Post No. 400: Thorns in my urbanist side

"Sermon of St. Paul Amidst the Ruins" by Giovanni Paolo Pannini (1691-1765) (Wikimedia commons)

Therefore, to keep me from being too elated, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I appealed to the Lord about this, that it would leave me... (2 Corinthians 12:7b-8, NRSV)

Paul described himself as being plagued by a (surely metaphorical) thorn in part of a long passage where he defended himself against critics in the church he had established in the Greek city of Corinth. What was that pesky thorn? Leaving aside sci-fi explanations (Gooder 2006), it could have been a chronic illness, a physical disability, one or more persistent critics, or even homosexuality (Spong 1992; a long list of historians' conjectures is in J. Paul Sampley, "The Second Letter to the Corinthians," in The New Interpreter's Bible [Nashville: Abingdon, 2000], XI, 162-168).

Whatever it was, Paul clearly felt it was important to God that it remain (v. 9), and that it served the function of keeping him "from being too elated." As he traveled the Mediterranean world, convincing people to become Christians, his message arguably was made more effective because the Christian life was (somehow) not easy for him, either.

Having taken this blog into its eighth year, and today reaching another milestone post, I remain committed to the urbanist approach to place making. Yet though I may spray words into the Internet like the Trump administration spraying tear gas into our cities, I should tell you that living my urbanism has not been as easy as I would like. Urbanist solutions, it would seem, are easier said that done, and it's important that I know this. It's important for you, beloved reader, to know that I know this.

1. I am an introvert. I have handled the pandemic shutdown--in Iowa, it's been a sort-of-shutdown--with remarkable aplomb because I was already somewhat inclined to social distancing. I don't like crowds, noise, or unstructured social situations, and after awhile being around even nice people tires me. I prefer a quiet evening at home, and have rather enjoyed the extent to which the pandemic has forced more of these to occur. Enough of such evenings adds up to a boring life, and I understand the need for human interactions of various levels of intensity. I want to help build my city. I wish it weren't so tiring, but it helps me relate to others' reluctance to participate and/or need for places of quiet retreat (See also Kelly 2020).
2. The dementors next door. Urbanism is rooted in strong neighborhoods, and neighborhoods are made out of neighbors. Neighbors are made by everyday interaction, not merely by physical proximity (Marohn 2020). But some people are... difficult. There is, to be specific, one couple in my neighborhood who I avoid as much as I can. Years of complaints, criticism, and unsolicited advice flowing from them to us has made me chary of any encounter I can possibly avoid. That's not very urbanist of me, is it? And yet there remain some people who are toxically negative, violent, manipulative, or hateful (see Peck 1983; Martha Nussbaum, The Monarchy of Fear [Simon & Schuster, 2018], esp. pp. 81-84). The neighboring couple dwell well within my circle of care, but nothing I say or do is going to change them. My own preservation limits my neighborliness.

One thing I missed: coffeehouses. Trying to catch up!

 

So I struggle, and as I do, I recognize that urbanism is not always pleasant or easy. If it were, there would be no need for me to write about it! Speaking of which, the most read posts since April of  '13:

1. A Silent But Needful Protest, 1 November 2016 [Coe College responds to the defacing of Multicultural Fusion posters]
2. Snout Houses? In Oakhill-Jackson??, 16 October 2016 [Suburban style development in a historic Cedar Rapids neighborhood]
3. Crime and Our Common Life, 1 August 2016 [The mysterious rise and fall and possibly now rise of violent crime rates in America]
4. Let's Hear It for Cedar Rapids, 5 September 2016 [The Mayors Bike Ride and everything else going on Labor Day weekend]
5. Gentrification: What Do We Know? 26 July 2016 [literature review analyzing a complex and controversial phenomenon]

And in the interest of balance, the least read posts:

1. City Design after the Pandemic, 3 June 2020 [what might last, what might not]
2. Strong Towns' Bottom Up Revolution (III), 31 March 2020 [covering chapters 5-7 of Charles Marohn's book]
3. Race Relations after the Pandemic (II), 2 September 2020 [responding to the shooting of Jacob Blake in Kenosha]
4. Halloween 2013, 1 November 2013 [Halloween as civic holiday] 
5. Maple Syrup Festival, 1 March 2014 [a community rite of spring in Cedar Rapids!]
6. Interesting Place for a College, 17 April 2014 [a sense of place at Park University]

Whether this is the 400th post you've read, or the first, thanks for sticking with me!