Palm trees, concrete; unspoilt ocean, trash; manatees, Miami traffic. In 2023, Florida’s net population grew by almost half a million, a mix of internal migration and external. Move to Florida, live the no-state-tax-backyard-beach-Disney-Spring Break dream. In 2024, that incoming number fell significantly.
If South Florida was a cocktail, it would be called Cognitive Dissonance. And not just for the effects of what would be, I’m sure, a potent mix.
Write Across America
Earlier this month, we hosted a writing stop-off as part of the National Writing Project’s annual series of events, Write Across America. Florida, especially South Florida, to many people, is the sum of alligators plus beaches plus sunshine. And, of course, Florida Man.
Yes, and. It is also the place where you can hear Spanish, Portugese, Haitian Creole, Jamaican Creole, French, and 126 other languages. South Florida was the adopted home of Hemingway, and currently boasts strings of literary pearls, from Judy Blume to Diana Abu Jaber, to Fabienne Josaphat, Edwidge Danticat, and Yaddyra Peralta.
Here, you can kayak peacefully across the city, despite probable-alligators, experience elegant cuisine from Ethiopia, Cuba, Bangladesh, Vietnam, and Thailand. You can snorkel beachside, run in the expansive parks, be an activist for African American history, and spit your bars in a regularly scheduled open mic. Yes, and.
Yes, and. Trump flags are flying in our neighborhood streets. Books are being removed from our schools, gay rights and trans rights were being dismantled long before the 2024 election. Rents are high and rising here, while the average salary is low. Homelessness is increasing in our cities, as is the criminalization of being homeless.
Yes, and. We have art. The kind of art that is displayed with a price tag, and the kind that’s tagged. We have a city museum that has wholeheartedly embraced history, not just white history, we have our downtown city mural being replaced to reflect all who came before, not just some. We have a weekly, growing protest outside the Fort Lauderdale Tesla dealership. We have Pride. We have hope.
Yes, and. South Florida is a living, sparkling mosaic, each piece suspended in fast-moving jelly. We acknowledge that we live, breathe, work, and love on indigenous lands: Miccosukee, Seminole, Creek, and others who came before. We acknowledge that the Snowbird traffic is real, that Spring Break is frustrating, that the summers are exhausting, that climate change is real, and that the all-too-brief winters sometimes sing such a gentle lullaby that we sleepwalk into the next season, assuring ourselves that the sunshine is worth it, that the beaches we no longer go to will be visited, and that we really will take up scuba diving.
Look further, look beyond
Our writers responded beautifully. We led them on a tour of our region, from downtown Fort Lauderdale to the Everglades. We know, as teachers, that when we teach, we learn twice. And so, we learned again, to look beneath the surface, to see community, to see art, and to see hope in this disjointed, transient, paradoxical place. We invite you to join us, whether by your own actions and choices in what you decide to see, or by writing your application for the SoFlo Writing Project and taking part in our shared mission to go beyond the “I teach, you write” style of writing instruction, to “We write, we learn, we are a community.”
Join us; we’d love to share your journey.