samantha levy

       While I was away this semester, my parents moved from a suburb of Chicago into the city itself, just two block east of Michigan ave surrounded by the old Water Tower and the Hancock building. Thanksgiving break was my first trip home since the move and going from casual commuter to urban dweller was much more poignant than I imagined. After living in Boston for 3 years and Paris for 6 months, it wasn't the day to day routine I had to adjust to, but rather the reconceptualization of a place I felt like I was experiencing for the first time. One of the things that always made home feel more like home was the ease with which I could accomplish even the most banal task--because I had lived all 21 years of my life in the same house, I knew my neighborhood backwards and forwards. Although even the most basic task now requires the use of google maps, I realized that I was given a unique opportunity. I have the privilege of making new spaces out of places, of creating my own roadmap for a city that until the move I had let lead me along blindly, following its turns without really knowing where I was going. I'm grateful that my great migration and this class coincide with each other, for I am much more conscious of my surroundings after this semester.  

Our discussion on Monday about gated communities got me thinking about my own situation as well. Though I did not live in a gated community, or come from an area with gated communities, my town was safe, and everyone knew it. Growing up I didn't have a curfew, and was only offered the occasional warning about being careful in the garage when I came home at night. The first conversation I had with my mother, however, when I returned for break last week was a lengthy tutorial on the many safety features of our apartment, the building, and the block. I couldn't help but wonder if maybe all the extra precaution was a knee-jerk reaction to our surroundings, that moving to the city meant new possibilities of danger. This got me thinking about gated communities, and how the motivation behind the gate is extremely telling--what does the gate do to the rest of the community? One of the main differences between the gated communities in Florida and the one in Jaffa is numbers. In Florida, the gated community seems to be a practical solution to urban planning, whereas in Jaffa the gate acts as an invitation for investment, and in so doing becomes a means of exclusion.