Not in this Backyard

NIMBY•ism (nim’-be-izm) n. 1. Acronym from “Not In My Back Yard” referring to the tendency to resist actions or ideas affecting one’s own property or lifestyle, while otherwise approving of the action or idea in concept. 2. Objecting to something unpleasant or dangerous being located near his or her home while being perfectly happy to see it located elsewhere. 3. The abject opposition of anything new or different proposed to be implemented with a reasonable distance of one’s own home or business, especially when perceived of as undesirable. I’ve seen it. I watch for it. I watch for it in myself. During my years in public office, I’ve come to expect it from the general public who are none other than you and me in a different situation. Are NIMBYs absolutely a their own animal? A new breed? I rather suspect that NIMBY-ism has been going on since recorded history. As far as I know, there is no recorded date of the first sighting of a Nimby. You may not be aware of them but I can assure you that they lurk in your own community. They will be out, teeth bared, at the first perceived threat to status quo. Their status quo that is, not yours. Nimbys don’t care about your status quo. Seeing eye to eye with a Nimby, generally depends on whether the Nimby is your neighbor or someone who lives in another area. What we might view as absurd and “small” behavior from a distance, takes on an air of reasonability when it is close to home. Take it from me, when it comes to real NIMBY-ism, what is good for the goose is not necessarily good for the gander. It all depends on proximity. In our town there is a quiet neighborhood of what look like modest, single family homes or maybe half-plexes, with small patches of green lawns framing each one, clustered along two or three quiet streets which branch off a simple main drive that winds among the houses. To the passerby, this neighborhood has a well-kept appearance; you don’t see kids bikes, balls, shoes or skateboards lying about as you might in some areas. The streets are not crowded with broken down cars. The minimal lawns are mowed and attended to. This is our town’s successful affordable housing apartment complex of fifty-six units. The project was made possible through a kind of partnership between investors, developers, the City and the State. The city council did its due diligence, investigating the track record of the developer and visiting other projects managed by the development firm. The history was impressive. Nice projects, well-managed and serving the communities in which they existed. Some people who called themselves “Friends of [our town]” fought this little development tooth and nail, and when it was approved by the City Council, they badmouthed our competent and conscientious mayor (he lost in the next election) and filed a lawsuit against the city. This cost the local taxpayers (even the NIMBYs) a significant amount in terms of staff time and money to defend the City’s decision. The developer participated in the legal battle, so not all of this frivolous litigation fell on the hapless shoulders of local tax payers, but the cost was great in terms of ill-will within the community. During the project public hearing and approval process, project opponents spread rumors about the project and went door to door, playing on the fears of residents in the adjacent senior community. “You will be inundated with noisy latch-key kids, running through your quiet neighborhood,” said the nay-sayers. Seniors were warned that these same youth would commit all types of vandalism and generally create chaos in place of current peace and quiet. Of course, traffic would increase creating some indefinable bottleneck whenever the anyone tried to drive out onto the city street. And not to be forgotten, there is the little matter of the affordable housing nature of the complex attracting less than desirable residents of the—well, “low to moderate income” variety. If you want to know that you are face to face with a NIMBY, listen to what they have to say. Nearly all NIMBYs will begin their comments with this phrase: “I’m in favor of [proposed idea]. But this just isn’t the right location for it.” Or, “Don’t get me wrong, we need [proposed idea] just not in this place.” With this project we heard these words so often that we jokingly suggested the City Clerk (who’s job it was to take notes and transcribe tapes to produce the meeting minutes) could save much time by using a kind of copy – paste command repeatedly during the public comment portions of the hearings. Another common characteristic of NIMBYs is that they generally know where something doesn’t belong or shouldn’t happen—that is their own back yard—but they are short on ideas of where this same (otherwise good idea) should happen. With this project no one seemed to have any idea of another more appropriate parcel, other than some general wish that perhaps it could be completely removed to the unincorporated area away from the main population. The City Council approved this project, with a vote of 4-1. A few months after the construction was completed, I got a call from one of my friends. “My daughter is living in one of the apartments with our grandson,” Lupe told me. “It took a long time for them to go through all the paperwork and approve her. They checked into everything! But now she is in and she just loves it there.” Lupe’s daughter is a single mother who works in a service position at the local hospital. From the time she applied until the time she was accepted as a tenant was about three months. I couldn’t have been happier. This little development is the kind of place I’d like my mother to live. She’s eighty-five and still quite independent, and she resists the idea of being “stuck somewhere with a bunch of old folks.” She’d prefer to have some children around. My mother recognizes the value of inter-generational contact. She’s not wealthy, but I’m not sure she’d qualify for the moderate to low income threshold. If she did, this would be a great place for her to live for as long as she is able to live on her own. On another shady block on the edge of our historic downtown there is a charming old Victorian. During the days of the gold rush and on into the nineteen hundreds it served as a bordello, but that business wrapped up at least fifty years ago. Zoned multi-family because of the number of rooms, entrances and overall capacity of the old home, it has served over the years as rental property. Vacant for some time, Loni, a state certified drug and alcohol counselor purchased the home to create a “sober living environment” (SLE). A sober living environment is a kind of “half-way house” providing a drug-alcohol free residence for addicts in early recovery. In California, a local jurisdiction cannot refuse to permit the existence of this type of residence as long as the number of “beds” doesn’t exceed six. The State overrides any local ordinances or authority in this matter. I got to know Loni before she bought the property and she persuaded me that there was a need for such a “business” in our community. “These are business people, professionals and other good folk who just need a little help getting their lives together,” she told me. “When they come to my house, they are already clean and sober. They’re required to be out during the day, working or looking for work. The maximum length of stay is four months. Then they’ve got to move out and move on.” Loni cleaned, painted and restored the old home greatly improving the appearance of the property. She set stringent rules and guidelines in place and quickly filled the six “beds” in her SLE. On any given day or time, you can walk down that block of north Main street and except for possibly noting the historic nature of the building, you would likely pass it without notice. Quiet, well-maintained and well-managed, house rules allow no drinking, drugs, or parties. Smoking is restricted to a backyard patio away from the street. Loni conducts random drug testing of residents to ensure rules are being followed. And true to her prediction, residents to date have included attorneys, medical professionals, and trades people of all ages who have needed a safe haven on their journey back from addiction and on to recovery and responsibility. After successfully operating for over a year without a single incident, Loni came to the city seeking approval for two more spaces. More clients would help make it more fiscally viable to work with grant-funded clients who couldn’t afford to pay the private rates. There was plenty of room in the house, but to add “beds” crossed the threshold of state protection and put the SLE in the domain of the city and yes, the local NIMBYs. Once again they emerged in droves. They all recognized the need for such a facility, but…. I don’t need to complete that sentence for you, do I? During the public hearing process, the most ironic comment we heard came from one of the residents on an adjacent street. “Until a woman came to my door to tell me about it, I didn’t even know we had such a facility in our neighborhood,” the NIMBY exclaimed, her voice quavering. I was afraid she would cry right there in front of the council and her rapt audience. “I’m shocked and disappointed that the city would allow it!” I’d wish I could report that our city council did the right thing, but the majority of council members caved in to the pressure and denied Loni’s request. NIMBY-ism prevailed. Or is that just my opinion because the house isn’t in my neighborhood?