When the rest of the country pulls some kind of ignorant, asinine maneuver out of its hat, like electing one of the Bush kids president-twice-it can be comforting to live in Santa Fe, where the landslide margin falls reassuringly in the opposite direction. Sure, we may be divorced from reality, but at least we're on cloud nine together and we have the satisfaction of knowing we choose our votes and our battles based on knowledge and a holistic outlook.
At least I used to believe that. Of course I used to smoke pot, too and I suppose that could have skewed my perception. I actually haven't smoked anything at all, except for the president's "Clean Air Initiative," in quite some time, but my conviction that Santa Fe is largely an intelligent community has only recently began to crumble. Why? Development. It's a word that, of course, can either mean evolution or exploitation and in terms of real estate and construction, it's often a fine line. But Santa Feans are so damned edgy and reactionary about development that it's making us stupid. We rail against any development and manage to kill good projects while letting abominable ones slide under the radar. I know the history-I was here before the backlash, when Cerrillos Road blossomed like a mushroom cloud and St. Michael's rippled like a perpetual tidal wave of tilt-ups and fauxdobe was king. I remember the spectre of cigar-smoking swindlers coming from a land beyond the apparent curvature
of the earth to mock our local codes and pillage our land use pretensions. Yes, no one can blame us for being sensitive and a touch defensive. But people, please, it's time to get over it.
Last week, after a story with my byline ran regarding a proposed, vaguely controversial, development of live/work spaces on the Railyard, City Councilor Karen Heldmeyer called me up to chat, philosophically-like, about that particular development and about development in general. Now, although there are people both for and against this particular case (which may require Council approval) who will identify Heldmeyer as an opponent, it isn't her role to telegraph her vote and it ain't fair to categorize her thinking on the matter as so simplistic. The Councilor has yet to see a complete proposal for the current development plan and pledges to, properly, withhold judgement until such time. However, she isn't shy about expressing her concerns. Thus the initial reason for her call. I'd referred to the project as "artist housing" in my article and Heldmeyer wanted to point out that no mechanism had yet been proposed by either the developer or the Railyard Corporation, which manages the property in question on behalf of the City, to ensure that such a use be guaranteed. How, she pondered, without such a covenant, could we prevent leasing to bankers or cage fighters or conservative senators or cigar-smoking swindlers? Fair enough. The Councilor and I stand united on this matter. Artist housing is a buzzword right now, with arts and culture being revealed as the prime economic pump in Santa Fe and artists, increasingly, being unable to afford to live here. So if you plan to build artist housing, I agree that a commitment to the usage must be created somehow. Otherwise, it would be like, say, building a plaza for people to congregate at in the middle of a big box development while knowing full well that no one will ever use it-it sounds good, but it's only words (*cough* San Isidro Village *cough*). And this is my problem with Santa Fe's perception of development. We are a bunch of NIMBY losers. How is it that we set conceptually reasonable but financially demanding requirements on a modest development downtown while scores of water-hungry Southside acres are gobbled up, annexed even, becoming a soulless service burden to the City? I understand, as I continue to listen to arguments on all fronts, that not everyone loves tall, urban-inspired, mixed-use buildings, but who, for the love of John Gaw Meem, likes California's San Fernando Valley or Phoenix's suburbs or, you know, Bernalillo? Because the Southside is getting worked. The Governor Miles Road extension looks like Ventura. The Zafarano intersection may as well be in Texas. Rufina is like another planet.
But downtown, we've got to prioritize our historical preservation and our unique character, right? Well, why is unique character perceived as something that exists in a few select and rabidly protected spots, meanwhile being surrounded by wave after wave of sucky suburban simulacra? Why not embrace character and even, gasp, diversity as a philosophy for growth, rather than protectionism?
Soon, the entire outer rim of the city circle will be smooth and well-lit, like the 599 bypass. How nice. How long before "The City Different" is just the name of truckstop selling knock-off Navajo jewelry and providing free corn dogs with a car wash and a blissful, paved expanse of sewage hook-ups for RVs?
Anyone brave enough to travel through the hell of corner mini-malls and pseudo-urbanist senior housing schemes, in search of photo-ops at the rumored historic downtown structures will be greeted by a small clan of rabid preservationists in a muddy adobe clearing, staving off intruders with the sharp ends of splintered coyote fencing and ranting in some kind of codified, land-use gibberish. See, we thought we were protecting our city, but we were actually just coveting a tiny, rarefied portion of it, to the detriment of all of it. In order to avoid that future we've got to accept change. Is your neighborhood going to change? Yes. Is mine? Yes. I plan to learn to be a part of it, instead of a reactionary to it. I know that if I just close my eyes and say "No! No! No!" that I'm just being a useless NIMBY jackass.
So how do we figure out a way to engage our neighbors and any prospective developers about the future of our city from a holistic, realistic perspective? As it happens, City Councilor Karen Heldmeyer, scourge of developers everywhere, has some very good ideas on the matter. Maybe somebody should force her and any developers people are locking horns with to sit down and have a chat. I'd be afraid to put either a City Councilor or an influential developer in a headlock, but I'll buy drinks.
