A Community of Misfits

Whenever I describe where I live to a stranger or somebody I’ve only met a few times, I always find myself saying “Lemon Grove is the place with the giant lemon," or “We have the In-N-Out right by the 94 freeway.”

Not until I say those two phrases—“big lemon” and “In-N-Out”—does the dumbfounded look on the person's face disappear, with them replying, “Oh, I know that place,” followed by silence and then “Man, do I love In-N-Out!”

Instead of “Best Climate on Earth,” maybe our new slogan should be “Lemon Grove: We have an In-N-Out.”

When I think about conversations like this, I always feel like Lemon Grove is so misunderstood. While it is true that Lemon Grove may not have much to offer entertainment or food wise (with the exception of In-N-Out, of course), what we lack in attractions we make up for in character.

I think that Lemon Gove is one of those places where some people just end up. I know that this is the case for me. Don’t get me wrong; it’s not a bad thing at all.

What I’m trying to explain is the feeling of living in a type of neighborhood limbo; maybe we didn’t necessarily strive to end up here, but for some reason, it just works. And this type of dynamic is what plays into the unique character of our little city. 

Immigrants, soccer moms, small-business owners, artists, single parents, hustlers, students; we all have a different story about how we ended up here. Therefore, when attempting to describe the nuances of Lemon Grove to outsiders, we should avoid having to refer to "the big lemon," or the "In-N-Out" for recognition.

Instead, our character should shine through; our new slogan should be “Lemon Grove: A Community of Misfits”—because we truly are a community of misfits. We all come from different backgrounds, have different aspirations, have different strengths and weakness. That’s what distinguishes a city’s character. We should not accept being defined by the fast food eateries or nice weather we have year around.

We are more than that.