Spartanburg is where I want to be.

I left Spartanburg in the year 2000—ready to take on the world. A Sparkle City native daughter with a worldview that felt too big for the place I was born, I left town with no plans to ever come back.

A friend from my graduating class at Spartan High said to me, “You think you’re getting out of here, but just wait…you’ll see…this red clay will always be stuck between your toes.”

No way. Not me. I was ready for bigger things. So off I went—first to Greenville, then Atlanta, Nashville, and finally the City of Big Shoulders—Chicago, Illinois where I tried to make my mark, revitalizing communities from within through entrepreneurship. I’ve loved every place I’ve ever lived. Each city has a unique quality, plenty of flaws, and lots of good people working hard to make their corner of the world a better place. I soaked it up—learning from the best and gleaning a little flavour from each of my homes along the way.

I had no plans to return to Spartanburg, SC. In fact, if you had asked me if I’d ever move back, I would have chuckled. Spartanburg. No way. I’ve got bigger fish to fry.

But a spur-of-the-moment trip turned my perspective of the Hub City on its ear. After our second daughter was born, in the dead of a brutal Chicago winter, my husband suggested that we hop in the car and drive south. Our newborn was not yet two months old and it seemed like a brilliant idea to capture the last remaining days of my parental leave with a trip to see the family back in the ‘Burg.

These trips home, as infrequent as they were, were generally jam-packed with family time. Whirlwinds of gatherings at my parents’ house, full of good southern food, living room jam-sessions, and kids running wild circles around the old family home place. But this time something was different. We arrived mid-week, and the atmosphere was unusually quiet. I sat, one laid-back morning, and nursed my infant in my dad’s recliner while I chewed the fat with one of my big brothers—telling him about the work I was doing in Chicago. The conversation turned serious as Scott looked up at me, eyes sparkling with ideation, and said, “Betsy, you’ve got to see what’s happening in Spartanburg.”

The next morning, Scott harnessed his convening power to introduce me to a group of people who I immediately identified as nothing less than movers of mountains. Gathered around a table at the Little River Coffee Bar, I met a woman who was revolutionizing the way Spartanburg thinks of race, gender, and poverty—all through her gift of spoken word. I met a City leader who was giving his blood, sweat, and tears to telling the story of Spartanburg—a city with soul—a city on the rise. I met a pastor, an entrepreneur, and a woman who was fostering growth in Spartanburg’s most distressed communities—and doing it the right way.

It was on that day that I realized Spartanburg was where I wanted to be.

I’ve been a few places in my years on this earth. And I can say with confidence that, while Spartanburg has its challenges, there’s no better time to be in the Hub City. Spartanburg is bursting with leaders who are innovative, creative, and, most importantly, committed to seeing this place grow into the inclusive, transformative community it was born to be. The energy is palpable.

Standing barefoot in my front yard one early rainy morning this week, I looked down and watched as the red clay sunk deep between my toes. And I smiled. Spartanburg’s not just a city—it’s a movement. There’s no better time to be in Spartanburg. And Spartanburg is where I want to be.