My Mother’s Day Article That Never Was

May 10, 2013 ~ ejmcewan ~ Leave a comment

A few months back, I received an email from someone looking to interview a mother living downtown. She was writing an article for Her Cincinnati‘s issue about different Cincinnati neighborhoods, the women who live there, and what their lives are like. Always happy to wave the flag of urban parenting, I responded right away and, over the next few days, she and I engaged in an email interview.

Sadly, a few weeks before the article was set to publish, the magazine was kicked to the curb and the article never ran. There was talk about it being passed to a Mother’s Day issue of CityBeat, but that never came together.

Amanda, the woman who interviewed me, gave me permission to cut & paste the interview here on my blog.

Just for kicks- this is a bit of what you might have read, had the article been published:

1) Where do you live?

Orchard St., Over-the-Rhine

2) How many people are in your family, including pets?

My husband, myself, and two kids–Israel, a 4 year-old boy; Elsa an 18m-old girl. (Update: Elsa is now 21m-old and we’re expecting another baby girl in September.) No pets. We’re going to add a few more kids before we venture into animals. (Oh! And we’ve talked about backyard chickens.)

3) Describe your house (number of bedrooms, bathrooms, yard,and what you deem as the most important rooms)

Our home is a 1890’s italianate 2-story detached rowhouse with an unfinished basement and a finished attic. It was gutted after a fire around 1980 and then rehabbed in a few phases between then and now. So, unlike some of our neighbors, it’s neither a historic-quality renovation, nor a modern hip living space. It’s a bit of a hodge-podge that we are slowly working to personalize. After the fire, the kitchen was moved to the second floor and the first floor was cleared out to use as a workspace/shop while the owner was rehabbing multiple properties at once. Now, the majority of the first floor is a large “library” that we use as an entertaining space and for hosting events like house concerts. There are three bedrooms, and three bathrooms—one on each floor. We have a small yard, with the potential for off-street parking, but we are working to renovate it into an outdoor playspace with (eventually) a small edible garden. We spend the majority of our at-home time on the second floor, between the kitchen and what should be the master bedroom (which we use as our informal living room).

4) Where/how does your family eat meals? What percentage is homemade vs take out?

The kids and I eat most meals at home or, during warm months, outside. My husband brings a bag lunch to work most days. We eat all dinners together as a family, most of them at home and homemade. We eat dinner out once or twice a week.

5) Where do you shop or purchase food?

I run many errands on foot, in smaller trips. I get groceries at the OTR Kroger or the Avril-Bleh market if it’s something last-minute. We frequent Findlay Market–especially Madison’s–during the week (when it’s less crowded) for bread, deli items, eggs, and produce. I get a delivery of fresh, organic produce from Green BEAN Delivery every other week and own a herd share for local, raw milk which is delivered, as well. (Update: our herd share was recently cancelled and I’m shopping around for another one.) For bigger trips, I drive to the new Target or Kroger just across the river. It’s only about 5 minutes from downtown. I also make a monthly run around town bargain shopping at places like Big Lots.

6) How long have you lived where you live and why do you continue to live there?

We have lived in OTR since we got married five years ago. Our first apartment was an industrial loft space on Vine St.; We bought this house about 2.5 years ago.

Why are we here? Many reasons. This neighborhood is a part of our history together. My first job in Cincinnati was in OTR. We met in the neighborhood–seven years ago–and got married downtown. When we got married, both of our jobs were downtown. We believe in this city. We love the history, the architecture, and the particularities of Cincinnati. Also, ideologically, we believe that the health of a city depends on the strength of its urban core. So, we are committed to helping it thrive. What better way to show our commitment than to actually invest in living here?

As a mother, I value the urban lifestyle and what it offers my children. Urban living is not always “easy,” by modern American standards, where we’re accustomed to getting everything we want quickly, conveniently, in once place, and with a drive-up window. But, once we adjust to a more pedestrian life, the convenience of urbanism becomes undeniable. In one single summer morning, I can take my son for a haircut from “Mr. Frank,” pop in somewhere for a cup of coffee, drop a package in the mail, let my kids dance to some music on Fountain Square, buy my husband a new pair of socks, grab a bag full of new library books, picnic at Washington Park, and be home by naptime–all on foot. And when we get tired of the city, we hop in our car for a quick trip to a nearby forest preserve or park for a long hike.

On a more personal level, we are a pretty conservative family, so living in the city balances us out in a way that a suburban lifestyle may not. The city is healthy for us, constantly challenges us, and gives us endless opportunities to rub shoulders with awesome people we would not otherwise know (neighbors, business owners, artists and artisans, kids at the park, etc). We may not live here forever, but it’s best for us in this season of our family life.

