier Thesis. Since then, “frontiers” have cropped up in science and technology, but no longer as tangible spaces of adventure and innovation—or at least not in the form of a horizon of the unknown. But do not despair, upcoming Columbia graduate! There still exist instances of this physical Frontier. There are yet outposts waiting to become the home of innovation, creation, and groundbreaking ideas. The most tangible of these new Frontiers is the city of Detroit.

In some respects, Detroit may be the opposite of a Frontier town. If anything, it seems like a place that was once fresh and prosperous but has utterly exhausted its potential. It has seen success—an incredible amount of it—and its time is over. But with a slight shift of perspective, Detroit reveals itself to be as close to a Frontier as it gets for our generation. Thinking back to the original Frontier, which was characterized by one primary attribute—it was a place where new roots grew free and fast, no ambition was too great, and opportunities were as boundless as the horizon. By these metrics, Detroit as it exists today would inspire even the ragtag masses of the 1800s, not to mention the audacious members of the senior class.

I was recently talking with a friend of mine who visited Detroit with an urban studies program. She recounted captivating stories of a city with vacant skyscrapers, abandoned neighborhoods, and empty streets. Coupled with recent news stories about the city offering houses to public employees for a couple thousand dollars and the emergence of an “urban prairie” of grassy open lots amassing into incongruous fields in the city, her stories got me thinking. What could the future hold for Motown? What would happen if Columbia students were to apply their ambition and education to the city?

Eminem-featuring Super Bowl commercials aside, I find Detroit’s recent history to be less of a miserable decline (though there are elements of that) and more of a dramatic prelude to an unprecedented rebirth. I see those empty skyscrapers as monuments to the innovation that they could house. Those abandoned neighborhoods? They’re an invitation to the bold-hearted among us. Do we have what it takes to rev the engine of renovation and new beginnings?

Forgive me if I sound overly optimistic, but I have been overcome with a pioneer’s spirit. These tales of Detroit have awakened what small piece of that old American ideal resides in my heart. Every mention of an abandoned house or unused storefront renders not an image of dilapidation, but rather one of potential. Detroit is, to be frank, a blank slate. It’s a slate that may be well worn, used to centuries of activity, but it is currently unmarked.

Besides bringing up a contemporary application to an antiquated idea, what is my point? It is that this blank slate, this tract of opportunity, is ours for the taking. There may not be a federal program distributing free houses or business grants in Detroit (are you listening, Mr. President?), but that does not negate the fact that the city represents the rawest chance for entrepreneurship and social pioneering today. Sure, the prospect of moving to an unfamiliar city with a higher crime rate and a whole lot of unknowns may be riskier than the cushiness of that fabulous cubicle job downtown, but it certainly satisfies our desire for the adventure that unknowns bring.

So, consider Detroit. Think about the opportunities and let the endless possibilities wash over you. Take a bold step—we’re young and the world is supposedly our oyster. Think of it as Teach for America without the application process, bureaucracy, and rigidity. In its place is risk, toil, and a wonderful void waiting to be filled. Start a business, establish a community, and make a difference. You could be one of the first.

Derek Turner is a Columbia College senior majoring in anthropology and political science. Opening Remarks runs alternate Mondays.