Community Conversations

Catalysts of Change

A position paper by Dr. Deland S. Anderson regarding Community Conversations held at the Pratt Museum on 11 October 2002.

What follows is a brief summary of major themes raised in conversation on the topic of change. Some twenty-five people participated in the discussion, with little controversy, but much passion expressed.

We begin with the generalities. All participants who spoke expressed some apprehension about change in their community. Indeed a general “anti-development” sentiment seemed to pervade the group. Perhaps this is because most participants were middle-aged, with only a few young people in attendance --those who are in the middle of life are less inclined to speak in favor of change. But too it could be because the developers chose not to come to the gathering, fearing criticism from others. There is some good cause for this fear, as we live in a community whose history and larger context is rampant, unchecked development, especially in the form of extraction industries. For if the American Dream is to make it through hard work and determination, the Alaskan Dream is to make it with heavy equipment. People fear the dramatic and lasting changes wrought upon the land by steel-edged tools. Perhaps more so, people fear the political attitude of those who claim the right to do “whatever they damned well want with their property.” A recent road cut, highly visible on the steep Homer bench, has permanently scarred some people’s perception of the place. But more importantly perhaps, it is a symbolic testament to the owner’s stubborn intention to make a road simply because he could.

A second generality runs like this: those who fear unbridled change have come to embrace a) social planning or b) natural disasters as ways to stem the wrong kinds of development. This itself defines a watershed in the changing consciousness of local residents. Homesteaders, for example, were generally in favor of progress through development — their aim was no less than to refashion a remote wilderness into a center of commerce. And their efforts have paved the way for commercial and industrial development on a grand scale. For how could our current extraction and tourist industries ever find root here without the infrastructure built by the preceding generation of settlers? At the same time, these early settlers lived in fear of storm and flood, earthquake, fire, and drought. They viewed nature as a challenge at best and at worst as an adversary. More recent residents seem to have a different mindset. Perhaps this is because, as one longtime resident remarked, it’s getting easier and easier to live here — the challenges are disappearing. In any case, newcomers often strive to balance the homesteader tendency to develop with conservation measures. What’s more, the people who fear the unchecked changes wrought by their neighbors and fellow residents, sometimes fantasize about catastrophic changes to the area brought by the hand of nature — “Wouldn’t it be cool if the Spit sank again?” This comment prompted reveries amidst the group about how our local landmark could be treated differently this time, leaving it with minimal development. One participant even embraced potholes and washed out roads as occasions to check development and slow things down enough to plan and implement reclamation strategies: there’s nothing like a rough road to keep the wrong kind of people away. Suffice to say, this sentiment is miles away from the commitment to progress embraced by colonists and settlers. Yet one person, born and raised in the area, remarked that without the catastrophic effects of the 1964 earthquake, Homer would still be a backwater. For, even as Seldovia suffered the destruction of its fishing infrastructure, Homer was granted disaster relief following the earthquake that allowed the city to construct its first proper harbor. This combination of events was enough to shift the balance of trade from the south side of the bay to the north.

Differences emerged in the notion of change, between unbridled development, social planning, and natural disasters. This led to a discussion of the nature of change as such. Is there, for example, a proper rate of change? Is change gradual, like the movement of a glacier, or rather mercurial, like the weather, as one participant suggested? Is change “good”, as another remarked? Or is it neutral, as the facilitator suggested. Perhaps, change is different for everybody: economic development to one might mean a new Fred Meyer, but to another it means more kayakers. Perhaps change goes in cycles, conforming to the remark that, “Homer changes for a while, then it stays the same.” Strikingly, the group seemed to feel change was inevitable, even if not desirable. One of the young people present suggested that we “quit flailing around” and do something about it: embrace change and plan for the next generation; establish a vision. We are young enough as a community, a high school student remarked, to learn from the mistakes made by people in the Lower 48. We need to sift through what has worked and what hasn’t Outside in order to form our own culturally unique spirit.

