Identity in a Big City

I don't want to admit it, but on a sunny day like this in November, on the weekend with everyone running around having fun, I find that I really like Washington DC. The parts I've seen, the parts I like; they all seem "good" and wholesome. I know there is a sour history of gentrification all around the city, and I am a massive beneficiary of it, and that bothers me. But everything is just so god damn perfect, so... authentic.

The main street in the Mount Pleasant neighborhood.

But the notion of a perfect, or authentic, situation is total bullshit. That vision from Dupont Circle I mentioned above is only an illusion I cannot blind myself with. I cannot assume and ascribe my positive feelings to everyone in that park or in that neighborhood. I cannot ignore the plight of the homeless begging for change, or the small business that had to close, because neither of them could afford skyrocketing rents due to the rapid growth.

Strictly speaking, authenticity for a physical object has no value assigned to it. There is nothing inherently wrong or good with a physical object meeting a standard to which it is, or is not. We can afford to use binaries when it comes to physical objects in life.

Binary for a cat in a box: You collapsed the superposition of the cat, and, by observing it, you see it is alive.
Your binary outcome is: the cat is alive. The cat is not dead.

The conflict arises when people assign a values judgement to authenticity. And this does happen. How many times were you a tourist in a place and asked: "Where do the locals go? What is the 'authentic' <insert place here>? What are the 'real' things for this place?" I would argue there is an unconscious bias at play where people don't want the "fake stuff" because it isn't "true", and therefore, it isn't "good". But is it okay to use an authenticity binary when it comes to intangible experiences?

It's not fair to judge places and cultures as non-authentic, and therefore "bad", because they still are a lived reality for many people. To claim something is "authentic" is to assign a higher value to it. To demoralize the knock-offs and the phonies. But there are still people who enjoy and like those reproductions you are slanting. Claiming their experience is "not authentic" is to demean and eventually ignore or disregard their lived reality. Many people will "forget" the non-unique places they visit, and their thought process may be: "What's the use in remembering those places and cultures that aren't the truest and purest? They don't have anything to offer for me." (Should you think like this even if it provides joy and value to others who experience it?)

Tiny town of Martinsburg, right outside of the Altoona, PA Airport. Do you think this is a non-unique place?
Does this small town abide by your stereotypes of conservative backwater people who cling to their guns and religion, and therefore don't matter? Is it "authentic" in terms of being "American"?

How about 14th Street here in DC? Do you think this a non-unique place? Does this city shot look like a harbor of refuge in the reddening of our country via the election? To you does this look like the beacon of light on the hill, and is the only place/setting that matters to drive our country forward? Is it the most "authentic" (aka correct) in the American experience?

Here in DC the accelerated growth and migration into the city provides for the forgetting of previous residents' lived experiences. There are people moving in, prompting growth, pushing out, then denying other's lived experiences. The new dense development wrecks and drives out existing local businesses. Show owners simply cannot pay the new rents. Because of the new tenants' consumer preferences about needing "authentic" (not box stores) places to shop, cheap chain replacements cannot take hold (Walmart, Kmart, Dollar Stores, etc.), so even if low income earners can somehow keep/lock in their residence, you still can't afford to eat and shop in your neighborhood. The new growth pushes out old establishments, and ensures the low and middle class do not have a place, and cannot stay.

The place gets better, but only for those who can afford it. The others are forced to move the burbs.

Suburban Baltimore, Maryland. Where the houses are cheap, but the access is thin, and the services suck.

This is the crux for me: I really like the "new money" places, and I have the privilege to enjoy them. I'm white, therefore I fit in and conform with the "new" demographic. I'm solidly middle-class with my new job, so I have disposable income to spare at the "new" expensive "authentic" shops. I'm a male, who needs not to worry or care about my safety and well-being. I'm exactly what gentrification looks like.

Southwest Waterfront, a quickly gentrifying part of DC.

But I don't want to be that. I try to contribute to the remaining local institutions. I try to fight for inclusionary zoning and learn all I can about the history of where I am. But all the "new" aspects I like in these places have done harm to others. I am conflicted.

My front "lawn" in Vancouver, Washington

"So move to the burbs and do less harm there!" you may proclaim. But I hate the suburbs. I cannot deal with the car-centric, wide-open, wasteful lifestyles the design of the burbs demand. I especially cannot deal with those demands when the very suburbs lay at the city's doorstep. I gave it a whirl for two years, and I think that's why I eventually moved away. The inefficiency and boringness of it all really drained the life out of me. In order to do anything/go anywhere I had to drive on inefficient roads, or take inefficient light rail and a joke of a bus system. There was nothing immediately around my house except for more houses, and shuttered neighbors. The "neighborhood" looked like a small inviting town, but it was as shuttered and as isolated as a high-rise apartment complex. The politics were petty, and the identity lacking.

Example of petty politics: This damn bridge. As pretty as it's hundred year old steel is, it needs replaced. Yet the local governance rejected a replacement bridge mainly because it included light rail from Portland. There are some seriously ingrained racist and classist thoughts among the more conservative in Vancouver.

While I like to slam the suburbs, I will not say they are not "authentic". I mean, as I liked to say in college: They (the suburbs) exist for a reason, so somebody has to like living in them. And I'll take the high road. I will not discredit or insult the experience of living in a burb. It is nobody's place to slander another's lived reality. And therein lies my central conflict. How do I ensure that others have the option to live my experience? Or better yet, how do I work to ensure disadvantaged people get the chance to improve their communities without getting displaced and excluded in the process?

I have the very same above questions about Warren Wilson College. The answer for the school though is a little more simple. To help anyone who wants to experience the school I loved, I give money when I can, so it can go towards helping offer scholarships and opportunities for the students who need them.

The most important takeaway I can glean is that self-determination and empowerment are key here. What I want is to uncouple "development" from "displacement". I want those living in their communities to be able to decide how and where they want to entice growth. (Raising people out of poverty starts with those very people, not some external influence coming in to tell communities how to "get better.")

Me doing a "travel training" session with some employees at my former job. I teach people how to ride, and give them some possible tools and methods to succeed. They might not be entirely useful, but I'm trying my best.

I'll keep paying steep rents to live in a community I love, and in a city I adore. I'll frequent as many old establishments as I can, get all millennial and indulge in "hip" places every now and then, and indulge myself in generic corporate chain retail therapy when I feel like it. But mostly I'll keep to my regular routine: Buy the most affordable groceries I can find, fight for transit and access for all, and try to live my life as closely to me as I can.