Daniel Stuart The Suburban Experiment:
Ralph Waldo Emerson once idealized life in
America as existing within the utmost paradise. “Here is man in the Garden of
Eden,” he stated in his lecture on “Resources,” later adding that “here [is] the
Genesis and the Exodus” from which life was to be lived to its fullest
capacities (Newfield, 34). It was hardly a commonplace sentiment when it was
delivered in 1872 though its intentions were obviously honorable. Much of the
nation was little more than a backwater in those days, barely comparable to
European standards of living (at its most desirable levels) and still healing
collectively from the staggering destruction of its Civil War not yet a decade
in the past. Yet the essence of American identity was felt; the assumption of a
largely untapped potential to achieve the greatest happiness, accommodated by
the most accessible means to attain it was within reach; and this not only for
the individual but for the type of integrated society that such philosophers as
Plato, Augustine, More and Campanella had promoted in their widely read
literature. In a sense all of their ideas came to be known as what’s more
commonly characterized as that national ethos of the American Dream, the concept
of each man’s innate right to social equality, prosperity, upward mobility and
consumer priveleges. Collectively, this dream came to symbolize--increasingly
more so with the passing of the decades--capital in the form of land and
industrial capacities as well as educational and intellectual. Private ownership
was a key staple of the period in the mid-twentieth century, a symptom of the
society which helped give birth to the American suburb and the master planned
community, itself symbolic of the modern man’s desire to live in a society free
from the cross-cultural problems which plagued urban areas and which limited the
sustainability of positive relationships and restricted family prosperity. For
millions, the suburb was the new utopia, a place engendered with all of the
qualities of life fitted helping the most honest, hard-working Americans
flourish. It offered what persons operating under middle-class values simply
couldn’t afford and what cities couldn’t offer to the burgeoning post-war
generation. But was such a new ideal civilization the equivalent of the “good
place,” that set apart world which could yield the best of what life could be?
Was it even the best possible solution to the logistic and societal inadequacies
of life? Was it even a place of coexistence at all? The following report will
address such questions regarding the accuracy of such a vision of suburbia as
utopia in America, how it has followed through on its promise in recent decades
and how pertinent are its ideals in modern society.
The first modern suburb was not quite so
romantic a notion as Plato’s city with the philosopher-kings or More’s island
utopia. Rather it retained the qualities of a solid business venture combined
with expert timing. Levittown, the brainchild of William “Bill” Levitt and his
sons, blossomed as the first modern suburb in America in the late forties and
early fifties. Its first community on Long Island could not fill the contracts
for new homes fast enough as thousands of families bought into the ideal of
affordable home ownership outside of New York City. Despite the relative
homogeneity—only four model homes ranging in price from around 10 to 20
thousand—and blandness of the cookie cutter community, more people moved away
from the city and into the heavily augmented society, complete with parks,
schools, code enforcements and the like (Allen 163). Soon several newer
Levittowns modeled after the original arose along the eastern seaboard, even in
Puerto Rico. For a while the vision really was a domestic bliss. "It was
wonderful," recalled Albert Wango, who in
1956 purchased his first home with his wife, June, for a modest sum of
$11,250 in the Philadelphia Levittown. The home had all the then-modern
appliances and, as the couple told several reporters at the development's 60th
anniversary in 2012, was a source of joy and happiness for them and their four
children (Boyer). As the idea transformed into a seemingly fabulous reality, it
wasn't long before other developers caught on to the scheme soon making the
modern suburb the new American utopia.
Larger problems much greater than casual
criticisms of conformity from sociologists loomed however. Levittown, along with
its sister communities, felt that in order to preserve the desirability of their
habitat that they needed to restrict any outside influences which may dissuade
potential buyers. This meant that discrimination was heavily enforced, a code
upheld and even verbalized by Levitt himself (a Jew).
