I Choose Indy!

I chose Indy because Indy chose me. More specifically, the Indy Star chose me.I was born in Westfield, but my earliest memories are of the Northside of Indianapolis, where my parents moved shortly after I started school.

Like a lot of kids, I was determined not to come back here after college. New York had its bright lights. Washington, D.C., had its political allure. California was sunny. Seattle looked nice. I’d lived in London for a summer and wasn’t opposed to going back. My friends from IU scattered every which way.

And so, armed with my trusty journalism degree, I set out to find a job. Applications flew to the farthest corners of the country — and a few beyond. Rejection letters poured in.

Then I found out that the Star had a now-defunct Statehouse internship available. I interviewed for it, and somehow I got the job. This, I thought, would be a temporary stopping point as I continued to apply elsewhere.

But lo and behold, there was something kind of cool about being back home. I knew the people. I knew the names. I was regularly talking to people whose children routinely ignored me when we were classmates at Park Tudor. I was sitting down for interviews with the Mayor and the Governor before I was old enough to legally drink. I was part of something, even if my part was minor.

My internship turned into a Pulliam Fellowship, which turned into a full-time job covering City Hall. I met my husband. I quit my job. I signed up for law school. I bought a condo.

There were tough spots, and I learned some valuable lessons. For example, don’t quit one job until you have another one lined up. But it worked out. I went from the Star to the Statehouse lobby to a state agency to a small graphic design firm to a large law firm. I babysat a little blog for the summer and never gave it back.

I suddenly found myself in the thick of state politics.

Could I have followed a similar path elsewhere? Possibly. But I’d never have felt as comfortable as I do here. I have family nearby who will love me no matter what — and I’m sure “no matter what” will happen one of these days. I can afford to own property and still eat more than three times a week. I’m 26 years old, but my job allows me to hang out with people who can teach me so much about things that happened decades before I was born.

Because we live Downtown, I usually walk to and from work. Rare are the days when I don’t see at least one person I know along the way. It’s not that I’m popular. It’s just that Indy’s that kind of town.

I tried hard to get away from this place. I desperately wanted my brain drained from the state. But I’m glad things worked out the way they did.

Other cities would be a house. This is my home.