7) Where did you grow up?

I grew up in the south suburbs of Chicago, went to college in Elgin, IL, and then moved to Cincinnati almost eight years ago.

8) Are you at stay-at-home mom? Furthermore, how do you divvy up housework/childcare?

When my son was born, I went down to working 15 hours a week for the nonprofit Keep Cincinnati Beautiful, so I’m a “mostly” SAHM. On days when I work, we have in-home childcare.

In general, I handle most of the housework and do the grocery shopping and cooking. My husband has a job that is very physically demanding, so I let him take it easy when he’s home. But, I’m a pretty miserable housekeeper so he helps make up the difference, especially when we’re expecting guests. Also, as a contractor, he can do all sorts of home maintenance that I cannot (which is very helpful in an old house). We are both very active in parenting our children, but I am their primary caretaker–i.e. it’s my job to make sure they have clean clothes for the morning.

9) If you had to trade places with another family in the country/rural area for a week, what do you think some of the challenges would be?

We have some friends who are renting a large farmhouse on a few secluded acres in Mt. Washington. I’d like to trade places with a family like that and have some quiet and privacy for a little while. But, I wonder if it would be lonely and isolating. I’ve also really grown accustomed to the noise and busy-ness of the city, so being in the suburbs now seems eerily silent, dark and kind of scary to me. It would take some time for me to get re-acclimated. I would also hate having to get in my car to run even the smallest errand.

10) Your age as of April 1, 2013:

30.

And, then, the follow-up questions:

11) How many children do you see yourselves having?

We’ll have at least one or two more.

12) What about your children’s education? Homeschool, public, private, Montessori, Waldorf, etc…?

We’re going to homeschool our children using a hybrid Classical and Charlotte Mason model. We believe strongly in the high value of home-based education. But, were we to choosing standard schooling, Cincinnati Public has a lot of options for parents in our area. Many other downtown kids attend Fairview German School in Clifton or the SCPA. Both schools are great. There is also a contingent of local parents pushing CPS to establish the Rothenberg Academy as a high-ranking, competitive school that will draw more young families to the area.

13) What would you say to someone who says “Well, isn’t OTR a dangerous place to raise a family?”

I could say a lot about the whole issue of “safety” as it pertains to parenting young children but, basically, I would say that no child is really “safe.” Never. Nowhere. With no one. If you believe that because you live in a place where every house looks like yours, everyone dresses like you, you all drive similar cars, and your bank accounts hold the same amount of money, your kids are necessarily “safer” you are fooling yourself. I don’t say this to be harsh, only to point out that danger comes at children from all angles. Depending on where you live, the dangers will be different, but no less scary. I think I’m pretty reasonable about the dangers of city life, never negligent, but not overbearing. Many families have gone before us and raised wise, competent children in cities around the world and I’ve learned a lot from reading stories about other families struggling through the same urban issues.

Living in the city may require more attention on my part, more oversight, and a more watchful eye while my children are young. But it would be more dangerous for me to live in a “nice neighborhood” where the perceived safety gave me a false sense of security. I grew up in a nice, suburban area. And so I know what goes on behind closed doors, in basements and backyards at those houses and with those kids. “Bad people” are everywhere. We don’t talk much about the prevalence of alcoholism, chemical dependency, suicide, bullying, physical and sexual abuse, and parental negligence in the suburbs because it’s done in secret. But, you cannot hide in the city. And, as a parent, that’s actually reassuring. At least we know what we’re fighting here. We are blessed to live on a fantastic street with great neighbors who know each other, communicate well about what’s going on around us, and help each other out. So, from our angle, it’s easy to see that there are plenty of “good people” everywhere, too.

As for our neighborhood specifically: In OTR, if you are not buying or selling drugs (or sleeping with someone who is), you are about million times less likely to be the victim of a violent crime. The average car ride is much more dangerous than minding your own business, walking down a city street. In simple terms, it’s much more likely that another child would be injured in a car accident during the 30-minute trip to his soccer practice than my child being mugged around the corner for his pocket change. I can’t give you the statistics on that, but I’d put money on it.

I Still Dream of “Nowhere”

April 19, 2013 ~ ejmcewan ~ 3 Comments

Living in a city wasn’t a part of my plan.

As a child, I spent the majority of my summers going between family time spent at a tiny cottage on a lake in Michigan and time at a camp in the northern woods of Wisconsin. By the time I graduated from high school, I had started spending hours upon hours alone exploring local wooded areas and was reading books like Into the Wild and The Last American Man. City life was enticing, in a way that it is for many suburban kids, but I was dreaming of a future in the wilderness.

