The Omaha World-Herald recently featured a passage from Nebraska author Wright Morris’s book, “The Home Place” that strikes at the heart of living on the Plains:
“Anyone who was born and raised on the plains knows that the high false front on the Feed Store, and the white water tower, are not a question of vanity. It’s a problem of being. Of knowing you are there. On a good day, with a slanting sun, a man can walk to the edge of his town and see the light on the next town, ten miles away. In the sea of corn, that flash of light is like a sail.
“It reminds a man the place is still inhabited.”
Like Puritan minister John Winthrop’s famous comparison of early New England to a “city on a hill” that serves as an example to the rest of the world, communities on the Plains are not just groupings of people; they are statements of a destiny made manifest. From Winthrop’s time onward many have believed that it is America’s destiny to be exceptional, to serve as an example of what free people can achieve. So fundamental to our young nation’s psyche was this concept that it became known as Manifest Destiny, a belief that we were destined to transform this continent.
Right or wrong, we did whatever it took. We spread across North America as conquerors, overcoming not only the Native Americans but often Nature herself with our ingenuity, self-reliance and faith in the future. Each building that arose on the Plains was a symbol of the transformation of the Great American Dessert into an outpost of our civilization.
Those early buildings also stood as symbols of defiance in the face of both the flat, featureless land and the poverty of those first settlers who had lived in dwellings made from dirt and had burned buffalo dung for warmth. For we had come here not just to survive; we had come here to prosper and grow.
As strangers in a strange land our communities, as Morris noted, reminded people of who they were. They were the envoys of freedom, the vanguard of civilization. They were the storied “huddled masses” not just yearning to be free, but actualizing that freedom with the sweat of their brows. Though drawn from all backgrounds and often speaking different languages, these pioneers shared an unshakable belief in the potential not just of a new land, but the potential within themselves to build a better world.
Civilization on the Plains is slowly but surely receding. While Nebraska’s population exploded from 28,841 in 1860 to 452,402 in 1880, rural populations have been dropping for nearly a century now. Declining populations have severely impacted the health of rural communities, not just economically, but socially as well.
Because they were originally built by immigrants from many places all seeking to make their fortunes, rural communities were a microcosm of America itself – culturally diverse and economically vital. And because they sought to establish a new and better world, they were proactive in creating a rich and nourishing cultural infrastructure, an infrastructure of education and the arts that allowed pioneer settlements to rise from merely surviving to enjoying the cultural richness of the societies they had left behind.
But over time out-migration and the aging of those who remain has caused the economic and social infrastructure of many rural communities to crumble, draining them of their vitality, creativity and hope in the process.
More and more residents of rural Nebraska must now work two or even three jobs to survive (leaving little time or energy for social and cultural activities). We are slipping back into merely surviving and in the process betraying the fundamental hope that drove our pioneer ancestors to suffer and sacrifice for a better tomorrow.
We seem to have forgotten that as the beneficiaries of their labor and vision, we have a responsibility to keep their legacy alive. The development of the Plains was not completed during the lives of the pioneers – the development of the Plains is an ongoing process, a process that unless actively pursued will fail.
We still stand today a city on a hill. How we honor the efforts begun by our ancestors will demonstrate not only to the rest of the world but to our own selves what kind of people we are. Because as the original pioneers knew only too well, when it comes to building better tomorrows, giving up is not an option.
“The future starts today, not tomorrow.” Pope John Paul II
On our way home recently from attending reviews of Masters projects at the UNL College of Architecture my family and I stopped at South Bend to cross the Platte on the Lied walking bridge. It was a wonderful Spring afternoon; sunlight glistened on the water as migrating geese landed along the bank.
Near the far shore we noticed a lone goose, obviously ill, its head leaning far to one side.
Upon seeing us the goose raised its stately head one last time. It stared across the river at its brethren, crying out softly. As we turned away it laid its head down on the sand to resume its slow, inconspicuous death.
The dying goose stood in stark contrast to the promise of Spring as well as the promise we’d seen in Yaravi Lopez-Wilson’s and Jake Slobodnik’s Master’s projects. They are two of a number of UNL architecture students who have embraced “re-pioneering” rural Nebraska. Jake had addressed the silent problem of rural homelessness while Yaravi had developed a dwelling that included an integrated subterranean greenhouse allowing a family to produce its own fresh vegetables year-round.
Headed by Dean Wayne Drummond, the UNL College of Architecture is widely respected for helping communities not just in Nebraska but nationally. It assists many communities with design and development challenges and was among the first institutions to respond to the devastation caused by Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans.
In rural communities more and more buildings sit empty because it’s become too expensive to heat and cool them. Generally, over its lifetime it costs about eight times as much to maintain the average building as it cost to build it. And with energy costs only increasing this problem will grow. So communities in Boone County have turned to the UNL College of Architecture for assistance with conserving energy in both new constructions and in renovating existing structures.
Under the direction of German eco-architect/professor Martin Despang, 4th-5th– and 6th– year UNL students have been working with residents in Albion, St. Edward and Petersburg to identify community needs and develop sustainable, affordable and aesthetically pleasing solutions using locally-available materials.
When viewing the students’ designs one is struck by the realization that the future has arrived. At a reception in December showcasing the first phase of this work, Nebraska Governor Dave Heineman called the creativity, diversity and innovation of the designs “absolutely amazing.” Intended to compliment the character of small towns, the designs provide a foretaste of what the successful rural community of tomorrow will look like (one visitor said the designs were so exciting they gave her “chills”).
Governor Heineman also remarked that this project is a great example of Nebraskans utilizing the talents of our creative, educated young people to deal with the challenges of rural life. Much is heard about “brain drain” – educated young people leaving our state taking their much-needed skills with them. The perception is that young people aren’t interested in rural areas. But the UNL/Boone County partnership is demonstrating that this isn’t the case. There are many bright young people who, when provided the opportunity, are diving head first into “repioneering” our state.
There are many ways for colleges and rural communities to collaborate. Ord, for example, is partnering with Central Community College in Columbus to educate aspiring entrepreneurs. There’s talk of college engineering departments partnering with wind farm communities to train students in the burgeoning field of green energy. But this won’t happen overnight; it’s going to take active and sustained involvement on the part of rural residents to bring this about.
Returning home filled with fresh ideas and enthusiasm I couldn’t help but think about the difference between the outlook at the College of Architecture and that of many rural communities. Like that dying goose they’ve fallen behind their healthier counterparts. They may raise their heads for a moment when attention is directed their way but too often lie back down afterwards to continue their prolonged demise.
The resources necessary to revitalize rural areas do exist. Ultimately, though, it is up to rural residents to utilize them. Finding ways to involve our best and brightest young people in this process is crucial – not only do they possess much-needed skills, their input will help communities reshape themselves as attractive places for young people to live and work.
As the UNL students are demonstrating, young people have much to offer rural areas. They are our future, and as the Masters projects at UNL clearly demonstrated, that future is already upon us.