Toward the end of in the last millennium, I spent several years living in a cozy apartment that was within walking distance of work, shopping and socializing. The space was a cheerful sunlit studio right in the heart of pre-real-estate-boom Center city. $465 per month. Separate kitchen. Basement laundry. Sweet. I walked to work in fifteen minutes, to the grocery store in ten, to bars and restaurants and other attractions in about five minutes. My best friends lived within a few blocks of me. I could practically roll out of bed and fall straight into the lap of my favorite waiter at my favorite Tapas restaurant.
Never mind how that sounds.
The bottom line is that, it was a happy, functional life. I socialized constantly. I had no rush hour to deal with, no parking fees or car insurance, no long treks to or from social engagements or daily errands. I would literally, sit by my window and wave, through my geranium plants, to friends as they walked past. I felt really connected to the people in my life.
Contrary to what some people believe, this sort of village life is hard to find outside of big cities. Most small towns in America today have been completely gutted by suburbia. The compact, bustling towns my great-grandparents’ knew have been encircled and strangled by shopping centers, cul-de-sacs and sprawling business parks. It’s difficult to find a functioning downtown today where people can work, shop and play. Even the most bustling towns rarely have the array of produce stands, clothing stores and corner pharmacies that my city neighborhood had. Few small town dwellers know the pleasure of commuting to work on foot or by bike. Even fewer can live comfortably car-free. And most importantly, the casual, frequent, unplanned social interactions of small town life have grown rare outside of urban villages.
I think “Small Town America” is a myth used by conservative politicians to scorn political philosophies inclusive of complexity. Big cities are messy and bureaucratic; small towns are places of “simpler” values and honest, self-reliant people who help their neighbors. Small towns are predictable, secure and safe. They’re the “authentic” America that the urban world fails to understand or respect. In fact, small towns can be far more chaotic and damaged than their larger counterparts. If you don’t believe me, take a drive across Pennsylvania sometime. Or through Ohio. Or nearly anywhere in the American south. You’ll see 21st century “Small Town America” in all its shabby glory: empty factories; downtowns bereft of a centralized business district; neighborhoods where people have paved their lawns to create extra parking; Towns where the only jobs are at the Wal-Mart Supercenter 20 miles away.
Some politicians have happily and cynically exploited this insecurity by reinforcing the myth of some alien elite targeting small town values for destruction. Gay, terrorist, liberal, big-government boogiemen are out to destroy American values one small town at a time. But actually, it’s big box stores that are doing it. It’s outsourcing. It’s highway construction. Pay no attention to the corporate tool behind the green curtain; he’s from a small town, just like you. Listen to how he talks.
At worst, “Urban” is a racial code used to conjure up images no respectable politician has openly articulated since the 1950′s; at best, it’s suggestive of crime, mistrust and a sort of intellectual decadence that, to some people, seems somehow un-American. But, in fact, the most honest, down-to-earth village I ever lived in was in the center of America’s fifth largest city. This was a place where I tipped my lesbian letter-carrier at Kwanzaa, where I dog-sat for a retired stripper next door, where I listened to the bickering of the male couple downstairs, and nodded to the tattooed moms walking their children to school. I could borrow a cup of flax seed oil from my vegan neighbors. I house-cleaned for a massage therapist who paid me in back rubs. And in less yuppified neighborhoods across the city, people showed up for block clean-ups. They grew community gardens. They watched each other’s houses. They started local businesses and community-based organizations so people had choices about where to shop or where to send their children to school. They helped each other out. Small Town Values hard at work.
The other day, I listened to Bristol Palin’s mom try to belittle Obama for being a “community organizer”. I wonder: aren’t “organized communities” synonymous with “Small Town Values”? Aren’t collective efforts forged by social relationships the cornerstone of what small town values are supposed to be about? I would think that any politician trying to pass herself off as some homespun traditionalist would applaud community organizing instead of mocking it. Maybe small town values only apply outside of Alaska.
Today, I live in a smaller, more spread-out city with a far less pedestrian-friendly plan and I also drive a car. I miss my neighborhood in Philly that is now priced far out of my range due an influx of urbanites fleeing small town suburbs for big city villages. They’re part of a trend of young-ish people and retirees who are moving back to cities in search of community. Or just shorter commutes. Or closer proximity to bars. But in any case, these urban villages are the wave of the future. They’re places that still have the infrastructure to support the kinds of connectedness and interaction that inspire the enduring myth of the Small Town. That’s where my America is. Those are my Big City Values.
Ross G.
Pittsburgh, PA
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