OPINION: East Coast boy meets Utah culture
Hostile, aggressive, scary — I know I’m not the easiest person to get along with sometimes, but during the couple of years I’ve lived here in Cache Valley, I feel I’ve come off as abrasive more times than I’d like to shake a stick at.
Rather than call it quits, gather my things and head back to eastern Pennsylvania with my overly assertive tail between my legs, I’d like to analyze what is going on here culturally that may be causing some of the conflicts I, and others like me, have experienced in this jewel of a city nestled in the mountains of northern Utah.
For the first 26 years of my life I grew up in a place called Allentown — the place Billy Joel and, later in “Hangover 2,” face-tatted Ed Helms crooned about — which is 45 miles north of Philadelphia.
Allentown is no suburban, predominantly white area where everyone smiles at each other in public while secretly hating everyone but themselves. Allentown is part of a typical metropolitan area with a mix of people closely representative to that of New York City’s population, but 10 times smaller.
Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of self-centered, greedy jerks where I come from. The major difference I notice between Cache Valley and where I grew up is that people back East aren’t afraid to tell each other how they feel — whether they know one another or not. Back East, I can go into a coffee shop or a store and talk to a perfect stranger without getting looked at like I’m a nutcase.
I’ve also found that in the East, when I walk into a convenience store or a restaurant to get served, the person behind the counter usually has the courtesy to pretend to be nice. Out here people don’t seem to care that the money I’m about to give them pays for their pittance of a check. I don’t care if you’re unhappy with your job or the money you don’t make, or the fact that you don’t like the way I look; I feel like I deserve a little respect, even if you do have to fake it.
What I’ve said may have people reeling in their seats, wondering how I’ve mustered the audacity to say such things — How can I be so abrasive, such a monster? This is how my culture and the dominant Utah culture differ. And when I say “dominant culture,” I’m not talking about being LDS, because I am LDS.
A lot of non-LDS folks blame the culture in Utah on “Mormonism.” I’m here to say, the religion is not necessarily the root of the issue. Granted, most out-of-state Mormons feel, for some reason, like it’s necessary to specify when they meet new acquaintances that they are not “Utah Mormons.” Every time I hear this, I laugh. But, no, there’s more to the culture out here than just being LDS.
First of all, I love living here. Being an outdoors enthusiast — I lived in Moab four years before I came here — I couldn’t ask for a better place to live. Second of all, I don’t hate the people out here, and I certainly don’t wake up every morning thinking to myself, “Who can I attack today?” I’ve developed this complex that I appear to people to be some sort of ferocious, rapacious animal.
Again, I admit, I may aggressively seek to attain clarity through direct identification of my thoughts and emotions in conversation compared to most locals. However, I do not intend to hurt feelings, ruffle feathers or otherwise cause discomfort among those I associate with.
I would simply like to reassure anyone who may bump into me in the future that they can expect no sugary-sweet, beat-around-the-bush, passive-aggressive, elemental tack to my speech patterns. In other words, “fuhgeddaboudit” — let’s get to the point and move on with our lives.
I feel like I’ve heard the word “awkward” all to often here, and I constantly try to remind people things are only awkward if you allow yourself to feel awkward. I suppose for an area where the culture dictates strategically sought-out path of least resistance when trying to get a point across, people will tend to feel awkward when you up and tell it like it is. But I feel it’s still the best way. I mean, how else do you ever get a woman to go on a date if you don’t ask her? It might feel uncomfortable at first, but afterward you go out, kiss and live happily ever after, right?
And that’s the segue to my final point about this culture I’m so desperately working to figure out. I am 31 years old and perfectly single — never been married, never had kids and not even dating. Since I moved here, it seems every time I — out of courtesy — try to say “Hi” to a woman, she clams up, dons a look of sheer terror and runs in the opposite direction.
I understand this is the place where all men seem to want to be married before they graduate college, but I’ve got news. I just want to graduate college. It’d be nice to meet women and get to them in the process, but if I talk to you, chances are I’m just trying to be courteous. I promise I don’t have a ring in my pocket waiting for the finger of the next person willing to carry on a substantial conversation with me. So please stop being rude and have the decency to talk to me. After all, I’m not the monster you think I am.