In the spring of 2009, I lived in a studio apartment in the southeastern tip of an area of Columbus, OH that has since become known in some circles as The Peach District. I had the good fortune of plentiful free time in those days, and I was in no hurry to take a blind leap into the professional world. In those days, I viewed the full-time professional job as an expensive investment of my (irreplaceable) time and energy and never quite felt I had a fair shot to pick how, exactly, that energy would be diverted into the world.
So I spent a lot of time hanging around the city, meeting people and exchanging ideas. I was looking for people who believed in the power of local, who wanted a vibrant artistic community, and who weren’t afraid to build it themselves. I had an education and a few skills and I wanted to see how I could be put to use in a community full of people with creative ideas. I was curious if there were others who wouldn’t rest until they knew the full extent of their potential.
One of the places I frequented was a too-short-lived coffee and scooter shop called The Kick Start. Though my time there was brief, it was where I met some of the most interesting humans I’ve yet encountered in my young life. Most would probably call these people ‘hipsters’ – and though that may have been technically accurate, it didn’t tell the whole picture. These weren’t your average trust-fund fashionista hipsters – these were the kids who built their own bikes and rode them across country, who had taught English in China, who studied monkeys in Argentina and had degrees in English or Music or Woodworking. People who read constantly and built websites and never missed an election. Good People.
For whatever reason, these Good People wanted to name their area of town The Peach District. Maybe they figured that the first step in engaging the members in the potential of their immediate community was giving that community an identity. Maybe they were tired of listening to the locals complain about the greener grasses of other cities or decades. These Good People didn’t foolishly believe, as too many do, that a simple change in geographic location would solve the complicated equation of one’s own happiness.
Whatever the case, these people had good ideas and were undeterred in their work towards making those ideas come to fruition.
And it was that spirit that led six of us to team up in June of 2009 to see what could happen. We worked with the like-minded owners of Dragonfly Neo-V (now Till Fare) and threw a block party called The Peach District Classic. We closed an alley, grabbed a stage and a PA, and partied in the heart of our newly named neighborhood with dancing, trivia, music, food, drink, and a multimedia art installation. From the vegetables grown in Dragonfly’s backyard to the bands whose practices took place just three houses down from the gallery, everything was as local as we could possibly make it. Over a hundred people showed up. We were hooked.
In October we threw Peachtoberfest, complete with comedy, art, music, saurkraut, liederhosen, brats, beer, bobbing for apples, and a limbo contest. In January we launched The Greatest Show where we crammed as many Columbus acts as we could into 11 consecutive Fridays – comedians, bands, dj’s, improv comedy, art, film, dancers, political speeches, community radio, a ventriloquist and a magician all took the stage at Dragonfly and reminded everyone that Columbus was and is an extraordinarily talented and happening city.
In February we threw Peachi Gras (parade and marching band included). In April we partnered with OpenHeart Art and Short Stop to throw our first children’s event. In May we released a compilation of Columbus music to benefit Gracehaven, a local organization giving a home to sex trafficking survivors.
All told, we generated over $8,000 for local artists and charities.
After taking the summer to travel and regroup, the members of the district returned to Columbus, each working harder than ever on our separate projects, born directly out of the district’s philosophy of community building and promoting local art. Zachariah Baird and Phil Kim have taken the unique theatre element of the district and formed Organ Grinder Productions, which continues to showcase the top local talent every Thursday and Saturday at Kafe Kerouac. Trains Across the Sea been heavily involved in the development of The Dick & Jane Project, a non-profit organization which works with youth to write lyrics that are then turned into songs by local musicians. We still run the Taj Mahal open mic on Tuesdays, which continues to provide an honest space for songwriters to hone their craft. The spirit of The Peach District is still strong as ever, though the work is no longer under its namesake.
Of course, when I started getting involved in the district, I had no idea it would grow into the curious beast it did. I just liked that I had found Good People with intelligent ideas about how their community could be improved. They were fully aware of the sacrifices required to pursue their art, and were unafraid of the hard work necessary to make their ideas reality. We found that implementing change in a community actually does only need a handful of passionate people dedicated to common ideals who don’t care (at least for a little while) if they get paid in return.
The year I spent actively participating in The Peach District was the most eye-opening year of my life, if only that it removed any limits I had placed on my own potential. It’s been an incredible ride so far, and I can’t stress enough the genuine power of a wholly local approach to living in your city. If I learned one thing from my involvement in The Peach District, it’s that if you want to live somewhere interesting, you simply start making where you live interesting.
And that can start anywhere.
