Bostonians have a rep for being buttoned-up and maybe a little severe. Honestly, I can't blame them. Between having a winter that lasts for months, the Red Sox as an institution and the quality of Dunkin' Donuts coffee, I'd be cranky too. Watching the Celtics lose to the Lakers can't have been fun. A heat wave that not only included high temperatures but also near-100 percent humidity doesn't sound like a picnic either. We should all give them a break. There's a lot to be cranky about.
But just because you're cranky doesn't mean you can take it out on the Californians. I endure some form of it every day. If I wear flip-flops in November, it's "because she's from California," accompanied by an eye roll. If I say anything remotely dumb, same goes. I had a political science professor last semester who spent at least five minutes of every lecture making fun of California and Californians — of course, he was from Brooklyn.
My personal opinion is that all the California-bashing here at Tufts stems from jealousy. Yes, I'm biased. But I also have multiple friends — one in particular, she's tall and loud and actually from Maryland, if you want to get technical — who desperately wish they were from the best state in the Union. Why? Well aside from the fact that we are — in general, there are exceptions to every rule — taller, tanner, more attractive and more athletically talented (11 of the 14 members of the women's volleyball team is Californian, need I say more?), we're also more relaxed. Everyone else wishes they could have ditched their last-period class during senior year of high school to go surfing. They turn positively green thinking about the fact that we could go to the beach in December. Shorts in the middle of January? Normal! Fresh avocados year-round? Always!
But I will admit, Boston has its charms. Public transportation, for one. I'm from Los Angeles, the city of cars. I had never been on a subway until I moved to Boston. Now I take the T just for the fun of it. Fall is another amazing perk. The changing leaves are gorgeous — as gorgeous as 75-degree sunshine with Santa Ana winds, which was October for me during my first 18 years on the planet.
Lack of pretension is also a part of the culture here in Boston. In Los Angeles, if you have money, influence or a family member in the entertainment industry, you flaunt it. Here, not so much. It's more about what you say and what you do. That said, there is also the culture of families who came over on the Mayflower and own half of Connecticut, a house on the Cape and a yacht. But even that is significantly preferable to the children of movie stars and producers who fill Los Angeles and give the rest of us Californians a bad reputation. Other things I love about Boston, which many locals take for granted, are the squares. Davis, Porter, Harvard, Kendall, Copley. There's a neighborhood vibe about them that I've never found anywhere else.
But somehow, in the 3,000 miles separating Boston and Los Angeles, there are some constants. Starbucks, for instance. Doesn't matter what coast you're on: The music, the lamps and the nonfat vanilla lattes are always the same, and that, even on the snowiest winter day, makes me feel at home.
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Samantha Jaffe is a sophomore who has not yet declared a major. She can be reached at Samantha.Jaffe@tufts.edu.
