It’s easy to miss the consequences of opposing a plan like Think 2040, with its higher-density recommendations and smart guidance for a cohesive community, if you’re actively looking for excuses to justify your actions. A few activists have not taken the leap, the necessary educational reflection and discovery, to evaluate their reactionary conclusions about what higher-density infill means for our community. This is especially true if they live on the east side and only venture out to a grocery store or restaurant on occasion. Their perception of what a small-town community can be and what it actually is reads tragically myopic. Whether this is through a conscious decision to misunderstand the facts to achieve their goal of smothering the plan or a lack of exposure to places that have forward-thinking, modern and beneficial neighborhoods in small towns like ours is an open question.
Let’s discuss what we mean when we say: “you’re beating down on the aging population.” What do we mean when we say: “you’re disrespecting a family who cannot afford a half-acre lot?” What do we mean when we say: “you’re disadvantaging the youth who grew up in this community that then choose to stay here?”
To lead off, we’ve rounded up specific examples of what it means to attack those of us with higher mileage on the odometer. Parkview, referenced in a previous post, is a development that is almost full and costs a fair amount of money to rent. Designed for the 55+ set and offering a host of desirable amenities, this apartment community stands out. Are we to assume there are simply a lot of people living in Tullahoma who can afford a luxury retirement like this? Are we to assume that there’s enough housing for people in this demographic now that this one is built and, therefore, we don’t need more properties like it? From our perspective, a development like Parkview being built at all clearly illustrates current market demand for properties that are high density in nature. The mere fact that the units rent for between $2,300 and $4,400 a month tells us that the community need is immense.
Worth mentioning in this analysis is the reality on the ground. This year, roughly 20 percent of individuals living in Tullahoma, or about 4,000 people, will be over 65. Where do we expect our older friends to live?
We need only look at the data provided by the Walker Collaborative as part of a $200,000 study package for Tullahoma that birthed the now killed 2040 comprehensive plan for good information about the realities of the housing marketplace. They break out in clear detail the shortage of available homes for rent and sale that our community is producing, and it’s jarring how much of a shortfall we have.
And then there are the folks like our friend, a widower and empty nester in her 60s, who used to live in a 3,500-square-foot house and realized at some point that she didn’t want to bother with the maintenance of a single-family residence on half an acre but also didn’t want to live in an apartment. Logically, she went house-shopping in an area of town where she wanted to live because she wants to stay in Tullahoma among friends. It was only for luck and a strong network of connections that she found a place due to our current housing crisis.
Is this what we want to subject our friends, our parents and our grandparents to for the next 20 years? Is this what you envision as a plan to retain a “small-town feel?” Are we expected to rely on existing housing stock and antiquated zoning areas as guideposts for the future? We think not, and burying your heads in the sand or demanding that increased density should only occur outside of established communities will beat down on the opportunity of a dignified life for thousands of people in the future.
Let’s take another densely worded sentence from our statement and break it down: “When you print cheap signs and spread false fears among us about places where young people might possibly live, you’re taking away the very quickening that gives this place meaning and hope.”
Aside from the obviously activist nature of the rapidly disappearing yard signs put out earlier this year by a group calling themselves “Save Tullahoma,” take a look at the logo they created and the message sent by its use. The graphic has an idyllic farm, the perfect picture of pastoral life in rural Tennessee, with a scary skyscraper looming behind it—as if anybody would build a skyscraper in Tullahoma, and as if that were proposed for the property that abuts the neighborhoods that make up this group’s membership.
This is the very definition of fearmongering. It’s also a false and dishonest representation of what the smart plan was designed to do.
While we’re at it, let’s also dissect the word “save” and ask what that implies. What are we saving Tullahoma from? Who are we saving it from? What is there to save? From their view and by their actions, they are saving Tullahoma from any new development, particularly mindful development, and that doesn’t rationally compute. They are saving what they’ve got, the status quo, and shutting the door behind themselves to keep out anybody new who would move to or invest in our community. How big of a wall should we build around our city limits?
They’re saying, “we’re done developing Tullahoma. Now that I’m here, everything stops so that I get to keep what I’ve got, just the way I like it.” Is that the way it should be? That the loudest voice at the end of the process from the cheap seats somehow now gets to alter and destroy what thousands of other people in our community had input into by showing up at public meetings with talking points and anger? Letting loose a small mob of always online people who don’t even live in Tullahoma to bully aldermen, city staff and other residents that have a little hope for a bright future is some jungle warfare, and doesn’t belong in this city.
It is unacceptable that a small group of people can influence the process, which literally involved the input of thousands of us over the last two years by the way, in such a negative way.
Let’s talk about the youth because they seem to be forgotten in all these conversations, particularly those led by the “not in my backyard” group. Every year, Tullahoma High School graduates more than 200 17- and 18-year-old students, some of them going off to college but with a significant percentage then having to make a decision on whether to stay in Tullahoma or strike outside of our community in favor of somewhere to work that has places to live that they can afford. We’ve heard directly from them—most in their late-teens through their 20s—that there are zero places they’d be able to comfortably live in Tullahoma. With an entry-level salary and the expenses of starting out as an adult weighing on them, they instead choose areas that better fit their budget and opportunities.
This is a problem—major problem—for the health and vitality of Tullahoma. Every restaurant, every grocery store, every place with a public-facing storefront in our area, whether a small business or a large corporation, is staffed by youth. As are manufacturing facilities and call centers. Do we want them paying taxes to and filling up their gas tanks in other communities before driving into Tullahoma every day for work? Do we want a coveted, trainable and limited pool of bright-eyed working people looking elsewhere instead of Tullahoma as their first choice after they graduate high school? How can we possibly expect to survive as a small town without a younger population actively choosing to live here? The only way that we can retain them is by providing options for the most expensive thing in their life— rent or a mortgage—and we owe it to them to make Tullahoma an appealing option.
And finally, let’s take a step back and look at the actual numbers behind the economic stratification of our population. The vast majority of those living in Coffee County are low to middle income by official measure. These are people who work at Nissan, these are people who work at Jack Daniel’s, these are people who work at the Air Force base, these are people who work at Kroger or Wal-Mart, these are people who work for the city, including police officers and teachers and the utility workers. They are the meat and core of what keeps this community alive, and by not steering long-term planning with the levers of local government by providing efficient, logical solutions for developers if they want to come and build housing for those who cannot afford a half-acre lot with a single-family home, we lose the ability to retain and provide a dignified life for the most critical people in our society. What kind of message is that sending? Who exactly are you saving by attacking smart developments and planning?
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