Dorie Morgan’s Rising Up
Navigating Twenty-Something Suburban Life
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Archive of "Suburbs" Category
Wasteful Spending in Suburbia
I don’t usually think of myself as a wasteful person. I don’t like to think that I throw my resources away. I would like to think of myself as a person who consciously uses the things in my life.
Should I mention again that I live in the suburbs?
The suburbs are a wasteful place. It is difficult to live here without your own vehicle. Carpooling is a suburban myth – sure, you could carpool but if you wanted to share your space with other people, you would live in the city.
The suburbs are also based entirely on consumerism. Here we keep up with the Jones’. We also keep up with the Smith’s (I heard they bought a brand new car), the Johnson’s (they are remodeling their kitchen, sweetheart, when are we going to remodel our kitchen, I need granite countertops) and everyone else on the block (Honey, do something, someone might get ahead of us).
But we don’t like to say we’re “keeping up”. Mainly because “keeping up” really means “falling behind”. Instead we are “getting ahead” and “living up to our potential”. Both of those terms translate into “I can’t stop to take a vacation or I could lose all of my stuff”.
Translation: this is a wasteful life.
We waste our money on things we cannot afford. We waste our time in ridiculous commutes because we live so far away from where the jobs are located. We waste our families because we fail to instill a sense of community in our children.
We waste.
We have so much and yet we value so little of it.
We like to be trendy. We go green, rarely because we genuinely care about the world we are leaving for our children but because everyone else is going green. We don’t want to be left out.
We build a false sense of community on trends. Those trends make us feel like we are apart of something bigger than ourselves but because trends quickly pass, we are constantly looking for the next thing that will make us fill connected. And if we are the first to discover something new and trendy, it makes us feel as if we are more valuable than everyone around us.
It is shallow.
I want to change. I want to change the way suburbia lives but I have to change the way I live first.
I’m starting a savings challenge with myself today. I have to be honest: this is not the first time I’ve had a savings challenge. Usually, my challenges consist of no lattes for as long as I can bear or no new shoes or only peanut butter and jelly until I’m malnourished.
This savings challenge will be much more balanced. No wacky extremes. Just serious questions: How often do I really need to have my eyebrows waxed? How much food do we really need to buy at the grocery store? If I buy the cheaper item, will I have to replace it next month?
I’ll be sticking with it for 30 days. Wish me luck.
Guest Post: Support your local everything
Last Tuesday, I published a guest post by Gary Alloway, where he wrote about disconnection and suburban poverty. This week, Gary is writing about the changes we all need to make in our communities. Check out last week’s post and I hope you take part in the conversation.
“Support Your Local Everything!” I saw this bumper sticker in a local coffee shop recently. The coffee shop was supplying coffee for over 20 businesses in the area. They provided quick, personal service when their equipment broke down. They bought many of their ingredients from local vendors. And they paid their employees a livable wage along with benefits. I wrote previously that what makes suburban poverty unique is the experience of disconnection. Therefore, the solution to suburban poverty is building healthy communities. This begins with a sense of locality.
Do you live in suburbia? Who lives in your community? What are their values? What makes your community unique? What does your town smell like? Most people in suburbia cannot answer these questions because our geographical identity and culture is not determined by where we are, but by an urban center that is 20 miles away. In college, a friend of mine took a course on city planning where every student was asked to write about a place of interest. Every urbanite and small towner wrote about his or her community. Not a single suburbanite did. Suburbanites are not taught to be aware of where they live (an ignorance facilitated by large tracts of unincorporated sprawl with no centralization). Tackling suburban poverty begins with opening our eyes to our communities. We will not take ownership of our community until we actually know where we are and are proud of it.
If you need help with this, I suggest walking or biking in your community. (This will be awkward in most suburbs, but do it anyway). At a slower speed, we see the ways our communities are put together. We will find historic houses, small creeks, and interesting people. But we will also see the low-income workers waiting for the bus. We see the prostitute who always hangs out at the budget motel. We notice the apartment complex where the paint is peeling off. At 75 mph, these are blurs. At walking speed, we actually see the suburban poor.
Proximity allows us to help the poor in more meaningful ways. It is very difficult to integrate someone into your life when they live 30 miles away. When they are your neighbors, you can invite them to church, have them over for dinner, help them find a job, or give them a ride to a doctor’s appointment. In relationship, the poor stop being a project and start being people. Poverty is a dehumanizing experience. Relationship is just as necessary for healing as any sort of financial assistance. Locality allows us to have real relationships with the poor rather than just writing a check and crossing charity off our to do list. Relationships contribute to healthy communities, rather than quick fixes.
And any healthy community must have strong local business. Local businesses provide jobs and will not move these jobs the second cheaper workers become available somewhere else. They are more likely to support local charities and advocate on local issues, rather than doing their corporate responsibility by sending a large check to a large, disconnected charity. Local businesses also have accountability. When an owner is a neighbor to their employee, he is far less likely to pay exploitative wages. When an owner is a neighbor, she is far less likely to do ecological or economic damage to the larger community. And money put into local business is far more likely to stay within your community and actually trickle down, rather than build up corporate headquarters a thousand miles away. Many local businesses cannot compete with the flashiness or locations of the chains, so you may not even know they are there. Take your time. Open your eyes to your community.
