Hallelujah! I think Nolan Finley and others are finally getting it. The last things many of us want for our City is a big box store or a chain grocery store surrounded by acres of asphalt or cement. We also don't want a blinged-out SUV or gaudy pick-up truck parked in a driveway on some life-sucking suburban cul de sac. Our porches, actual as well as metaphorical, are in the front rather than tucked in the back of a tri-level ranch. We welcome, and in fact seek out, the strange, the different, the colorful, and even the weird. Yes, Detroit is changing rapidly, mostly for the good. We don't know what the future Detroit will look like, but I guarantee you it's an absolute blast getting there.
And by the way, the "creative class" isn't always young. I moved back to Detroit a few years ago after retiring from the Los Angeles Police Department. I wouldn't live anywhere other than the "Fun Side of 8 Mile." (My winning slogan from a 2009 Detroit News contest).
Thomas E. Page
Finley's article:
A new vision for Detroit
Ididn’t expect much from a documentary hosted by “Jackass” star Johnny Knoxville and produced by a company that sells work boots to people who don’t need boots for work.
The 32 minute “Detroit Lives” film from Palladium Boots is hardly a sophisticated examination of the seeds of Detroit’s rebirth. Mostly, it’s just Knoxville driving around in an old convertible chatting with some of the city’s creative underground — the young artists and entrepreneurs who are homesteading an urban wilderness.
But the conversations jarred me into rethinking some assumptions about what form a new and improved Detroit ought to take.
I’m part of a generation that sees Detroit’s future in reclaiming as much of its past as possible. Our version of renewal comes in billion-dollar packages funded by big sugar daddies. So I rolled my eyes at first when a young artist told Knoxville, “Detroit doesn’t need a savior. Detroit doesn’t need a big box store.”
That’s the difference in mindset between the corporate class and the creative class.
It’s also revealed by Phil Cooley, owner of Slows Bar BQ, as he guides Knoxville through the wreckage of the old Michigan Central train depot. I look at that mess and say with disgust, “Only in Detroit.” Cooley says the exact same thing, but with “Wow!” in his voice.
These kids see the city as a found object, beautiful in its natural form. They, too, have dreams of a more vibrant Detroit. But they’d rather have the ruins than another empty field.
Where the smug urban pioneers of my generation settled in the best neighborhoods, this new breed thrives on Detroit’s gritty side.
They’re scraping and painting old houses and moving in.
They’re tearing boards off empty storefronts and opening micro businesses. They’re mowing parks, planting gardens and painting murals without asking permission or waiting for master plans.
They have none of their parents’ fear of the city, venturing well wide of downtown.
They’ve discovered Detroit is just the place for those with more ideas than money.
Their faces are often covered with beards and tattoos, but they get the same resistance as the suits do because those faces are mostly white. They break through by embracing Detroit for what it is, and staying in it day and night.
I’m still not sure they’re the answer for renewing Detroit.
But as downtown businessman Larry Mongo says in the documentary, “They’re filling some
of the gaps.” Whatever plan emerges from Mayor Dave Bing’s landuse hearings shouldn’t choke off their energy and enthusiasm with red tape. What we’ve done for 40 years hasn’t worked; we may as well give them their shot.
Nolan Finley is editorial page editor of The Detroit News. The News is sponsoring the local premiere of “Detroit Lives” at 7 p.m. and 8:30 p.m. Wednesday at the Burton Theater, 3420 Cass. To reserve a seat, e-mail RSVP@notedcomm.com with “Detroit News” in the subject line, specifying which screening you want to attend.
