Is It Worth Planting Flowers Here?

Is it worth planting flowers? This is a question I’ve been asking myself ever since we bought our first house two months ago. For the first time since my childhood, I now have a yard to call my own, with a little front porch that looks out over a quiet, pleasant street. I’ve been pondering this question because never before would I have considered purchasing something that has the sole purpose of looking pretty. All the art my husband and I own has been given to us and everything else in the places we’ve lived has always served a practical purpose; we might have a cozy blue couch or an attractive set of dishes, but these items are sat on or eaten off of. They don’t exist merely to be looked at.

So what of the flowers? The idea of spending $15 or $30 on flowers and a pot (and I know some people spend far more than this!) just for them to sit on my porch steps or be planted in the little dirt patch out front seems strange. Yet all around me, I witness my neighbors doing this and now I am contemplating it. Because I realize that, if I bought them, the flowers would not exist just for me to stare at. In fact, they have the potential to make anyone who walks by my house smile, stop and feel good about this lovely neighborhood we live in.

That’s certainly how I feel when I walk the streets around my house. We have smaller yards in this part of town because the homes are built close together, but what yards we do have, my neighbors really make full use of, as you can see.

Planting flowers or, for that matter, repainting our peeling front steps or tending to the patch of grass between the sidewalk and street—it’s all about playing the long game and putting down roots (pardon the pun). It’s about saying: “I’m going to be here for a while, so I might as well make this space look nice, for me and my neighbors.” 

Buying a house was an act of commitment that, quite frankly, I found intimidating and scary. It’s not something I’ve ever done before and it feels like relinquishing the possibility of the constant movement and relocation to the next great thing that characterizes the lives of those with a certain level of income and education. In the last twelve years, I’ve lived in six different cities, three of them major coastal metropolises: Boston, New York City, and Washington, DC. But now, here I am in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, with plans to stay for a good long while. 

Strong Towns Advisory Board member Grace Olmstead writes in Uprooted: Recovering the Legacy of the Places We’ve Left Behind (one of the most important books I’ve read this year) about the common Western narrative that progress means leaving behind your old life and seeking ever greener pastures. It’s true that in America, if you want to get a degree from a prestigious university or find the highest paying job in your field, or even just live in a place with glamour and allure, you will probably have to move to it.  

Sticking somewhere for the long haul is not seen in a positive light by most progressive Westerners. But, “to choose rootedness,” Olmstead writes, “we have to seek out larger goals than financial fulfillment, than reaching that next run on the social or economic ladder. We have to consider whether the perfect career or paycheck will offer us the fulfillment or happiness we lack—or whether the cost of transience is, in fact, too high.”

Another important figure in the Strong Towns movement, Paul Stewart, who founded the Oswego Renaissance Association, talks about the “bank run on confidence” that many cities and neighborhoods experience when person after person leaves, or neglects, or loses faith in their community. The compounded effect of so many people seeing a lack of care and interest in their neighborhoods (through uninviting storefronts, trash in the streets, derelict properties, and so on) pushes these places further into economic and social decline. The Oswego Renaissance model of home revitalization is completely based on a structure in which neighbors have to pull together in order to make lasting improvements on their block.

One of my projects at Strong Towns is hosting our weekly Bottom-Up Revolution podcast, and there is an enduring thread in the conversations I have with local leaders, farmers, business owners, artists, and other Strong Towns advocates on the show: the future of our cities and towns depends on people sticking around and loving them.  

For example, a few weeks ago, I talked with Nick Meyer, who founded an arts and culture magazine in Eau Claire, Wisconsin (which is now in its 19th year of operation), because he knew that there were exciting things happening in his community, but that most residents couldn’t see it. They thought their city was dull and declining. Meyer showed people there was life there, and something to take pride in.

Earlier this year, I heard from Mayor Chris Frye, who ran for office in New Castle, Pennsylvania, because he wanted to help change hearts and minds about his city.  He saw a narrative from inside and outside the town that said New Castle was full of crime and blight, but he knew that wasn’t the whole truth.  As mayor, Frye is on a mission to show that New Castle is a beautiful place that has a lot going for it.

When we show a place that it is loved through our actions, the people around us can see that impact and take notice. It has the power to change how they view their neighborhood. Suddenly, they are stepping up to make their home a brighter spot on the block, too.

In other words, as our friend Gracen Johnson is known for saying: “Love will save this place.”  

So is it worth planting flowers? Should I invest the time and money into beautifying my yard? I think, yes. Because I want to be part of making a better future for this place and showing that it is loved.

All images provided by the author.

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