College provided time and opportunity to explore further. My free time was spent on foot, hiking or biking through the many large forest preserves in the Fox River Valley in Illinois. I had gone camping a few times with friends in high school, but I now had a little extra money to buy my own gear for camping, backpacking, and rock climbing.The year after college, I started selling shoes at a sporting goods store so I could get a discount and my boyfriend and I started making plans for our big Pacific Crest Trail hike the spring he would graduate from college. I was never any good at climbing and I was not a particularly accomplished backpacker, but I loved it. Rain, shine, heat, cold, I loved everything about it. I loved being outside and getting dirty. I loved the sights and the sounds and the solitude. My plans for the future were not set in stone, but they involved something wild and wonderful in the middle of “Nowhere.”

Then I moved to Cincinnati.
I had lived a relatively urban existence for a few years prior to my move, but had spent much of my free time outdoors. Shortly after moving here, I broke up with that boyfriend, the one who shared my dreams of “Nowhere.” And, now, my day job involved being outdoors all the time teaching environmental education. So, my nights and weekends were spent exploring the city. My life shifted. It didn’t happen all at once, but I slowly adopted the city as my habitat.

Now, almost 8 years after moving to Cincinnati, I am a bonafide city dweller. My days, nights, and free time are spent on concrete. I work really hard to get my kids into the woods, to teach them the value of natural spaces, and to let them touch their bare feet on something real. But it’s not easy. And my heart breaks sometimes to think that I might be squandering their natural desire for open space, the need to connect with something that has not been created by human hands.

I still dream of “Nowhere.”

My husband and I sometimes dream together of selling this house and buying rural property. We dream of adopting a small piece of land and learning to live on it as stewards. We dream of carving out a homestead that will last into the future and remain unchanged as our children grow older and return with their children to see it.

We talk about moving our kids to a place where they can stretch out and explore something that is not fenced-in or fabricated. Where they can engage with the earth, not in some spiritual sense, but in a physical, tangible sense. So they can learn to see the world as a living organism, as the work of a Creator who designed it to provide us food and breath and pleasure. I want my children to experience the rhythm of the seasons, to learn to be outside and comfortable and adapt through cold and rain, through sun and heat. I want them get their cuts and bruises and bumps on rocks and in rivers instead of on playgrounds and pavement. I want them to eat food that they grew themselves, to try their hand at cutting tobacco at the neighbor’s farm, and to learn to read the weather by the look in the sky and behavior of the birds.

Sometimes the urgency is so think between us that I think we’ll really do it–next year, next month. Heck, sometimes I’m ready to do it tomorrow.

But we don’t.

We simply don’t feel called to leave the city at this point.

We love our city. We want it to thrive. And so, regardless of all the reasons we would love a life in the middle of nowhere, we’re staying for now.

Thankfully, I really do love our life here. I love our home, our street, and our neighborhood. I love the built environment and the way we’re watching it grow and change as we invest in its transformation. I love how alive it feels here during the summer and how much energy tears through the streets at night. I love how many different people we see walking to the library and how many opportunities there are, on a daily basis, to learn from them. I love how my children are learning to interact with their neighbors and make friends with people who we would never meet anywhere else. I love how brave my children are and how they don’t seem to need much encouragement to explore every space they inhabit, built or natural. And I love how willing they are to leave the city and explore other places with me, for both their benefit and mine.

Some people hear all my “city vs suburb” talk and assume that I believe the city is only place worth living. That’s not true. I simply believe that city life is full of charms that many people–parents especially–overlook in favor of the perceived safety and convenience of the suburbs. And, so, I think it’s important to be a champion for the city. And, while here, I’m enjoying this season of our life for all its worth.

But if anyone is ever looking to unload a few acres of land, I’d take it off your hands. Maybe I can find a way to keep both…

But Does It Really Matter?

April 12, 2013April 12, 2013 ~ ejmcewan ~ 2 Comments

When I speak openly about my commitment to urban living, I get a lot of mixed responses. The most common response seems to be something along the lines of, “I agree with you that urban living can be great, but I like where I live and I’m just not convinced that it really matters that much whether I live here or there.”

In a way, I agree.

At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter where you live. Any place–city, suburb, rural village–can be terrible or wonderful and provide a rich, fulfilling life, especially as it relates to parenting children. An overwhelming majority of what fosters a healthy family life has more to do with the health of the family itself and not its location. This is why I don’t question the independent decisions of friends and strangers who have made different decisions than me. I may talk a lot about my commitment to urban living, but I don’t make a habit of picking fights with suburbanites.

