The other day I was driving through town, and passed a couple gated communities. They seem to be on the increase in this town, and less "neighborly" to me in some ways than many of the smaller enclave-like ones I remember going up twenty years ago.
A little later, while in a common "merchant area" part of town, I thought about what these folks are erecting fences against, and why gated communities are built in the first place. As I sat there, I imagined the hammered lowrider in front of me -- clearly still a project-in-progress -- cruising from the barrio it likely came from to the streets of two of the newer gated communities I'd seen. What would be the reaction, if that man and his car were just driving down the street... in a neighborhood filled with rolled-out turf, faux stone construction, and shiny, dirtless SUV's? In my mind, I could sense and imagine the unspoken tension.
A phrase came to me during that thought, and I imagined it on little yard signs, like people put out during election time. The phrase was this: "Gated communities aren't communities."
I'm not sure it's entirely accurate, because I think in some cases gated communities are communities -- but they are communities unto themselves. To me they feel Isolated, cutoff, a walled-off patch from the greater community-at-large. It doesn't feel like they add to the vibrancy of a town.
Maybe we could singularize it, to change the emphasis: "Gated communities aren't community."
Hmmm....
Anyway, this morning I read Rich Hansen's intro to an article on a local project here in Visalia. It reminded me of my thoughts the other day as I was driving through various parts of town:
What is the role of a faith-based organization in a secular, pluralistic culture? Can our society move beyond people withdrawing into polarized, ideological camps and then applauding those who say extreme, outlandish or hateful things about the other side? Is it possible to carry deep personal convictions and still cooperate with those who hold different convictions?
He has some interesting thoughts. Worth reading, in my opinion.
What do you think?
Gated and security-protected communities are an eyesore. When I see homes all cramped together with huge wrought iron fences protecting them against the rest of the world, I feel quite happy knowing that I don't have to key in a series of digits starting and ending in # and *, then waiting FOREVER for a slow-@ss mechanical fence that makes 90's horror-flick movie zombies look like marathon runners. No thanks!
I don't blame my dad for living close to the mountains.
Posted by: Kevin Medeiros | September 12, 2008 at 02:13 PM
On my street it's a free-for-all. There is a set of neighbors that parties Thu-Sun. Quads and dirt bikes race, kids on scooters, skateboards, bikes, etc., constantly. With the exception of the ultra-loud music that everyone feels everyone wants to hear, the occasional dirt bike race, the loud driveway party after midnight, and the driveway fire that has on occasion been left unattended in windy/dry weather, it's an OK area. We have our speeders cutting through to avoid red-lights, and the occasional break-in, as well as the requisite trash folk. Some of that we would like to be rid of, but I would take that over the lobotomized pace in The Lakes.
Posted by: Joe Stanton | October 12, 2008 at 09:50 PM