I live in a suburb of a ’small town city.’ This, in reality, is a city created from a small town and happened when the population reached a particular number of citizens.

This method of ‘planning’ a city has its benefits, not the least being that there are no high rise buildings in my city. Consequently there are also no traffic jams, and public transport is easily accessible and very well used. People walk, ride bicycles, catch the bus or the train, or drive to work The scooter is making a comeback here because neighbourhoods are smaller and distances shorter to travel, plus the cost of petrol is diabolical.

My own particular neighbourhood still retains the look and feel of a suburb, in essence because that is what it still is. Whilst I live on a highway, no my dear ‘foreign’ readers not a freeway or expressway, it is a two lane highway and will be for quite some time still to come. The City Council provide a green waste pick up and a recycling pick up once a month, I can access mulch for my verge, we recycle all household items such as bottles and cans into a special bin, householders are allowed to have chickens in certain areas, and of course there are the usual cats and dogs. For me personally, a neighbourhood is not a neighbourhood without the character and personality of it’s resident pets.

I love my ’small town city,’ I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.

Tracey
Armadale
Weatern Australia

One of the things I was most proud of when I was a resident of the big city of Philadelphia was that I lived there for 20 years without owning a car. Who needed a car, when I had my feet, my bike, the bus, the subway, the trolleys and a car share service? I felt proud that I was making an impact on the environment. I felt proud that through my personal actions, I was making a contribution, however small, to the greater good. When you live in a city, there are constant reminders that you’re part of something bigger than yourself: You’re a part of a vibrant and diverse community that can be as small as your block or as big as the city itself. When you realize that–and it’s hard not to–you can’t help but want to work to make your community a better place.

As many other city dwellers have noted, cities can provide as much of a “village” feel as many small towns, with their walkable shops and restaurants, farmers markets, cafes … plus, they have the diversity that most villages lack. Sure, cities have their problems, but to imply that the values of cities are somehow “less than” those of small towns is divisive and simply untrue. Where would our country be without its cities?

Now I live in Oakland, another wonderful city that is generally overlooked due to its proximity to lovely San Francisco. I think living in Philadelphia all those years gave me a deeper appreciation for “underdog cities” like Oakland. Philadelphia also had its more glamorous neighbor city, New York. Living in Oakland, I enjoy the city life and the sunshine. I enjoy the year-round farmer’s markets all throughout Oakland. I enjoy walking to the video store, cafe and movie theater, as well as the 10-minute drive to the beach or a redwood grove in the city’s hills. Although I now need a car to easily access the wonders of the Bay Area beyond my walkable Oakland neighborhood, I still take pride in doing my small part to do my part for the greater good. And my heart is warmed by all of the wonderful people of Oakland who do their part as well, whether it’s through recycling, composting, volunteering, driving less or simply smiling and saying hello when they walk down the street. That’s my favorite big-city value.

Blair D
Oakland, CA

Today I rode my bike to work. This past weekend I rode my bike to the grocery store to buy some food for the house. I love riding my bike in the city.

I love the big city value of supporting car-free modes of transportation. People walk, bike, take public transportation and use services like Philly Car Share. We have bike clubs, running clubs, and official and unofficial rides and races of all kinds. Not only is it healthier to walk or ride a bike, but it saves money and the environment.

Tracy
BCV Headquarters

I work right smack in the downtown area of Columbus, Ohio. I know that most of the country doesn’t think about Ohio when they think about big cities, but Columbus, Cincinnati, Cleveland, Akron and Toledo all fall within the top 100 of the most populous cities in our country. According to www.city-data.com, Columbus is number 16, right under San Francisco.

I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say for this and had been pondering it this morning. I just got back from lunch and realized that just telling you about the past hour of my life can give you and idea of Columbus’ big city values.

As my friends and I were walking to get lunch, we were serenaded by a group of Mennonite women, men and children who were set up near the statehouse lawn. We honestly thought they were a recording at first because their harmonies were so beautiful. We selected a newly opened and locally owned restaurant that serves hearty burritos for five bucks. Like many towns and cities across the country, Columbus’ downtown area fell on hard times over the past few decades. Basically all that was left was state agencies, financial institutions and a few theaters. It isn’t back to its prime, but there are restaurants, shops and people moving in.

After lunch, we had a bit of sweet tooth, so we walked over to farmer’s market that sets up every Tuesday and Friday in the shadow of Columbus’ tallest building. A street is closed off and local growers sell their vine ripened tomatoes, corn, peppers and eggplants. We walked past them, as well as the ribs, the samosas, the baked goods and the New Orleans style sweets, to the guy selling his homemade organic soft-serve. Delicious and served with a smile.

We strolled a different street back and found ourselves in the middle of a gentle, yet organized demonstration. The group wanted to stop the use of nuclear and coal power and increase the use of wind and solar power. There were police officers on horses, but they weren’t really necessary because there was no one around disagreeing. One of the demonstrators put her sign down to give us each a little pinwheel to take home to our toddlers.

Hope
www.hopeandmegan.com
Columbus, OH

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