But, in another way, I couldn’t disagree more with the idea that it doesn’t really matter where you live. Where you live–and why you chose to live there–says a lot about who you are, what you value, and what you believe to be your role in your community.

And that’s why I’m willing to raise the issues.

When addressing the issue of where to live, parents especially tend to focus entirely on the practical questions. I think this is a backwards way to make your decision. If you are committed to providing a healthy family life for your children, you can adapt to any circumstance and living situation. The logistics matter, of course, but they are not primary. Think bigger.

There are a few ideological questions to consider when addressing the question of where to live–especially if you’re making the decision as a parent.

1. Where/how will my tax money, purchases, and investments be best spent? This may seem like a practical question of affordability, but it’s not. Depending on where you live, your income will be spent in different ways. You can live comfortably on the very same income in two very different places and spend your money in completely different ways. How much of your income will go to paying for that “perfect house?” How much will you waste on transportation costs? How much will be spent investing in your private property, for your own gain? How much will you be contributing to public, shared amenities from which everyone benefits? How much will you use public amenities in other communities that someone else is paying for? How often will you be able to (conveniently) support local businesses? Will you even have the option?

2. How will this place change me? What can it teach me? What will it teach my children? First, I believe that it is your job to control the education and socialization of your own children. So, building on the foundation you build at home, what will your community have to offer your family? What can you learn from your neighbors? Will it be a place of constant comfort (and, therefore, complacency) or a place of constant challenges (and, therefore, struggle)? Can it offer both comfort and challenges? What will the “life experience” of growing up here teach your children about themselves and about the world? Will this place help them become wise, competent adults? Will it prepare them for the adult world?

3. How can I improve/change this place? Does it need me? I would not recommend moving into a community with some sort of savior-complex, committed only to change it. But I likewise would not recommend moving into a community that is perfect as it is. The fact is, your perfect community does not need you. Your “perfect” community is perfect because 10, 20 or 30 years ago, someone loved it enough to commit themselves and their family to making it the best it could be. They invested years of their lives into that community and it’s your job to do the same–somewhere else. You don’t necessarily need to adopt a decrepit building or become Mayor or anything like that. But all people of conscience should be committed to seeking the welfare of their community–not just themselves and their family. If you are no good to your neighborhood, then you are a free-loader. Everyone has something to give. Find a place that could use what you have and move there.

4. What will living in this place communicate about who I am and what is important to me? This question gets tricky because it assumes it’s possible to place judgement on the decisions and motives of other people, which is not really true. BUT. There is something to say for the power of our decisions to communicate to the world around us, whether or not the message is our intended message. The best example I could give is that of a church I was associated with a long time ago. The particular congregation was “committed to the city.” They showed this commitment by bringing food to the homeless, serving food at a shelter, and attending quarterly outreach events in the public park. These are all good, important things. But, you know what no one in this congregation did? Not one person moved to the city. Their commitment only ran deep enough to affect a weekend a month or a few hours a week. Their “commitment” never affected their life decisions–the way they spent their own money on a daily basis, they place they built their homes, the people they introduced to their children. I cannot judge the motives of the people in this church. I knew many of them and loved them a lot. But the simple decision of where to live communicated something that they did not intend. Namely, that they were faking it. So, does your decision about where to live align with what you claim to care about? If you hate the city, you hate the city. And if you love the suburbs, you love the suburbs. But, if you claim to “love your city,” then you should live there. If you “value diversity,” then you should live among people who are different from you. If you “want to make the world a better place,” then live in a place that you can make better. Seems simple enough to me.

Asking these questions will take us all to different places. Some will live in the urban core of their nearest city, some will cozy up in an ex-urban community outside the urban core. Some people will commit themselves to a rural farming community and some will run for a Council seat in their suburban paradise. I would simply encourage you to concern yourself more with the ideology of the decision, rather than the logistics. Why are you living where you are living? Are you doing it intentionally, or have you just settled for a nice, cozy house that you thought you could afford? You might not think it really matters, but I believe that it does.

* You’ll notice there are three important things I didn’t include in my list: affordability, safety, and quality of public education. Funny enough, these are the three excuses most people use for why urban living is impractical for families. I have some pretty strong opinions about these issues and it’s probably better for all of us if I don’t go into them now.

