Where are you from?

The debate yesterday sparked my interest in place-making and our self-defined identities. While most of America resides in the suburbs, my first memory of a suburb was visiting my cousins, who lived just outside of Atlanta, in a town called Suwanee. Their house was large, narrow, and tall, and my mother referred to the yards in the neighborhood as “postage stamps” because they were just slightly larger than the houses on them. In comparison, our neighborhood in rural Georgia boasted an average of one acre per lot at an affordable price. In my hometown, your neighborhood became your sort of identity. When asked where you live, your answer revealed your socioeconomic status, the depth of your roots in the town, and, consequently, your social status. For example, if you lived in a neighborhood called Beaumont, which was gated, had massive properties and houses, and had several amenities, you were part of the town’s social elite with generational ties to the community and political power in your back pocket.

I noticed a similar trend when I started college away from my hometown. Many of the students had previously lived in the suburbs of Atlanta. Students would begin their introductions with, “Where are you from?” which led to either of two responses from the procurer: a gracious acceptance of a nearby suburb and comments on mutual friends or places OR an uninterested “Oh, where is that?”.

While the concept of suburbia has become part of the American identity, Americans’ valuation of where we live is not only tied to the suburbs. In rural America, our neighborhoods are part of our identity, and neighborhoods within cities are just as entwined (I’m thinking Belmont, Buckhead, Midtown in Atlanta, the boroughs of New York City, and furthermore, the neighborhoods within those boroughs, Upper and Lower East and West sides). Americans are place-making individuals, whether that be our neighborhoods, towns, or even universities. Communities can exist in very large or very small places.