“As a Jew, I have
no room in my heart for racial prejudice. But the plain fact is that most whites
prefer not to live in mixed communities. This attitude may be wrong morally, and
someday it may change. I hope it will” (When, 80). The policy was predominant in
many suburbs throughout much of 1950's and, in effect, helped spur the much of
the white flight phenomemenon of the following decades. Urban whites, even more
progressive liberals, increasingly had a tough choice to make in the late
fifties, sixties and seventies. They could remain in cities where violence
increased and schools declined or they could make the move to the suburbs where
much of their middle-class counterparts now lived. In a sense, however, even
though discrimination isolated the races, it diversified the more or less
multicultured white ethnicities. The move prompted not only demographic
transition but a subtle inter-ethnic amalgamation of second generation Americans
with the intermingling of Irish, Italian, Polish and other Eastern European
cultures with the more lineaged peoples of western Europe. In a sense, the WASP
stereotype and its characteristic associations so long attributed to American
establishment could no longer be relavent to the middle-class (Bloom, 63-68).
The "American mutt" was on its way.
Even
with the many drawbacks to its supposed advantages, the idea of suburban utopia
thrived (and continues to survive) owing to much more complex political reasons.
The difference in larger cities and small towns, even today, is much more than
just living conditions and the aesthetic comfort of a cozy neighborhood.
Political motives fuel the ambitions of citizens in each category; small towns
are fit for small government while urban landscapes require larger, more
intricate civil and bureaucratic networks. The lure of the suburbs, in some
sense a hybrid of the two aforementioned entities, attracts individuals from
both parties. The appeal of a smaller municipality or even unincorporated,
census-designated place allows the suburbanite to "fuse the political ideology
of the small government with the social mores of the small community" with the
added benefit, of course, of a mutually cooperative, often like-minded populace
(Wood, 17). Small towns are often as limited in their scope as they are in their
budget while larger cities are equally limited in their maneuverability. Is it
any wonder why voices from each can constantly be heard saying, in unison, that
"somebody should build a town that works"? Is it any wonder that these same
people often migrate to places in which they do?
"Your utopia is more of a fruitopia," Stephen Hawking says to Lisa after the
Council of Alpha's attempt to govern Springfield dissolves into anarchy. "I
guess everyone just has a different vision of the perfect society," is Marge's
rational reply wrapping up the third act in one of the tenth season's better
episodes (Simpsons). It is this "vision" however which cannot seem to be subdued
by reason. The suburban (or exurban) utopian ideal will always exist just as its
former urban or rural counterpart existed a priori. The Genesis will
always lead to an Exodus as Emerson's quip might be fashioned because the
yearning for better will be ever-present. It is not altogether a bad phenomenon
even if identity is sacrificed for homogeneity, or multiculturalism for a more
nurturing environment. Gone in our age is the notion that government can be
regulated successfully across the board and private property abolished, that the
needs of the masses can be met by collective enterprise. What we have now are
people yearning for a place, often (especially if they're yearning) for a "no
place" that can never be sustained in reality but can at least be experimented
with. Private Utopias ("privatopias") in the form of planned communites and
Levittowns offer that test case. And if inclined to do so, individuals wanting a
less orthodox community and lifestyle are free to participate in societies that
match their lifeworld vision. The only major obstacle, in many cases, is of
course the biggest--money. The next segment of this report will deal with the
issue of utopia as a money-contingent enterprise. It will focus on the creation
of more modern master planned communities and their essential object of
targeting portions of the population that can contribute the most to the
sustainable development of the vision. It will employ local examples as well as
other, less recognizable contemporary utopias while continuing to examine the
success and/or failure of their operation.
Works Cited
Allen, Irving
Louis, ed. New Towns and the Suburban Dream: Ideology and Utopia in Planning
and Development. Port Washington: Kennikat, 1977.
Bloom, Nicholas
Dagen. Suburban Alchemy: 1960's New Towns and the Transformation of the
American Dream. Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 2001.
Boyer, Barbara.
"Recalling The Utopia That Was Levittown" Philly.com. Online
Newfield,
Christopher. The Emerson Effect: Individualism and Submission in America.
New York: HarperCollins, 1996.
Simpsons Tenth
Season. Fox
Broadcasting Corporation. 2008
"When the Negroes
Moved into Levittown," The Journal of Blacks in Higher Education. Vol.
63. Spring 2009. pp. 80-81 Wood, Robert C. Suburbia: Its People and Their Politics. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1958.
|