We’ll save that for another time…

My Problems With The Suburbs

April 9, 2013 ~ ejmcewan ~ 2 Comments

It should be no surprise that I favor urban areas and adamantly support families choosing to live in urban environments. I’ve made a lot of bold statements about the value of urban environments, the quality of life available to urban families, and (what I believe to be) the challenges inherent in suburban living. When I make these statements, my suburban friends sometimes take offense. Some offense is appropriate, of course. I am, after all, calling their most basic lifestyle decisions into question. But, too much offense would be disingenuous. We all, every time we make a life decision for ourselves and our family, are calling other people’s decisions into question. Just because I say my reasons out loud should not make me an enemy.

That said, before I quickly explain my thoughts on the suburbs, I should clarify some things for people who don’t speak the language of the “city vs suburbs” question because much of the offense comes from misunderstanding what I mean when I say certain words or phrases. I apologize, ahead of time, for the way these clarifications will lengthen this post.

So, some clarification:

1. When I speak of an “urban” environment, neighborhood, or area, I do not mean a large, metropolitan city. Of course, large cities are “urban,” but urban design extends to many other built environments. When I speak of an “urban” environment, I am speaking less of size or population and more of issues related to city planning and design. Urban areas are spatially dense, socially diverse, economically diverse, are supported by a public infrastructure, and are culturally unique, regardless of their size.

2. Urbanism extends beyond the center of large cities. To give an example: Cincinnati is a metropolitan area of almost 3 million residents, divided into 52 distinct neighborhoods and surrounding municipalities. In a city like Cincinnati, the Central Business District is not the only definitively “urban” neighborhood. There are multiple neighborhoods within the city that could qualify. The same goes for some of the surrounding municipalities. Likewise, in a city like Chicago, the central urban core is much larger than in Cincinnati and the sub-urban sprawl extends much father from the core. Many of the surrounding municipalities are designed much the same way as large cities, but on smaller scales. Many of these areas are ex-urban areas or commuter cities that depend, in some way, on the vitality of the nearby large city, but also have their own urban character.

3. Not all “urban” areas or cities or parts of cities are the best example of the best of urbanism. I am speaking in generalizations. If your situation or experience does not match my assessment, then you are welcome to share the difference between your situation and my assessment, but it does not negate the truth of a generalization.

4. As should be obvious by my numbers 1 & 2 above, areas outside (or even far from) a city are not necessary the “suburban” areas I take issue with. The purpose and design of sub-urban areas has shifted drastically in the past 150 years and, so, the areas established outside cities at the turn of the 20th Century will be very different from those developed in the past 3o years. In general, most of the areas that meet my critique are those developed post-WWII.

5. It seems ridiculous to even have to say this, but I will. As in number 3 above, not all “suburban” areas are the best example of suburbia. Again, I am speaking in generalizations. If your situation or experience does not match my assessment, then you are welcome to share the difference between your situation and my assessment, but it does not negate the truth of a generalization.

6. Now, for my suburban friends: I will say, and have always said, that there are legitimate reasons to live in the suburbs. I have many wonderful friends and family who live in neighborhoods and houses that I would never choose to live in, but have made what they believe to be the best decision for their family. I did not have a “bad” experience growing up in the suburbs; I had a pleasant and safe suburban childhood. Unless you ask me for advice, I’m not out to make personal judgements about your personal decision, but I am willing to call out the entire culture of suburbia based on what I know about the design of the suburbs and have learned about the nature of vibrant, thriving communities. Maybe your community will fit the bill; maybe it won’t. That’s not for me to decide. If our life situation changed and my husband got a great job in the suburbs or if we needed to move in with or nearer to my parents or my mother in-law, I may find myself in a different position. But, regardless of where I live now or in the future, I am not afraid to make bold statements about the design of suburban areas and what it means for the lifestyle of those who live there.

7. It should also be said that I am not a professional urban planner and a purist may argue with some of my definitions. If you want to know the real ins and outs of the “city vs suburb” debate, look to someone else.

So, here goes.

My problems with the suburbs are as follows.

Suburban areas are characteristically homogeneous. Everything from the appearance of the buildings to the income of the residents is the same after the same after the same. There is no economic or social diversity–everyone lives the same kind of life, drives the same kind of car, has the same kind of job, and lives in the same kind of house. There is no aesthetic diversity–every building was designed by the same architecture firm for the same developer to look exactly like the other building next door. This is true for suburban business districts, churches, and schools, as well as residential developments.

