Face Forward

Ask a young child to draw a picture of a person, and she will draw a happy face—a circle, two scribbly dots for eyes, another little scribbly dot for a nose, and a big swooping-up line for a smile.

Children don’t have to be taught how to draw people this way. They just know. For better or worse, we are our faces.

It’s how the world identifies who we are.

We communicate to the world much about our identity with our faces, with the way we comb or cut or color our hair; with how much or how little make-up we wear; with the style of our eyeglasses, beards, mustaches, or piercings. With our faces we say “Look, this is me!”

Ask a young child to draw a house, and she will draw a square with a triangle sitting on top of it. Inside the square she’ll draw two smaller squares for windows and, in between them, an upright rectangle for a door (and maybe a tiny dot for a doorknob). She may also put a little rectangle on top of the triangle, with a wiggly line coming up out of it for chimney and smoke. This is the face of a house.

Except that’s not what most new houses look like. If a child drew a house that looked like the ones they’re building in Kansas City’s suburbs, she would draw a big rectangle, longer than it is tall, and inside it she would draw three squares, side-by-side, nearly filling the space inside the rectangle. This would be the three-car garage. Then, off to the side, barely visible behind the big three-car garage, our little artist would put the rest of the house, like the one described above—square, triangle, chimney, smoke. Only because the three-car garage is so big and so up-front, you don’t really notice the actual house part of the house.    

The point of this art lesson is this: The houses they’re building these days are butt-ugly. Whoever it is who’s designing these boxes seems to think that putting the business end of the structure out front is a better idea than putting its best face forward. Instead of a smiley face greeting neighbors as they walk by, a house with its big garage up front seems to be saying “Hey, look! I have cars!” It’s the equivalent of showing someone your backside when they approach to shake hands and say hello. 

Wait! Did I say “…greeting neighbors as they walk by…”? Well, that’s a problem, isn’t it? If you live in one of the new subdivisions and you happen to see someone walking by as you’re unloading your single bag of groceries from the back of your SUV parked in one of the bays of your three-car garage, you practically have to shout your greeting to be heard. The houses are set back too far from the streets and sidewalks. And they’re too far apart. Walking in suburbs like these is a good way to get some exercise, but not a good way to meet and interact with neighbors.

Of course, I’m not the first to make this observation. My purpose here is only to add my voice to the chorus of those praising New Urbanist ideas that challenge the notion that the |most important function of a house and a neighborhood is to accommodate automobiles.  

One of the best things to emerge from New Urbanist design is the re-introduction of alleys into American neighborhoods. In neighborhoods built with alleys, garages are positioned be-hind the houses, where they belong. This allows houses to be set closer together and closer to the street and sidewalks. This encourages more interaction between neighbors, which encourages a greater sense of community.

A greater sense of community encourages a greater sense of community responsibility.

That can only be a good thing. Putting garages in the back is not just a cosmetic move. It’s part of a much larger movement to reduce suburban sprawl. It’s about more responsible and sustainable use of space. Being a good neighbor means you look out for the well being of those who live around you; those who share the same space. It means you accept the responsibility for helping create and maintain space that it is habitable, hospitable, and healthy. It means putting your best face forward.

Doug Worgul

Managing Editor

DWorgul@IngramsOnLine.com