I bought Sierra foothill property in the 80s when prices were cheap compared to today. My new neighbors laughed big belly laughs when I told them how much I paid for my acreage then. They practically roll on the forest floor when price listings are posted. We all do.
After 13 years of living here full time, I consider myself a resident, but I'm still a newcomer to many of the folks I see at the the Country Store or who lift a hand to wave on any dirt road back up here.
The children of the '70s in-migrants are trying to make their homes here and it's tremendously expensive to buy in.
There's that, and there's the feeling of belonging, or not.
I still meet folks who I've seen for years at the gas station, but whose names I've never known, until we stuffed envelopes together for the Cultural Center mailing or pulled blackberries on a meadow restoration project. Belonging seems to be on an 'as-needed' basis up here.
And we could talk about diversity in one of the whitest counties in the state. Or racism and homophobia in redneck rural California. I've always said that I much prefer the bluntness of hearing such blurting from one of the guys I'm working with on the volunteer fire department than the smug, deception of urban liberals who are proud to take a lesbian to lunch. At least here, I'm in the conversation with someone who shares a sense of community values with me. I'm a part of their world and they a part of mine.
And if you're talking conservation, then community *is* definitely needed. All aspects of the community must come together to protect open spaces, restore community treasures, and make decisions for now and for the future of the people who now make up the communities.
from an '80s in-migrant
After 13 years of living here full time, I consider myself a resident, but I'm still a newcomer to many of the folks I see at the the Country Store or who lift a hand to wave on any dirt road back up here.
The children of the '70s in-migrants are trying to make their homes here and it's tremendously expensive to buy in.
There's that, and there's the feeling of belonging, or not.
I still meet folks who I've seen for years at the gas station, but whose names I've never known, until we stuffed envelopes together for the Cultural Center mailing or pulled blackberries on a meadow restoration project. Belonging seems to be on an 'as-needed' basis up here.
And we could talk about diversity in one of the whitest counties in the state. Or racism and homophobia in redneck rural California. I've always said that I much prefer the bluntness of hearing such blurting from one of the guys I'm working with on the volunteer fire department than the smug, deception of urban liberals who are proud to take a lesbian to lunch. At least here, I'm in the conversation with someone who shares a sense of community values with me. I'm a part of their world and they a part of mine.
And if you're talking conservation, then community *is* definitely needed. All aspects of the community must come together to protect open spaces, restore community treasures, and make decisions for now and for the future of the people who now make up the communities.
Participation is belonging.
Catherine Stifter