Suburbia: My Narrative

    “Suburbia is where the developer bulldozes out the trees, then names the streets after them." Bill Vaughan, a famous american journalist, was very perceptive. The suburb I grew up  is no different. Clover Valley was a beautiful valley in the middle of town that was bulldozed and developed. Then the street built in its stead  was named Clover Valley.  

     You know all the cliches that come with living in a suburb: “keeping up with the Joneses,” “soccer mom’s with their minivans,” yet, they ring true. Living in a suburb is like living in a bubble.  Everyday your world in confined to five square miles of cookie cutter homes and unifrom meridians.  

      Growing up in this enviroment had its advantages. Finding a park was never a problem, you were always within half a mile of one. I was never in fear of walking at night coming back from a friend’s house. Suburbia is safe.   

       It all comes down to comfort. At least this is the way I percive it. People live in suburbia because they find comfort in the uniformity. The stucco houses with their tera cotta tiles. The massive suvs with “honor student” bumper stickers. The freshly mowed lawns with trees barely taller than you and me. 

      I’d left the “bubble” before, traveling on vacation or short term mission trips. However, in these instances I only got breif glimpses outside of the “bubble.” Only recently has the “bubble” truly popped. This came about with two events in my life, a mission trip to Peru and moving to Chico for school. 

     The Peru trip really put things in perspective for me. Seeing how another culture lived allowed me to compare and contrast my own upbringing. To see children wandering streets, taxi cabs careening around corners, rebar sticking out the top of roofs… things were different. However, it was the subtle things that left the deepest impression. It was the overall love for life and goodwill shared by the locals that was interesting. I experienced an openess I had rarely experienced with people in my town.  

     Moving to Chico has also shed light on certain aspects. In Chico life seems to be slower. Not to say people don’t rush around. But, it’s not the rush of suburbia. People are a lot freindlier in Chico I’ve noticed…weird. It doesn’t feel like everyone is trying to fit the same mold.  

     Don’t misunderstand me; suburbia is not all bad. Growing up in such an environment has equiped me to deal with life. The schools we’re great and friendships better.  

     I don’t want to say that I’ve shed suburbia; it is a part of me.  However, it’s only a background to my story.  

     I move on… knowing that different doesn’t mean wrong.