An urbanism roundtable in a dark, hip music venue? Why not?
On a small stage in the East Hennepin Avenue underground club
Honey, where acts such as DJ A-Tone, Mally, and Dem Atlas usually perform, there were chairs and microphones. An audience of urban-affairs aficionados, nonprofit folk, public-interest activists, and assorted others, many associated with one of the event's sponsors, the
Citizens' League. Everybody sipping bar drinks and noshing on really first-rate Asian appetizers—jumbo cream-cheese wontons, spring rolls, popcorn shrimp, satay. I ran into, and sat with, my dear old friend, the urbanist and author
Jay Walljasper, whose sharp essays on transit and biking have graced The Line.
The event's other sponsor was The Line itself, represented by me and our publisher, Dena Alspach (who was also one of the organizers). It was Why Would I Work Here? A Discussion on Attracting and Retaining 21st-Century Talent in the Twin Cities—the kickoff event for the second annual Placemaking Residency with Katherine Loflin, whose lead sponsor is the
Saint Paul Riverfront Corporation.
Loflin, as you can read in a couple of previous Line or Twos (
here and
here) was the lead consultant on the Knight Foundation's
Soul of the Community study in 2010, the first real nationwide effort to assess attachment to place—the things that make a citydweller love his or her city and stay there. She's here to take part in a week of discussions, lectures, and walkabouts aimed at connecting love of place in the Twin Cities with economic development (full schedule
here).
Danger Man
The first to take the stage, resplendent in tan sportcoat, green shirt, and blue bowtie, was Tane Danger, improv comedian and creator of the
Theater of Public Policy, a group that takes the stage at the
HUGE improv theater in Minneapolis to help explain and explore political issues, using humor for light rather than heat. He was the evening's emcee. He introduced Loflin and State Demographer Susan Brower.
Powered and probed by Danger's sometimes-sprawling questions, Loflin and Brower touched on a wide range of civic-attachment and placemaking issues, from what attachment really is to the role of taxes in outmigration to the difficulties newcomers have making friends with outwardly "nice" Minnesotans. Some pithy quotes from my notebook:
Attachment and the Bottom Line
Loflin: "Between 2008 and 2010, the Soul of the Community study showed that attachment to the Twin Cities actually rose. When you see people becoming more attached to a place during a time when personal economies are plummeting, it tells you that love of place is about more than personal bottom lines."
"Attachment is the feeling that this is the perfect place for me, not necessarily the perfect place, period. Willingness to recommend the place to others. A feeling of pride in the place."
"Attachment is more than satisfaction. You can be satisfied with a place and pack your bags tomorrow. When you're attached, you want to stay."
Selling the Place, Not the Job
Brower: "In job seeking, the place is becoming more important than the job, especially among young people who know that they may not stay in a specific job very long. It's a major shift along the axis of 'work to live' rather than 'live to work.' In one study, 60 percent of recent college grads rated place as the number one consideration in their minds; the job came in third or fourth."
Loflin: "Companies are saying, 'We no longer sell jobs, we have to sell places, and we want to be located in places that sell themselves. And rather than looking to locate in a place with cheap land, we want to locate in a place where the people we want already live—because that place has already sold them.' So many things are changing right now that old playbook of economic development needs to be updated. Not thrown out, because jobs are still crucial, but place has earned a place at the economic-development table."
What's Sacred
"Because of our research, people have become much more deliberate in how they anticipate the future of places. There are places that have basically turned themselves inside out for tourism. They've sold their souls; they've turned into ziplines and bungee cords. Your number-one customer in tourism should be your resident. If your resident isn't buying it, you're doing something you shouldn't be doing. Somehow you are saying that what you are isn't good enough."
"You can't grow for growth's sake, and you can't not grow because you're scared of growth. Somewhere in between is the nexus of placemaking."
"Some people say, 'We gotta grow!' Others are saying, 'No way.' What's at the heart of that 'no way' is the fear of loss of place. And behind that is the question 'What makes this place special that we want to hold onto as we grow and develop?' I've been to places where people clearly say, 'This is what we need to hold sacred about our place—these are the values, the characteristics, the narrative, the convenant with place that we want to hold sacred as we go down the path of growth.'"
I don't think the religious language Loflin used was an accident. While the ostensible point of the evening underground at Honey was to talk about attracting talent here—and that topic was touched on, if lightly—for me the big question, the one I want to throw out to my fellow Twin Citians, is that one about values and growth.
There is something sacred about love—love of persons, love of a Higher Power, love of place. Loflin's research showed that the three major drivers of attachment to our towns were our arts offerings and how they brought people together; how attractive our parks and trails were; and how friendly to families with young children we were. What's sacred to us in these values? What else do we hold so dear that the Twin Cities wouldn't be the Twin Cities if we "developed" or "grew" out of it? What have we, perhaps, already lost?
Good questions for the coming week with Loflin, and for many years to come.