There is no value in the aesthetics of an area that is designed for economic expediency by a large, corporate land developer. Beauty is an afterthought when efficiency is valued above creativity. A “custom home” in which your choice is between beige and ivory vinyl siding is not truly custom by any stretch of the imagination. When every lot is the same size, every home is the same average sq footage, and the city legislates the color of your painted trim, there is no room for aesthetics. It is boring at best and ugly at worst.

Real estate and property values in the suburbs have a tragic economic depreciation rate. What is the lifespan of your home? What will your home be worth, in its current condition, in 30 years? Which areas are still thriving during our economic recession? Look it up. I dare you. This is especially true for big-box commercial developments and crappy strip malls which seem to be designed to for demolition in 20 years, just to make way for another economically expedient, aesthetically-void development.

You simply cannot survive in the suburbs without a car. Even in suburban areas where things are close in proximity, nothing is designed for pedestrian traffic. A walk to the grocery store–even if it’s three blocks away–is a death wish in suburbia. Try going to visit a friend, picking up Chinese food, or taking your child to school without using a vehicle. Add up the cost the average American family incurs by relying so heavily on car use–especially in a two-car family. Add up the time wasted in a year’s worth of commuting. It will amaze you.

Physical space in the suburbs is completely privatized. Have you ever been out of town, passing through a suburban area, and tried to find a place to stop and walk around? To stop and let your kids play? To stop and park and take a break from driving? Good luck finding any space that is not owned by someone else. Nothing is shared–not driveways, not yards, not parking lots, not even ponds or pools or walking paths. Sure, some homeowners’ associations or corporate office complexes do a good job of creating an appearance of “public space,” but it’s different. And only an outsider can really feel the difference. Spending leisure time in someone else’s suburban empire requires–more often than not–paying your way. Buying something in a dining establishment, paying for recreation, or shopping are often your only options.

The economy of suburbia is entirely corporate. Hey, I like eating at Chili’s as much as the next person and I still buy my jeans at the GAP. But, another Chili’s restaurant or Sam’s Club or Wendy’s does nothing to bolster my local economy or put my neighbor’s kids through college. Sure, it might be good for tax revenue, but do some quick research on the economic return of a “mom & pop” establishment, when compared to a corporate entity. What is worth the investment? If the economic return is really so substantial, isn’t it worth paying an extra dollar for your sandwich or cup of coffee?

The suburbs require no personal interaction in your own community. The average suburban resident may go days without interacting with a single neighbor. Heck, you may not even know their names. Private driveways, closed garage doors, privacy fences, and long, off-set front entryways say to neighbors, “This is MY kingdom. Call ahead, please.” Close friends live a 30+ minute drive away. Shopping is done at a corporate mall across town. You hire a contractor from the Yellow Pages instead of the local newspaper. You attend church in someone else’s neighborhood with people who live somewhere else and who you see for 2 hours a week on Sunday. (And you call this “community?”) You live here. You mow your lawn. You send your kids to the safe, clean schools. You pay your taxes. That’s all that is required of you.

In closing,

Obviously, living in an urban area does not guarantee a different life. There are dying and vibrant communities everywhere. So, why do I think urban design is superior? Easy. Building community might not be contingent upon design, but it is aided (or hindered by it) and urban areas are, by definition, designed for it. So, choosing to live in a place that is designed to be inaccessible to outsiders, economically hollow, and fiercely privatized is counter-productive to the very nature of community-building. It might not make it impossible, but it does not make it any easier.

Is it “easy” to live in the city? In some ways; not others.

Is it “easy” to find a place to live that is both “urban” and affordable for a family? Not everywhere, but you’d be surprised.

Is living in an urban environment “comfortable?” Not necessarily.

Is sacrificing the personal security blanket of suburbia worth the investment into the urban, shared environment? Absolutely.

Our Famous Findlay Market

March 13, 2013 ~ ejmcewan ~ 2 Comments

Many thanks to The Boston Globe for such a shining article about our beloved Findlay Market.

The only disappointing part of the piece was the author noting Over-the-Rhine’s descent into “a rundown neighborhood of peeling paint and forgotten, weedy lots,” but not mentioning the last few years of significant developments and improvements. But, I suppose Findlay is even more impressive when you consider what it has survived through.

