Examining the social consequences of the built environment...
Around sixty years ago, an extremely present thinking America began its prolonged consumption of the American landscape. Fueled by cheap oil, we began carving low density "communities" into the raw material of the country side. In a sort of perverse irony, a mass desire for "country living" was satisfied only by destroying the country and living where it once was. It's no wonder so many suburbanites continue to go unsatisfied, unsure of why big screen tv's, home theater surround sound systems, video game consoles and algea filled above ground swimming pools continously leave them in want of something more.
Much of America now lives in a sort of pergatory between city and country. Rows of garage doors and streets that mindlessly wind like the kind of bad graffiti you see on bathroom stalls or dumpsters in the loop... reminding the hills and trees that we were here and that we have overcome them. A vast number of citizens left their cities behind in the heat of desegregation, rising crime rates, and the highway boom that made for their escape. These highways, like the tunnels of light people claim to see before they die, entranced a nation and began to drain our densly populated urban cores into the swampland of suburbia. And like that light, it seems more often than not to lead where people go to die... certainly not to live. Along with the citizens, the highways (or freeways) took with them our efficient systems of public transit, many of our walkable communities, a good number of convenient corner stores, local services, and in many cases our common sense. I've seen evidence that most suburbanites have no idea what we mean when we say "mom and pop shops." Much of the current generation has grown up on Wal-Mart and Shop 'n' Save and have never experienced a traditional neighborhood with real small businesses. And thus they fail to appreciate its beauty.
Yet for those of us who grew up in suburbia, we know how much we wanted to be anywhere but there. Kids will turn their streets and cultisacs into imaginary urban spaces, places to congregate and socialize. If you lived in a post-war suburb, you would have been fortunate to live in a neighborhood that had anything to do within walking distance, or even a sidewalk to get there on. And because of the way the suburbs have been constructed, many Americans associate having a car with "freedom". And for one living in suburbia, it is freedom. It's a way to escape the banality of living at the dead end of a neighborhood with only one way out. It's not until you learn the joys of driving 80 miles a day to work in rush hour traffic and filling your gas tank up three times a week with the ever more costly "cheap oil" we based our lives around that you start to question the kind of "freedom" having a car brings...
The reality is, you later learn, that the automobile is just the first step into a self-imposed captivity and isolation. And not on a monetary scale, but on a social scale. By the time you are a career man or woman, you discover that you are held captive by the suburbanization of America. Your life is lived entirely inside a glass and steel bubble with complete with vinyl siding... your home, your car, your office. The typical American adult living in the suburbs becomes undersocialized, bored, and discontent. They strive to get expensive new "things" to alieviate their boredom and justify their 40 a week plus driving time. But just like a spoiled child at Christmas who got the latest talking doll, the excitement doesn't last more than a few hours or days. Soon you have the famous American "junk room"... the natural extension of the "junk drawer"... that room in the basement or the garage that collects most of the things you purchased in attempt to cure an undiagnosed lack of socialization but will never again use... that is outside of those Sundays with a couple of "the guys" spent sitting around the big screen TV that will soon be replaced with a bigger screen TV watching burly men in tight pants throw a ball around a giant field only half the size of the one infront of Wal-Mart.
It seems to me undeniable that this way of living must have an effect on the human psyche. But such has become the model for American development: Build absolutely nothing anywhere near anything. It is my premise that it is this way of living that fosters what I've called, for lack of a better term, the SUBURBAN MENTALITY.
It's been quite some time since I've been able to post on this blog. My time has been rather sparse. Hopefully now, however, I'll be able to begin the series of posts on the Urban and suburban mentalitity that initially spawned the creation of this site. Look for more coming soon.
Read more!
