Starting a new year always causes me to become introspective. This past year in particular was heavy- marked with deepening political divisions, and repeated acts of violence. There was a massacre at the Annunciation Catholic School church attack in Minneapolis, the killings of 2 young Israeli staff members at a DC museum, the fatalities of MN State Rep Melissa Hortman and her husband in a home ambush, or the shooting of conservative activist Charlie Kirk at a UT university during a speech.
These ugly events challenge my idealistic view that if people could experience one another’s lives somehow, it would soften the divisions between their political, religious or cultural identities. Could a simple exchange of someone from a rural setting spending time in an iconic urban setting- and vice versa- begin to negate current divisions? Maybe it would work just like travel educator Rick Steves’ international travel outreach does- broadening a person’s horizon when they briefly immerse into another culture or country.
With this idealism in mind, I envision nothing more iconically urban than a visit to NYC’s Broadway Theatre District. Broadway- America’s first fully electrically lighted street from 1880- became the heart of the Broadway Theatre District. Over the years, its theaters, restaurants, hotels, TV studios, record labels and theatrical agencies have cycled through a flow of boom, decline, and current revival.
“A play should make you understand something new. If it tells you what you already know, you leave it as ignorant as when you went in…” (Our Country’s Good, Act II, Scene 7)
So then, cultural immersion for a small town American would be attending their first ever NYC Broadway play. They’d have to start in Times Square on their way to the theatre, and that initial introduction would likely be quite a jolt. A first time visitor who’d only seen Times Square on TV at the annual New Year’s Eve ball drop would not be prepared for the place’s actual reality. There’s traffic, overwhelming noise and energy, and swarms of pedestrians- plus those multiple street performers such as Elmo or Naked Cowboy. Electronic billboards bring their visual assault to viewers with Coca Cola ads, movie promos, NASDAQ stock numbers, and BMW car spots. There’s nothing at all small town about this place called Times Square.
The next portion of Small Towner’s urban experience would be a pre-theatre stop at continental Sardi’s Restaurant. Begun in 1927, this restaurant and nightspot is where actors and playwrights historically gathered to await their reviews or celebrate play openings with cast and crew. Its dark maroon walls are lined with caricature portraits of Broadway stars- sketched since 1921. Small Towner would start to realize the long-time institution that theatre has been in NYC over the years. He might even appreciate an artist’s struggle, when he learns that Sardi’s original caricature artist, Alex Gard, began doing his drawings of famous theater folk in exchange for one free meal a day for many years. Despite the sticker shock of the menu prices, Small Towner wouldn’t just devour his tasty filet mignon medallions with cabernet sauvignon beef jus reduction, asparagus, whipped potatoes, and New York cheesecake- he’d absorb its theatre culture (and maybe spot a Broadway star dining at Sardi’s too).
But our Small Towner’s highlight urban dining would lead into the main theatre performance itself. What notable show could he choose? Let’s say that our Small Towner opts to see Hamilton as his first theatre experience. It would be an immersive experience into the intrigues of America’s beginnings- with scrappy immigrant Alexander Hamilton, competitive nemesis Aaron Burr, haughty King George III, and beleaguered beloved George Washington. The ornate trappings of the physical theater building where Small Towner sits would morph into the American Revolution’s vibrant costumes and long-ago bars and parties where alliances, friendships, and marriages were formed.
Good theater is always a time machine to other worlds- like Hamilton’s battles of the Continental Army, the shaky birth of America, and her infant struggles to survive. But experiencing such theater would also give our Small Towner an awesome glimpse into the amazing complexity of background teamwork and talents creating their entertainment magic. Those workers may contend with much different realities than Small Towner, with lives lived out in a competitive crowded urban setting. But such urban realities can actually be seen as comparable to a rural coping with weather impacts, the coordinated efforts needed to accomplish successful farming, or the practical economics of any agrarian-based small town.