Also hidden in our suburban communities are the saints who have been working with the poor for decades. Poverty is a huge issue and frankly, we lack the funds and the expertise to make a dent in the larger issues. But in partnership, we are able to bring together resources, ideas, and leadership in ways that can change a community. So we need to know who is at work in our community. Our church talked for years of starting a community center in our warehouse space. The only problem was that such a project would probably cost $100,000 to start, meaning it would never actually happen. As we went into our community, we discovered that our township had been planning community events, but lacked a meeting space. We are currently in discussion about hosting community events that they would fund and staff. A local mindset breeds connections and partnerships that are necessary for healthy community.
In a culture obsessed with the bottom line, we often lose sight of beauty. Most suburban communities are not built to be beautiful. There is little value placed upon green space. Architecture is based upon convenience rather than style. Things like murals and landscaping are neglected because nobody is on foot. The arts are left to the city. The poor need good jobs. The poor need real relationships. But the poor also need beauty. And the lack of beauty in our communities makes us all poor. Beauty is a tough sell in communities obsessed with upping the tax base. But if we have pride in our communities then we will desire them to be attractive and unique. And hopefully we will make them beautiful.
Overcoming suburban poverty is not about diverting that donation from Africa to Levittown. It is about building healthy communities – communities where the poor can find decent housing and good jobs, communities that have relational networks of support, and communities where people care for their neighbors. This is a multifaceted and deeply complex. But it begins with a local awareness that is so often lacking in suburbia. Want to help the suburban poor? Support your local everything.
Guest Post: Disconnection and Suburban Poverty
Today’s guest post was written by Gary Alloway. Gary is a graduate of Penn State and Princeton Theological Seminary. He is also a part time pastor at The Well. Hassling Gary is a hobby for Brian and I (more so for me, Brian might just be along for the ride) - at the moment, my favorite thing to hassle him is whether he is Gen X or Gen Y and his preference for Bright Eyes.
This is the first of two posts by Gary about suburban poverty. I hope it makes you a little uncomfortable and I hope it makes you want to change something.
When most people think of poverty in America, they think urban or rural. Yet more than half of those in poverty in America live in suburbia. Bucks County (where I live) is one of the wealthiest counties in Pennsylvania, yet 5% of the county lives below the poverty line. While the problems of suburban poverty often mirror those of the city, the defining characteristic of suburban poverty is disconnection.
In suburbia, communities do not function as integrated units. We do not know the neighbors. We rarely walk anywhere in the community. We do not know who owns the stores in which we shop. Public places, such as parks, community centers, or local cafes, almost never serve as meeting points. As a result, all of our relational encounters are voluntary. And birds of a feather flock together. To the middle class, the poor become invisible. We do not see them, hear them, or know them. Most people in suburbia are ignorant of the poverty in their own backyard. It is common for churches and other community organizations to seek to help the poor, driving past the budget motel and the low-end apartment complex on their way to the inner-city.
Because we are disconnected from those in poverty, we do not build communities that accommodate the poor. Low-income housing is neglected in favor of faceless high-end housing that will increase the tax base (as though someone who buys a characterless house on a characterless street in a characterless town will have a great investment in the community). The poor are forced to scrape for housing they cannot afford. Budgets become fragile, making homelessness a real threat. Those who can afford housing often do so by working hours that disconnect them from their families.
When low-income housing is built, it is usually tucked away behind the strip mall or next to the railroad tracks or off the highway; places we drive by at 75 mph and hence, never see. The end result is very small ghettos – pockets of poverty that mirror the worst inner-city neighborhoods, but due to their size and location, are invisible. It is hard to overlook the 25 square miles of poverty in North Philadelphia (though we do our best). It is very easy to overlook the apartment complex. We do not know the poor, so we do build communities that accommodate the poor and their isolation is furthered. Disconnection breeds disconnection.
This disconnection is difficult to overcome because suburbia presumes the automobile. Without a car in suburbia, you are screwed. I work with single parents trying to overcome poverty in Bucks County. Imagine trying to coordinate day care, a job, school, and visits to your case manager when you live in a town where the bus comes once an hour to a stop that is half a mile away. Imagine getting to the grocery store and back. The middle class do not ride public transportation so they do not invest in it. And the bus becomes the ghetto, a small convoy of the poor, disconnected from their community.
Even the most motivated person has trouble overcoming suburban poverty. I used to work at a homeless shelter in downtown Denver and within a ten-minute walk, one could reach the free clinic, the day shelter, the food bank, the social security office, and hundreds of jobs. But while I was there, gentrification was dispersing poverty, pushing the poor into the outer rings of the city and into suburbia. Bucks County has many social programs to help the poor, from welfare to job training programs. But they are disconnected. The locations are disconnected. The organizations are disconnected. Those who take advantage of them will find themselves trying to put together a puzzle of pieces that don’t create a clear picture.
Urban ghettos can be places of immense oppression, where the depth of suffering is palpable. But urban ghettos can also be places where tragedy binds residents together in vibrant community. The suburban poor are more likely to find themselves alone – isolated from communities where prosperity is the norm – a silent anhedonic suffering. Physically, socially, and spiritually, suburban poverty is an experience of disconnection.
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