One of the lasting impressions I took away from last week's Ann Arbor City Council meeting were the dozens of young people speaking out in favor of the Moravian development, and how it stood in stark contrast to the mostly older audience opposing it.
This is significant because most Joe Citizens who speak at local government meetings are in opposition to the proposal, and those riled-up speakers trend older in age and more sensitive to change. Advocates for proposals, especially younger ones, rarely make public appearances, and when they do it's only one or two at a time.
"It was an exciting outpouring of civic interest from a group that doesn't normally partake in civic matters at that level," says Christopher Taylor, a 43-year-old city councilman from Ann Arbor's Third Ward.
Yes, there were some younger people opposing the controversial high-density development in Ann Arbor's city center, as well as some older ones in favor of it. But the meeting spotlighted the glaringly obvious generational divide that is vexing Ann Arbor, a divide that has surfaced on blogs, Internet forums, and even at Concentrate's recent speaker series. This age gap in expectation and opinion, readily apparent at the City Council speaker's podium last week, was not a product manufactured by the local media or social networking but a true clash of visions for Ann Arbor. And it made clear that there is a younger professional demographic that feels its needs are not being respected, let alone met. These members of Ann Arbor 2.0 argued as much in the longest public comment forum (3.5 hours) since the city's Green Way debate.
The old guard argued for protecting near-downtown neighborhoods from dense developments they felt would destroy the character of traditional residential blocks. Ann Arbor's newer guard advocated for more modern and denser housing options downtown to compete against the poorly maintained single-family homes that are often chopped into overpriced tenements. Their words didn't fall on deaf ears, just older ones.
Ann Arbor's City Council is made up of a narrow range of representatives: Mostly well-off, educated, middle-aged-or-older residents who have lived in Ann Arbor longer than many of the pro-Moravian advocates have been alive. To say that their residential experience is limited would be an understatement. Which begs the question, shouldn't a city that earns a large part of its reputation on the well-educated youth of its population have one council member young enough to represent the interests of Generation Y?
Give credit to the current City Council, which not only listened to the pro-Moravian speakers but rallied a majority of its members to vote for it (The vote fell short of the super majority needed for approval because of a parliamentary maneuver executed by opponents earlier in the process). Still, I have to wonder if the preferences of Ann Arbor's 20-and-30-somethings would have been better respected and considered if they had a seat at City Council's table? Shouldn't there be at least one representative of this demographic casting votes and shaping policy for the people who will be living here for the next 60 years?
"For Ann Arbor to thrive, it requires the enthusiasm and drive of a full spectrum of its citizens, particularly those whose future is brightest," Taylor says.
Such a seat at the table wouldn't be new for one of southeast Michigan's progressive cities. Ferndale's office of Mayor Pro-Tem is currently held by 29-year-old Kate Baker. Ferndale is a much smaller city that has approved building multi-story structures outside of its central business district ...and next to one- and two-story, single-family homes.
She points out that participation among younger people has gone up in recent years with young professionals filling spaces in local commission boards and non-profits.
"We just redid our master plan and ordinances so they will encourage more development in our community," Baker says. "They will maintain the character but move the area forward."
Just down the road, Royal Oak's City Commission is represented by two members of Gen X -- Jim Rasor and David Poulton. Coincidentally (or not) the City Commission recently rose above the din of local opposition to approve plans to build a first-run, multi-screen movie theater at the edge of downtown Royal Oak, a move that is proving quite popular with the city's younger residents.
Both of these cities, as with so much of Metro Detroit, struggle with change in their communities, too, especially in their downtowns where every resident is a stakeholder. And Michigan isn't alone. Other premier college towns in the U.S. are grappling with density and development issues. Berkeley, California, is struggling to satisfy a number of different special interests with its new downtown development plan (sound familiar?). Reading about the Bay Area college town's heated development debate, it's hard not to conclude that they're quoting from the same script Ann Arbor's density foes use. Meanwhile, Austin, Texas, is in the midst of a density debate where everyone from neighborhood activists to bicycle advocates are throwing their weight around.
However, where the Royal Oaks and Ferndales have set themselves apart is how they have found a way to continue evolving their city centers while incorporating the ideas of those who seem to enjoy them the most - younger people. It's why innovative developments like ID Woodward and the new Emagine Theater were approved and are waiting to be built.
Imagine the kerfuffle if either of those projects had been proposed for downtown Ann Arbor? What type of message does the battle over the Moravian send to other young people interested in leaving their mark on Ann Arbor?
"These things seem to take an interminable amount of time," says Angela Kujava, a 31-year-old Ann Arbor resident who favors dense, urban projects like the Moravian in Ann Arbor's downtown area. "We sit back and think, 'When will this ever come to fruition?'"
Would the local student population be so transient if it believed there was ample opportunity for it to shape its environment? I'm not just talking about the few square blocks within the DDA's tax boundary. For many, downtown stretches beyond those. To paraphrase Justice Potter Stewart, I am not going to try to define the boundaries of Ann Arbor's downtown, but I know when I am in it, and the Moravian site is in it. So is Heritage Row, and Near North, and 601 Forest, and every other dense development proposed for Ann Arbor's city center.
But only a few of those projects have materialized in a city where 53 percent of its residents rent and 57 percent of those who do so live in single-family homes. Multi-unit apartment living is mostly relegated to generic apartment complexes distant from the city's core. Shouldn't Ann Arbor offer a wider variety of rental options, especially when it's only expected to add 500 residents by 2035? That's compared to the 30,000 new people that will move into Washtenaw County, and the 18,000 new jobs predicted for Ann Arbor in the same time period. What's the point of a greenbelt if you don't have an alternative place for all those people?
Ann Arborites should embrace this latest trend for dense, green building in its greater downtown area. The opposition shouldn't dismiss the desires of these young people or pooh-pooh their new-found political activism as flash mobs inspired by a happy hour. To put it simply, Ann Arbor's leaders should make the bureaucracy friendlier for those who plan to improve the city they want to spend the next five decades of their lives in.
"They were there to support the development. They were even more there in support of a vision for a vibrant, bustling Ann Arbor," Taylor says. "I hope that enthusiasm will translate into participation and action."
Like it or not, tastes and preferences evolve. These young people are the beta version of Ann Arbor, and they have been turned on by dense, downtown developments. Judging their desires as mistaken or entitled or wrong won't change them, it will ensure their alienation. Learning to better accommodate them will prove our city is a place to be shared by everyone. And if we can't share, then Ann Arbor has bigger problems than what should be built where.
"I am worried about the backlash," Kujava says. "If there is no walk [sustainable, urban development] to go with the talk [of accommodating more young people] then it will really blow up in Ann Arbor's face."
Jon Zemke is the News Editor for Concentrate, a 32-year-old straddling Generations X and Y and a Jane Jacobs-style urbanist who misses the Ann Arbor that raised him.
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