To the ‘Save Our Downtowns’ of the world: Let’s have a little chat
The Tribune recently published an online opinion piece bemoaning the loss of SLO’s “small town charm.”
It didn’t seem to get much traction, evidence that such opinions are neither new nor interesting.
If you didn’t catch it, we’ll summarize it for you: Two gentlemen begin, just like so many have before them, with “SLO was better when...”
The authors take a few paragraphs to list downtown’s many sins, but most of their word count is devoted to the woes of any building taller than three stories. The barest of lip service is paid to concerns over high rents and mobility issues, and practical policies to address those concerns are left out.
The viewpoint concludes with what can only be described as the top hits from the “That’s What I Call NIMBY” album: shadows, nostalgic pastoralism and a collective “we” that is presumptuous at best.
It would have been satire if it hadn’t left us so confused. The authors state that when SLO “was smaller, it provided us with a family friendly…environment.”
Respectfully, who is this “us” you’re referring to? Does it include anyone who is raising a family in 2022? Because SLO offers family friendly amenities — including some that weren’t available decades ago — but among the many things a city can do to be family friendly, providing accessible housing is top of mind.
Why was that missing from your long list of complaints? Secondly, when exactly was this time when SLO was small? When folks your age were raising kids in SLO, from the early 60s to the early 80s, the city experienced three times as much growth as it’s having now. Our county seat has seen rapid, consistent population jumps from when the railroad arrived in 1897 through the 1990s.
It’s only in recent decades that we’ve seen a tempering in growth, despite consistent demand to find homes here. Given this, we have to assume the environment you’re longing for is not related to the number of people in our community, right?
A desire for fewer neighbors due to fears of environmental rationing, often dubbed “ecofascism,” is not a trait to be proud of, let alone print in the newspaper.
Equally perplexing is the idea that two professors emeriti of architecture, with nearly a century of experience between them, have never encountered an acceptable four-story building.
What about the Anderson hotel, at six stories? Or the buildings that burned down before any of us got here?
Shorter buildings cost less due to the lack of elevators, yes, but would you go so far as to confine those of us in wheelchairs and walkers to ground level?
Perhaps the patio of the six-story building approved for 1144 Chorro St. will be the best way a disabled person can enjoy Cerro San Luis.
It seems not only shortsighted, but also uncreative to prohibit construction that can finance important mobility aids like elevators.
This doesn’t make sense coming from respected instructors at a practical school whose motto is “Learn By Doing.” What gives?
We, the leadership team of SLO County YIMBY (Yes In My Backyard), invite you to think about what it really means to be a small town. Does it include access to two community colleges and a world class university? Or art galleries and award-winning wines? Does it mean more than a third of adults hold a bachelor’s degree? What about a $200 million municipal budget?
As far as we can tell, small towns catch heat for their residents’ lack of dental care, not their lack of free parking. What kind of small towns are you visiting?
Where we absolutely agree is on the overwhelmingly destructive effects that vehicle dominance has had on our landscape, air quality, enjoyment of public space and affordability. It’s because of cars that so many elderly and disabled folks cannot simply take a convenient bus, bike, or walk around the corner to run their errands and rub shoulders with their neighbors.
It is cars, not tall buildings, that devour space that would otherwise be used for benches, sculpture, parks and housing. It is cars, not shadows, that rob us of experiencing our town and the people in it at a “SLO” pace — one that lends itself to the small town charm that many, including yourselves, ardently miss.
It is in knowing our neighbors, and being known by them, that we encounter the comfort and warmth of small town living. What SLO has lost in recent decades is not architectural gems but the humans, and their relationships, who make up the fabric of our community.
High rents, long commutes and the idolatry of the single-occupancy vehicle have left communities fractured across our sunny valley. A place can only be lovable if it is first loved by its people. What time is there for love when the rent is late?
We invite those mourning the loss of the SLO they once knew to ask themselves if what they’re missing isn’t a hillside view, but rather a connection to the people they used to share it with.
How many of them are still here? And how much longer will you be able to stay, unless someone builds a place for you to go?
Krista Jeffries, Kevin Buchanan, Audrey Bigelow, Rachel Mann and Kristin Horowitz are lead organizations of SLO County YIMBY, an advocacy group for abundant, affordable housing and transportation. Reach the leadership team at sloco@yimbyaction.org and learn more about us at www.slocoyimby.org
This story was originally published January 30, 2022 at 6:00 AM.