The average American city is boring, but that is OK

In a short piece for The New Yorker, Cirocco Dunlap describes the wandering between New York City and Los Angeles that was much of her young adulthood. From within the limits of each city, the other seems much more appealing, yet when she gets there, the culture and habits of the locals only make her long for the place she just left. Back and forth, she wavers between both ends of American culture, eventually ending by stating “halfway between New York and L.A., I imploded. I am so much happier now.”

The charming cities of Europe ooze with history and drip with culture. From the broad avenues of Paris, to the crooked canals of Venice, European cities might have their faults, but they do have one thing every city desires: true culture. All I need to see is a building strewn with vines and capped with a rounded mansard roof to know I am in Paris. Culture is abstract and sometimes hard to describe well with words, but it can certainly be felt from within. It may originate in people, but time is ultimately a dominant ingredient in the creation of culture.

Kansas City is not Berlin, Wichita is not Glasgow and Phoenix is not even close to Madrid. Comparing these cities is ridiculous, as their births and histories are too vastly different to weigh evenly, but I do not believe I am alone in feeling that most American cities lack the cultural presence of cities abroad.

The reason for this can only be time. The U.S. is still an infant compared to the established identities across the seas and has simply not been around enough to benefit from centuries of creativity, change and interaction among people. After spending some time living in France, I returned home to Orlando, a plastic city built by a cartoon rodent, and was underwhelmed. Ninety percent of the buildings I saw were built after 1970, and I believed if a city’s personality couldn’t be described in one sentence, then it was fatally bland.

But I was being too harsh on America. The cookie-cutter cities of the U.S. essentially follow these guidelines. A few “historical” structures stand in a central business district, surrounded by an infinitely expanding radius of subdivisions and strip malls, peppered with airports and schools and all connected with spaghetti strands of highways. The interstates of America branch out and hug the continent like veins and arteries, flowing with the blood of the country itself. The towns of America may not be historically old, but that does not mean they are deprived of anything. In fact, I think the lack of obvious “culture” in most American cities says a lot.

America’s “culture” is not simple, nor is it describable in a few words. Our history is complex, and the nature of America’s growth has made the presence of one, definable culture an enigma. Many American’s ancestors crossed a treacherous sea to settle here at some point. Very few of our families have been in this land for more than 200 years. In fact, America has long prided itself on being a melting pot; not one definable culture, but instead a beautiful and messy conglomerate of others.

With such a vast array of cultures present for most of the country’s development, it is no surprise that many of America’s cities lack one, clear cultural identity. Topeka, Kansas, may be a bore to visit, but that is not what America is for. Our cities are not tourist destinations, but homes. America has never needed to rely on a common culture, but has instead thrived on the intense unity among people willing to leave familiar home countries for the U.S. Don’t look down on the identical towns of the U.S., but appreciate them, for they represent a formula for a country that works.

Andrew Hall is a UF management junior. His column appears on Fridays.