I would have killed for a cup of coffee last weekend. And I almost did.
We moved to a quiet quasi-suburban section of San Francisco a few months ago, forsaking a neighborhood surrounded by probably 20 coffee shops within walking distance to one with exactly zero. So if it’s a desperate Saturday morning and I’m out of coffee, it’s into the car I go.
I hate taking the car out solo for one-stop errands, but hated it all the more so because Bo, the cat who lives down the street, has the unfortunate pastime of sleeping under cars. I had just started to back up when I saw him haring out from underneath and stopped short. I’m a slow driver so there probably wasn’t any real danger, but just try to tell that to my adrenal gland.
At least I didn’t need the coffee so much anymore.
Still, the incident of the suicidal cat was a rare flash of terror in this otherwise healthy, sedate neighborhood. Many things changed when we moved up here, among them:
- People come over for dinner here.
- Neighbors know our names, and my daughter’s, too.
- Everyone comments on our garden, and the neighbors’ gardens. (And on the neighbors themselves, for that matter.)
- You can walk down the block barefoot — no chunks of concrete, canine “surprises,” or broken glass lie in wait.
On the down side, though:
- People rarely leave their houses without good reason, although that may relate to the fact that July in San Francisco rivals Antarctica — it’s freezing!
- Everyone in this neighborhood comes from roughly the same socioeconomic level.
That last drawback brought back to me an old question: in what kind of neighborhood do I want to raise our two-year old daughter Fern and her sister on the way?
I loved our old Bohemian, diverse neighborhood in a dense part of the City. Fern interacted people of different races and classes unaware of any difference. Every day, we’d chat with the day workers waiting for jobs to support their families; most of the stores featured their owners right there behind the counter; retirees and students and everyone in between mixed at the corner grocery. And, this being San Francisco, there was even a smattering of the surprisingly wealthy: a Lexus and a beat-up pickup would share the same street.
Then again, the semi-suburban lifestyle is growing on me. Just today I helped hunt for one neighbor’s lost cat collar. I loaned another my ladder so she could sneak into her own house. And I dropped in on a third for a glass of wine — just went over unannounced like I’ve heard they do in the Midwest and the South and small towns everywhere. It’s like what people say about Wisconsin: people are just nice here.
The choice is stark: by choosing a safer, more comfortable neighborhood to raise our family, are we teaching Fern that people should live nearby others of the same background? But by choosing an urban setting would we imply that neighborliness is not that important?
We’ve made our decision: we’re in the quiet, friendly section of town now. But I walk the fence when I can: even here, I will try to expose Fern and her sister to people that aren’t just like her. Ultimately I want to show them that our community is defined by a heck of a lot more than a tax bracket.
And, in the meantime, I’ll be brewing a lot of coffee at home.
by Doodaddy
Photo graciously provided by bullish1974, through a Creative Commons license, some rights reserved
5 responses so far ↓
slouching mom // Jul 25, 2008 at 5:09 am
what a thoughtful post.
as a former new yorker living in a small town, i wrestle with these kinds of issues vis a vis my kids.
i don’t want them to grow up insulated and conservatively naive because of it.
Gary Walter // Jul 25, 2008 at 8:28 am
Several years ago, longer than I care to admit, a friend and I rode our motorcycles south to SF. It was an unplanned trip that led to some great adventures and serendipitous ad-hoc friendships. I fell in love with SF and was ready to move. The career prospects were good and the “bohemian” lifestyle fit right in with my PDX values.
I almost did the same thing on a similar trip to Hawaii, but that’s another story.
I didn’t make either move, but I’ve had other adventures in the past 20 years - one of which involved getting married and having kids.
Two years ago I had to attend a conference in San Mateo. We generally set aside extra time to travel when someone else is paying the airfare; so we planned to spend a few days in downtown SF. We were anxious for this mini-vacation, my wife had never been to SanFran, and I was excited to show her the city I fell in love with a couple of decades ago.
However, as a former paramedic, who has intimate knowledge of the inner-city, I quickly determined that I couldn’t relax. The safety of my wife and one and a half year old daughter were too overwhelming for me.
I wasn’t paranoid, mind you, I was just concerned. And when my daughter toddled into an open elevator and almost disappeared, I realized that I didn’t enjoy the city that much.
We recently moved to a semi-rural community about an hour from Portland. We have our own 1/2 acre and a large undeveloped forest adjacent to our property. We make routine trips into the city to explore culture, diversity, and connections - but we enjoy the freedom of allowing our now three y.o. daughter to go outside and play, without direct supervision.
Before this we lived in some sterile Colorado suburbs, that was boring, dry, and culturally stagnant. We feel blessed to have found this Pacific Northwest paradise.
While in Portland last Tuesday, my wife and I commented on the eclectic, bohemian subculture of the neighborhood (like we do in most neighborhoods we visit), but we always come back to the safety and freedom that we have here in the country.
Not everyone has the options or the choices we’ve been able to create, so I don’t judge others for where they live. But for us, listening to the wind blow through the trees, watching deer, raccoons, squirrels, and all manner of birds in our backyard, and being able to let our dog run free - this is how we find serenity in an increasingly busy society.
Our kids will learn openness and diversity through our example in our multi-cultural choice of friends. They will learn service and understanding through our intentional acts of community service. But they will do this from the safety of a sanctuary we call home.
Doodaddy » My Own Private Wisconsin // Jul 25, 2008 at 12:29 pm
[…] I wrote all about it today over at GNM Parents; to read the whole post (and get the whole scoop about the suicidal cat), click here. […]
STL Mom // Jul 25, 2008 at 12:36 pm
Oh, I understand this feeling. We recently moved to another state, and considered living in the city. However, instead we chose to live in an upper-middle-class suburb that is 88% white and 72% of the adults have a bachelor’s degree or higher. It is also the friendliest place I have ever lived. There is a weekly neighborhood cocktail party, and the kids on the street will walk up and ask your kid to play (this first happened on the day we moved in). The adults stop to chat on the sidewalk when they run into each other. From what we hear, the schools are fantastic. Our realtor lives in the next town over, and she confessed that she never locks her door. It’s almost like that movie “Pleasantville”, except that there are many roads leading out of town.
It’s a very safe and friendly place, but it does lack diversity and excitement. Like Gary, I’ll have to provide those things when we leave our new home town.
Graham "Doodaddy" Charles // Jul 25, 2008 at 4:59 pm
Exactly my thoughts — we ourselves have loved the urban lifestyle, find it valuable in various ways, and so we’ll work hard to make sure that our kids get exposed to it as much (and as safely!) as possible.
Still, it’s not quite the same as living right in it as I did when I was a kid, but then again, we didn’t get out much…
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