On a personal note: In warm weather, I visit the Market about once a week, but almost never on the weekends. I find it too crowded to navigate alone with two children (while my husband is at is work). The kids and I usually take the trip on foot around 9am on a weekday (but not Monday–it’s closed!) for fresh bagels and coffee at S & J Bakery and Cafe. After a quick breakfast, I usually take a cupcake or canoli to go, then hop over to Gramma Debbie for some sliced, marinated baked chicken and then to Madison’s for everything from a bag of spinach to a pint of sorbetto to a dozen fresh, local eggs. My kids love Brian Madison. In fact, my daughter was his second-youngest customer! Her first trip to the Market was at barely 4 days old. (We were beat by my friend Alice who brought her daughter in at 48 hours old. That jerk…) If I need to, I can also stop in for wine from my friend Michael at Market Wines (he once did a wine tasting at my album release party), get some fresh spices from the Colonel, and treat the kids to Dojo. We can also take a break and visit the playground next door, munching on fresh peaches or apples (or a diet coke for me) while the kids stretch their legs. It’s not the best playground in the city, but it’s clean and safe and manageable for the kids.

The great thing about living so close to Findlay Market is that a trip to the market need not be a field trip. It can be what it was meant to be--a trip to the market. You get what you need, you skip over the rest, and you can always come back another day.

Who’s your favorite Market vendor?
When do you prefer to visit?
What’s the craziest (or most wonderful) item you’ve purchased there?

(P.S. Have you noticed the historic marker on the north end of the market block that tells of the “anti-German hysteria” that forced the street names to be changed from their original German names to anglicized ones? Republic St. used to be named Bremen St.! Super interesting.)

Becoming a TV-Free Family

February 26, 2013March 13, 2013 ~ ejmcewan ~ 1 Comment

One of the best decisions my husband and I ever made was to ditch our television set and never replace it.

This happened over three years ago, a few months after “the big switch,.” For those of you who missed it, a few years ago, free television programming switched from analog to digital and viewers were forced to either subscribe to cable, purchase a new, digital television or purchase a convertor box.

Our son was a a few months old at the time and we lived in a loft apartment. This meant that, at bedtime, we either kept quiet or risked waking the boy. When it came to television, it was out of the question. It just wasn’t worth it. And, during our son’s waking hours, we simply didn’t want him exposed at such a young age to the weird stuff that flashed on the screen.

Our television set was older than dirt, only had one working speaker, and could barely pick up a signal. I hadn’t had a television myself (or a personal computer) for almost all of my post-high school years, so I had a lukewarm relationship with the thing. John and I mostly used it for movies, anyway. We bought our laptop around the same time so, when we did watch any sort of entertainment, we watched streaming tv shows or youtube clips of movies huddled on our bed in front of the computer, sharing a set of earbuds.

Needless to say, we were fair-weather tv-watchers. So, when “the big switch” happened and regular tv sets went black, we tossed the tv and never looked back.

When I tell people that “we don’t watch tv,” it illicits a bunch of different reactions. Some assume we’ve taken some high-and-mighty anti-culture position and judge tv-watching as a sin. Some assume it means we entertain our children with puppet shows and charades, instead. Some assume that we, like them, just mean that we don’t watch it often.

So, let me explain what being a TV-free family means to us.

Why are we choosing to be tv-free?

1. Television programming is, in general, a total waste of time. There are about a million more important/creative/world-changing things I can (and should) do with my down-time.

2. Most television shows and movies are full of crap. I’m no prude and I am not, as a rule, offended by crude language. But, turn off the popular media stream in your mind for a few months and then re-introduce it. You will be amazing by the loads of disgusting crap you never noticed yourself ingesting before. Everything from the language and gratuitous sex to the general philosophical lessons of popular culture and the hyper-commercialization of the omnipresent marking. The more you take it in, the more desensitized you become and the more “normal” you think it all to be. Wake up and look at what you’re actually consuming.

3. My children should entertain themselves. As tempting as it is to sit my kids in front of some form of hands-off entertainment (computer, tv, iPhone, etc.), it is not profitable for them, developmentally. Creative, child-led (or parent-led) play is important for both artistic and academic reasons. Plopping a kid in front of a screen that requires no real interaction teaches children to be consumers of entertainment rather than creators–consumers of culture rather than culture-makers. I’m not exaggerating. Look 15 years down the road at the lifestyles of tv-lite kids compared to their screen-addicted peers. They are more socially adept (at least with the real world, if not their peers), are less likely to develop destructive habits, tend to be more physically active, and have more academic and career success ahead of them.

4. It is not “harmless.” Nothing is devoid of influence and when children are most impressionable and easily-influenced, we should never assume that the obnoxious whining cartoon character on the television screen isn’t making its way into their subconscious. It all makes its way in, my friends.

5. The branding of children’s products is enough to make me stay away. Everything–from fishing poles to diapers to Memory games to gym shoes–is branded with lame cartoon characters. I will not allow my children to be lured by this manipulative marketing and I refuse to argue with my child over buying that cereal or that juice box because it has their favorite character on it. If it’s as simply as only allowing my child moderate access to the branded characters themselves, I will spare myself a million headaches.