Much of the conversation was devoted to mentioning individual changes apparent in the region. Many of these were presented as negatives, changes to be feared or fought.
►Anything built on Grass Island is going to be in your face. It will destroy our illusion of wilderness.
►The road to Homer changed everything. Not just the road, but the upgrades to it over the years. People just blow in and out of here now.
►Global warming is everywhere; floods, beetle infestations, marine life regime shifts.
►More older and richer people are coming to the area.
►They changed the grocery store all around, and now you can’t find anything.
►Bridge Creek watershed, the source of our municipal drinking water, is being logged and built up at a rapid pace.
►Bird counts are way down.
►Beach bluffs are eroding rapidly.
►Fishing is over. They’re going to start farming them now.
►Anchor Point is talking about building its own harbor.
►Oil well discharges in the Inlet are having big effects.
►I can’t believe we’re trashing this bay.
►Lawns, big cars, fancy clothes.
►This place is becoming like anywhere else.

A quick glance at this list tells much: these people are largely afraid of what is happening in their community. Maybe some of this fear is attributable to the general unrest caused by our nation’s economic downturn and the rumblings of war. But surely some of it, probably most, is due to the fact that Kachemak Bay is going through rapid changes including increased population density, elevated standards of living, lowered species diversity, spreading consumer monoculture, inflated costs of living, and changing climate. And these changes are so pervasive and so manifold that it’s dizzying. One old timer remarked that urbanization in the area has advanced to levels way beyond what was anticipated by homesteaders and that there is no control over it. Hence, it’s much easier to simply bury one’s head in the sand, to deny that change is happening, than attempt to intervene intelligently. But the cost of doing this, someone reminded, is to destroy habitat in favor of profit taking. And this is to put the greed of an individual above the common good of the community.

Other changes were mentioned as positives.
►The Kachemak Heritage Land Trust’s Town Square project promoted the good of the community through democratic process — virtually no one is against the idea of developing a town center in Homer.
►The bike trail on the Spit brought a positive change to the community, and one that did not initially meet with a positive response from the townspeople. But it was done anyway, and now former critics have become rollerbladers.
►Plans to expand the local college campus will develop the local economy while improving the area’s quality of life.
►Successful efforts to conserve greenspace and preserve wetlands and watersheds abound.
►The development of recreational opportunities, especially for young people in the area, is happening.
►For positive change to happen we must invest in our people, for “We are the catalysts of change.”

Overall these items provide some of the outlines of the emerging long term view of the community. These are constituent elements of the vision that will attend the changes now transpiring in Kachemak Bay. It is noteworthy that they all belong more properly to quality of living than to economic development. This is a testament to the people of this community who deliberately choose less material wealth in favor of greater spiritual well being. Perhaps quality-of-life is poised to replace standard-of-living as our defining idea in the next generation.

Some profound paradoxes also emerged in the course of the conversation. These fall outside the bounds of “positive” or “negative” change and speak more to the nature of change itself.
►The quality of life here is being threatened by too many quality-of-life-seekers moving to the area.
►People are motivated by greed and liberty to come here, but those values deplete communal wealth and freedom.
►Summers and winters here are more livable than they were twenty years ago. This brings more people, but they complain about the weather.
►Homer’s recent ranking as one of America’s 120 best small towns will ensure that it won’t make the list next time because it will become a boomtown.
►What happened Out There is happening here now.
►All growth is good.
►Change to the environment happens overnight. Preservation takes a lifetime.
►The water is there because of the beaver, not the other way around.
►You can’t step into the same river twice.

Though wisdom and insight abounded, the group established no hard and fast conclusions. But this is as it should be on a topic such as change. As a group they had just begun to consider what change means, to momentarily rise above concern over individual changes and to see that change is always already underway. Consequently a certain shift of tone was discernible during the course of the conversation. Whereas most people had begun listing “negative” factors as the catalysts of change in our area, in the end their fear and anger were tempered by hope and anticipation. As a facilitator in this conversation and as a community member, I learned that there are many changes afoot in Kachemak Bay, and that these people are abreast of them.