This began life as a Facebook note, but don’t hold that against it. I am casting a wide net.
Not too long ago, Holly and I were talking about some demerit our house had just earned. Maybe Libby was pathetically pressing her face to the glass of the back door, as she does every other day or so, longing to play in the backyard that isn’t back there. Maybe it was dinner time, and all of the neighborhood restaurants were still refusing to deliver to our block. Maybe we were discussing when we were going to pick up our Fedex packages from my parents’ house, since the last two times we’d had things sent to our own house someone had just blatantly walked up in broad daylight and strolled off down the street with them under his arm. Whatever it was, it was a conversation we had had enough times that I just wasn’t in the mood, and instead of shrugging it off I piped up with, “Oh, you know what? Let’s just pack it up and hit the rails.”
Much to my surprise, Holly was listening to me. Moreover, it seems clear that we were waiting for Jim to say these words for some time; the conversation was exactly two weeks ago, and our house is on the market as we speak. Sign out front and everything. Most people need more time than this to burn a house down.
Of course, now there has to be a new house. The hunt is in full swing, and both Holly and I are having a good time and trying to be open-minded. Lots of former dealbreakers are now negotiable. Really nothing is off the table. Everybody’s being flexible.
In theory. I’m having kind of a problem with one aspect of this commitment to open-mindedness.
Here’s the thing: one of my favorite things about our existing house is that it’s centrally located, near everything I like to do and everyone I like to see. That’s great and everything, but lately I’ve been thinking: what difference does that make if I never see anyone and never go anywhere? Who cares if I live here, or in the burbs, or in Yemen? If they have wifi, the way I “hang out” with people 85% of the time will be unchanged.
I am not happy about that, but it is what it is.
So Holly’s suggested houses that, last time, I would have rejected out of hand with nothing more than a glance at the map, but I’m trying not to do that this time because I am an awesome, reasonable grown-up of a man. I have house-hunted in neighborhoods with man-made lakes, neighborhoods with directions like “make a left at the strip mall, and then a right at the other strip mall. If you hit the third strip mall, you’ve gone too far.” The houses themselves, I could live in, but I look at these neighborhoods and cannot hold my mind open with both hands. I just hate the burbs so f***ing much. I am actively trying not to, but it’s uncontrollable. I have lived within walking distance of a grocery store and two movie theaters, and now I am ruined forever. I’m in the breakfast nook on one of these house tours, and I keep picturing my neighbors mowing their lawns in Dockers, and I feel like the whole thing ends with my daughter voting libertarian and making her first non-white friend in college, and I just want to throw myself out the damn bay window and run until I get to a street where someone tries to panhandle me.
But then I also have a voice in my head saying that this resistance is all a stupid, petulant waste of time and money. That to even think something like “am I selling out?” makes you the emotional equivalent of a fifteen year old. Just shut up and move somewhere where you get an office and can hear the TV over the traffic.
It’s a big decision, and it’s really bothering me. I would dearly love to get some perspective, and if you could offer it, that would be outstanding.
April 29th, 2009 at 5:15 pm
That’s a lot to consider and take in, I’m sure the internets will offer you some assistance.
Having spent some time downtown with the Stephensons, visited your current place and lived in St. John, I feel like I’ve experienced most of the issues you’re wrestling with. We were quite pleased in St. John, as it was an integrated neighborhood with a small town feel to it. To me that was the pleasant side of suburban life — nice neighbors to take care of the dog when needed and people would make eye contact and say hello.
When I mowed the lawn I wore a sweater vest, black socks with sandals and carried a bubble pipe in between clenched teeth.
I’m not a St. Louis native so I can’t make a specific geography suggestion that fits all of your needs/wants. I do know that integrated neighborhoods are more common than you think though, and would give you the best of both worlds — a backyard and Dockerless neighbors.
April 29th, 2009 at 7:32 pm
I grew up in the Suburbs of Western New York. Your concerns are warranted, at least partially. I was bored and more than a little opressed by the homogeny. My high school had one (yes one) African American student until Senior Year. And then we got a small influx of urban diversity (Hispanics, Asians, African Americans etc.)
One of the questions I’d ask in addition to diversity is: “Are there orginizations, kids and places that offer Libby the opportunity for fun and education that she can access easily?” I really wish my parents had taken that into consideration before moving my onto a block that had 2 other kids on it.
However, if you choose the quiet solace of Suburbs (which so offer peace and privacy in general) then trips into the Big City can be Adventures with Mom and Dad, until Libby is mature enough to tackle it herself.
There are my two cents- if indeed such musings are worth two cents.
April 30th, 2009 at 8:48 am
Diversity has always been important to us, too. Going to elementary, middle, and high school with people whose parents were diverse in income, race, and creed contributed to making me who I am. We picked our neighborhood in Texas (which is undoubtedly full of houses all built by the same company) b/c it was the first we drove into where we saw non-whites walking down the street, and the housing prices ran from $100,000 to $800,000. We loved St. John for similar reasons — working class, nice people, local business still within a mile, etc. An important thing to note, though, is that even though our St. John house was cute and funky, well-built by an inventor and full of hidden cabinets and chutes, it was still laid out exactly like several of the houses around it. It was it’s own tract home, only built in 1940.
