A Bridge Back Home
Every time “Chicken Fried” by the Zac Brown Band plays, I am instantly transported back to Syracuse, New York. Back to the rolling hills and morning dew leading up to my high school that’s nestled in between the forest pines. Hearing the song in the car on the radio as a teenager meant the weekend, a time to gather around a bonfire and relax, was just around the corner. Now, living in West New York, New Jersey, where country music rarely spills into communal spaces, “Chicken Fried” offers a bridge back home. This song reminds me that even when far from home and worn out from work, good times are ahead.
Behind every memory this song sparks deep within me, are the communities I belong to, from Syracuse embracing country music to West New York offering a different rhythm of life. For me, it has always felt like Syracuse has fostered a sense of belonging among its surrounding smaller towns rather than division. Growing up, I noticed how people from neighboring towns, myself included, would still proudly say we were from Syracuse. That spirit of inclusion extends to the culture itself, openly celebrating country music alongside other genres as part of everyday life, with repeat songs like “Chicken Fried” making an appearance on the weekends. By contrast, New York City commonly rejects a shared identity that welcomes neighbors living just across the Hudson river. This exclusivity coincides with a noticeable lack of country appearing in the New York City music scene itself. Country songs that felt so natural in Syracuse rarely surface in New York City’s soundscape. Yet just across the river in New Jersey, country musicians can still find an audience, with groups like the Zac Brown Band making tour stops that echo the same sense of belonging that I first felt in Syracuse.
What I discovered in New Jersey was that community takes different forms, but in essence feels the same as it did in Syracuse. I gained an appreciation for West New York through exploring more of New Jersey and the further I ventured, the more I saw how much it resembled what I valued in Syracuse - people proud of where they’re from, neighbors who look out for one another, and music that still finds its place in everyday life. Though the rhythms of Syracuse and West New York differ in pace and sound, both remind me of the wisdom Zac Brown shares in “Chicken Fried,” that “it’s the little things in life that mean the most. Not where you live, what you drive, or the price tag on your clothes.” In Syracuse, it was bonfires with friends, familiar voices on the radio, and neighbors who always waved when you passed by. Now, after long days in New York City, I find a familiar comfort in the commute across the Hudson, the bridge itself marking a passage back home where I know good times will be waiting on the other side. Whether it’s grabbing a meal at a local diner or escaping to the wide-open stretches of New Jersey’s countryside, I have come to see West New York as part of a larger community that helps me feel at home.