“Be nice. (The world is a small town).” writer Austin Kleon
So now I imagine my Urbanite experiencing their first quintessential small town rural experience. Any such experience would have to involve a local basketball game. After all, basketball is integral to multiple small towns and reservations. Basketball is a frugal sport, not requiring lots of costly equipment. It is practical- can be played outdoors, or indoors when the weather is bad. And basketball is realistic- needing a fairly small number of players for a team- perfect for little towns with limited youth populations. Any Urbanite could gain insight into the back story of those small town values from their basketball culture.
Our Urbanite attending a small-town high school basketball game would see small town life up close. During that Friday night sport ritual, there’s kids selling popcorn to raise money for their band trips, families, farmers, and teachers cheering for each other’s kids, neighbors catching up with other neighbors. Everyone attends, and everyone knows each other. Such an event showcases those values and rhythms of a slower paced small town world, where weather, land, community, and seasons are central to a residents’ daily life and decisions. Time doesn’t rush so much as unfold. A person and their entire family being known by a community is a fact of life- both a blessing and a curse- a safe supportive network with accountability, or maybe a stifling force against privacy, reinvention, or anonymity.
But before any sports, there’d have to be a stop at the main town square. No Times Square lights and noise here- Urbanite would find an unassuming small square patch of grass with a solitary white gazebo, circled by the road, off an interstate highway. Along the roadside there’d probably be the post office, tiny library building, and the Courthouse/City Hall combination building. Of course City Hall is in imposing red brick with a donated brass plaque from the founding Miller family. The all-important Dairy Queen/kids’ hangout would be set slightly to one side of the hardware store. The diner, barbershop, and salon would be found a block further down the main highway, near the sheriffs and fire departments. There’d be two church options- the smaller Catholic one differentiated from the Protestant church by their “Thursday Bingo” sign out front. The movie theatre and bowling alley are two towns over, as is the Walmart.
“You don’t need a silver fork to eat good food.” chef Paul Prudhomme
Eating at a local diner would be the Urbanite’s introductory food experience to small town life. Breakfast is served all day at the diner- eggs, pancakes, hash browns and bottomless coffee. Unlike urban eateries that cater to vegetarians or offer various ethnic foods, small town eateries mostly specialize in basic comfort food-chicken-fried steak, open faced roast beef or hot turkey sandwiches, meatloaf with mashed potatoes and gravy. The nearby Dairy Queen is only an option for dessert in the unlikely event that the vast array of the diner’s pie offerings (pecan, apple, key lime, or berry cobblers) are somehow not enough.
There could be regional specialties in any small town diner though- Minnesota’s tater tot hot dishes, cheese curds in Wisconsin, Hatch Chile cheeseburgers in New Mexico, grits or biscuits and gravy throughout the South. Small town diners do not apologize for carbs, and everyone is likely to call the waitress and the cook at the grill by name. Our Urbanite would eat well in his first small town diner, and be well-fortified for an iconic basketball game experience.
This is how I idealistically imagined my Urbanite and Small Towner experiencing each other’s worlds. I wanted to believe that such a trade-off might collapse stereotypes, soften judgments, and narrow divisions. I hoped that each person would come away changed for the better – able to clearly see the benefits and downsides of both Urban and Small Town life. Maybe they’d conclude that no one person is better, just different, that no one way of living is better, just different. Maybe they’d listen more, disagree and hate less, respect other’s opinions more. Maybe.
But America, whatever its reasons, began this new year with renewed conflict- an invasion of another country- with other countries apparently in expansionist sights as well. Citizens are once again deeply divided- over the pros and cons, the implications, the legality or illegality of actions, the costs, the morality and human fallout. Against this backdrop, my imagined idealistic grand experiment for improved relationships among Americans seems very imaginary indeed.
Maybe one day such a “trading places” experiment could really happen- and perhaps help with healing America. Maybe. For now, my imagined urban-rural switch experiment towards understanding is just a naive idealistic exercise- out of step for now.
“We have multiplied our possessions but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often. We’ve learned how to make a living but not a life. We’ve added years to life, not life to years.” comic George Carlin