There are lots of neighborhoods in StL and the surrounding towns that can fulfill diversity, niceness, walk-to-a-few places, and delivery-people-don’t-laugh criteria. Have you looked at Dogtown? How about the East Tower or Shaw areas, or the Hill?
I think the question is, what are the other criteria that are driving you?
April 30th, 2009 at 2:21 pm
Criteria… hm.
I have such an inmate mentality. I grew up in a room I didn’t pick, and then moved into whatever dorm I was assigned to with its furniture bolted into the walls, then into apartments that had whatever appliances/cabinets/square footage they had. It was already settled, there was nothing to be done about it, and I didn’t care. I never thought, “I love this apartment.” I thought, “I love this rent,” or “I can walk to the Esquire.” That was the first thirty years. Now, to approach everything differently!
It has to have another kid’s bedroom and a space I can claim as an office. Gotta have that yard. Can’t be on one of the busiest streets in town again.
We’ve come close in Dogtown, but we haven’t done much southern exploration yet.
I think this exercise is proving to be immensely helpful. I am grateful for the feedback!
April 30th, 2009 at 4:52 pm
I’ve lived in two great neighborhoods in my life. The first, you will remember, was in Parkview in St. Louis; a weird amalgam of the financially-well-off, Catholic mega-breeders, boho-yuppie types, and snooty people who dreamed of living in large old brick houses.
The second is my present neighborhood in Astoria, Queens.
The neighborhoods bear no similarity to each by any logistical measure (income, race, background)- but both were (and potentially are- I don’t really know Parkview anymore) of excellent people.
Without neighbors, there is no such thing as a neighborhood.
Things that I look for in a neighborhood- proximity to other houses. Actual sidewalks. A public park nearby that people actually use. A school system nearby that people actually use. Common use forces neighbors into neighborliness. Which is a good thing.
With regard to kid-integration, proximity to the city, etc. I wouldn’t worry so much about your child making her first white friend in college- don’t waste brain cells fighting a war that’s pretty lately been won by the good guys. I wouldn’t worry too much about being near the city as you’re a parent now and that concern will likely move more into the rear view mirror over the next ten years anyway.
Public transportation nearby would be excellent. How nice if you could read illustrated adult literature on the bus on the way to work. Or the metrolink.
To sum up. Neighbors. Sidewalks. Parks. Public Transportation. Move into a community that you can be part of. Rather than an isolated window you can look out of.
May 1st, 2009 at 3:48 pm
I agree with Ken on several counts, but I do think that if your skin crawls, you can’t be happy. Worrying about integration isn’t just something that you prioritize for Libby — you clearly prioritize it for yourself as well. I will add that 1) your child will be raised with your values, regardless of the people down the street, 2) have you thought about U City, south of the Loop? I have a lot of WashU faculty friends there that love their neighbors, walk to public transportation and the SAME movie theater you walk to now, and just feel safer about it than you do, while they sit in their yards looking at their gardens and sipping drinks ranging from fresh lemonade to mountain dew to Natty Light to Heineken to mojitos to white russians to 40-yr-old scotch, and 3) i think diversity should be measured by how many drinks your fridge and pantry can make for you.
May 3rd, 2009 at 4:23 am
Move to Norwood, Ohio. That’s what I want everyone to do.
June 3rd, 2009 at 2:06 pm
I recently went through something like this. After college at SLU, I lived on the Hill, then the Tower Grove South area, then in a condo in the Debaliviere neighborhood. Now I live in Glen Ellyn, a suburb or Chicago something like Kirkwood. My daughter’s about the age of yours and this is what I found most important in my experience:
1. Having a lot of other young families around. I had no idea how important this was until it accidetally occurred but it gives the little one kids to play with and mom and dad people to socialize with since most people without kids really don’t want to hang around with parents.
2. Mature trees, sidewalks and nearby shopping districts go a long way toward replacing what lving in the city provides. I find the marginal decrease in options is offset by the peace of mind from statistically better security. The thrill of walking around wondering will or won’t this person mug me became a lot less charming after our daughter was born. If you can walk/bike to free standing businesses (not in a strip mall) and not cross a major intersection to get there, you probably won’t miss the city that much.
3. Then again, I’m a libertarian, so you might want to disregard this post.
June 27th, 2009 at 8:11 pm
Jim I know you know who I am. Logis, Deer Valley, SAM. contact me please.
July 19th, 2009 at 10:54 pm
New York??? People???? Meh…. My husband “dragged” me to a small town for finacial reasons, and I have grown to appreciate it. “Traffic” is when you sit in a long line of cars for 4 minutes at a stop sign (usually due to a funeral procession or train). Shopping is a major drawback – but we wait for the weekends. Quiet, nature, privacy, all pluses.