By: Jennifer Richardson Holt
This past week has been a bit of a whirlwind. There have been days when I fit more into one day than I knew was humanly possible. Everything has been enjoyable, but it has also been a lot. When one has an international guest (who is also a local celebrity) visit and one wants to give that guest as many experiences as possible, one may go a bit overboard when the schedule is set out. So, to call my last week busy is an understatement.
I am weary. It’s a good weary, but it most definitely reassures me that I am no longer a spring chicken. Well, that and the disconcerting drooping quality of my neck, which further confirms my description of myself as a summer turkey. I am not sure when I will cross the line into winter bird of some sort, but I will be sure to write about that when the day comes.
I knew I wanted to write about busyness, but I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to say. I employed an old method for topic hunting and looked up the word in the dictionary. The definitions didn’t particularly inspire anything the way I had hoped. However, while scrolling down the page, I noticed some example sentences, and one struck me as particularly appropriate. The sentence was about a region in the UK and its plans to expand roads, build new reservoirs, and add new homes in a “splurge of busyness to transform the region into Britain’s Silicon Valley.”
The reason this caught my attention is that the city where I spent all this time filling my calendar for the week is in the middle of this very type of busyness. Now, it isn’t exactly attempting to become a new Silicon Valley, but it is in a constant state of expansion. Absolutely everywhere you look, something new is being built. Interestingly, the bulk of what I see is residential. I see endless condominium complexes and neighborhoods of townhomes that seem to spring up magically overnight. With each new discovery, I always ask myself—often out loud and to no one in particular—who are all these people, and what are they doing?
It’s a college town, so when classes are in session, students make up a huge portion of the population. But still, my heavens, the growth! Ironically, this city has a reputation as a “village,” known for its familial, small-town atmosphere. Yet with the exponential growth happening here, many bemoan the loss of that endearing ambience. I can personally attest that there are still plenty of friendly people here and that, given the right circumstances (which, may I just say, do not include local traffic), there is still a welcoming mood.
Guests who come to the university’s major sporting events are forever praising the hospitality and kind nature of the people they encounter. While that speaks well of the spirit of the place, the need to fill every empty speck of real estate and lift the skyline with rising buildings does less for the place that so many have fond memories of.
And honestly, I do get it. Those who grew up here or went to school here return to a place that looks unrecognizable. If you like to reminisce and think of a place as “home,” you don’t want it to look completely different when you return. And since I’ve been commuting regularly to this city for all manner of things for multiple decades, I can see how much it has changed. There are definitely things that feel foreign at worst and drastically different at best.
Busyness has definitely hit the town hard, and in many ways it has changed. However, I feel I must come to its defense. I will not remotely deny that growth and expansion are making the place undeniably busy, but deep down, the “village” is still in there. I have seen it time and time again this past week.
There were the warmest of welcomes. There were gifts given, often of one’s own belongings, simply because. There were events scheduled and special moments planned for no other reason than to honor a guest and make them feel at home. Comradery was alive and well at every turn. The villagers were happy to lavish hospitality at every opportunity.
Sure, the buildings may be bigger, and there may be more of them. But the welcome signs are still out on most every door. And despite appearances being far from what they used to be in some spots, the reception is just as warm as the one those from long ago remember so fondly.