So, how does being “tv-free” actually play out in our family? (This it to prove that we are not insane, culturally isolated, or all-around tv-haters.)

– We do not have a physical television set. But we do have a laptop computer and both my husband and I have iPhones.

– Our laptop does have a DVD-player, but it has been broken for about a year and we have not had it fixed.

– We do not subscribe to any paid online television or movie service. If we want to watch a tv show or movie, we must either watch it streaming for free on a site like Hulu, or must download it from iTunes.

– Our son knows how to use an iPhone, but does not have access to either our computer or our phones on any average day.

– I have a few select television shows downloaded from iTunes on our computer, but my son is only allowed to watch them on special occasions. This translates to about once or twice a month. About once a week, I allow him 20-30 minutes with my phone to watch clips on YouTube–mostly vintage Mickey Mouse cartoons. At our home, he has seen about 6 full-length movies in his lifetime. (He has never seen Cars, Toy Story, or the majority of children’s movies made in the last 10 years.) He does not usually have access to either the computer or my phone while his sister is around. This is very (intentionally) limiting.

– My daughter is 18 months old and is not allowed any “screen time.”

– When visiting friends and relatives, we don’t encourage screen time, but we aren’t stingy about allowing our children to watch shows. If I though something was actually objectionable, I would politely ask to change the show. But, I would rather not cause a fuss. I mean, we might be idealists but we’re not jerks.

– My husband and I have a few tv shows we watch online each week, totaling maybe 2 hours a week. I have another show or two that I catch online sometimes during naptime, maybe once or twice a week.

– With my phone, I can get any information I need about popular culture and/or a world news feed at the touch of a button. Television, for me then, is simply superfluous since I don’t need it for entertainment.

– Without access to normal television programming or a DVD player, our kids don’t ever have un-attended screen time. Chances are, unless I’m in bed vomiting or experiencing something similarly debilitating, you will never hear me say, “Here, son, play with my phone while I do this other thing in the other room.” Any show watched, movie seen, or iPhone game played is chosen and approved my me or John. And it is always used as entertainment–not time-filler while I do other things. When my kids are older, they will likely have more freedom to choose what media they consume and have access to it more often. But, for now, we call the shots.

– The curse of a smartphone is that it never leaves my side and it could quickly become just as much a distraction from parenting as a television set would be. For this reason, I try to avoid spending too much time on my phone while around my children and try to limit my serious phone use to naptime, bedtime, and odd “the kids are playing so nicely together they don’t even notice I’m here!” times. These times don’t come often and I am, admittedly, not awesome at living up to my own expectations much of the time.

We know dozens of other tv-free or (what I’d call) tv-lite families and they all do it for different reasons. And it looks different in every home. Some families have the tv set tucked-away in a closet for special times. Some families have tv and movies, but enforce strict time restraints for older children who deserve a little more freedom. I would never give someone a hard time for making a different decision for their family, especially if we can at least agree that our time is usually best spent doing something else.

I know that parenting is hard and–believe me–I completely understand why someone would want to be able to send their kids to the living room to watch cartoon early on a Saturday morning. There are times when I am really tired or it’s really early or I really want to take a shower or I really need to wash the dishes and I (literally) say to myself, “Gosh, I wish we had a tv.” And, this sometimes means that I have less time alone to myself and less time to do things other than entertain, teach, and play with my kids. Which means, by necessity, less time to clean “in peace” and fewer creative pet projects around the house. But, in the end, it’s worth it to me. And, no, I don’t think we’ll be getting another tv someday. And I’m pretty resolute to not apologize for the decision we’ve made for the benefit of our family. In fact, I think it’s a decision we should be proud of–and it’s a decision I would encourage YOU to make.

Also, on a personal note, it should be said that I do enjoy some contemporary television programming. (Heck, I almost joined a support group when Lost ended a few years back.) And I really enjoy movies. BUT. I really don’t miss watching them. And, if I really wanted to, I could find a way to access them. In fact, I have a few shows waiting in my Hulu queue as I type this.

And, that’s how I prefer to consume entertainment–in small quantities, when the time is right, and only the shows I actually enjoy and find valuable. And, hopefully, that will be the lesson I teach my children: TV is not “bad,” but it’s like junk food. Consumed in small quantities, alongside a steady diet of nutritious, creative play, it won’t kill you. But it’s not going to make you any healthier than you’d be without it.

Cheers! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=whpf4Xs2ww8