Summary

The author describes their struggle with a fear of the suburbs, termed "Burbaphobia," and their journey towards understanding the changing socio-economic landscape of suburban areas.

Abstract

The narrative recounts the author's recent experiences with disorientation and anxiety when navigating suburban areas, particularly around Seattle. Despite initial confidence, the author finds themselves lost and overwhelmed in the labyrinthine layout of the suburbs, which triggers a phobic response. This fear seems rooted in outdated perceptions of suburbs as homogenous and conformist. However, through research, the author learns that modern suburbs are becoming more diverse, economically strained, and complex, with increasing racial, age, and socio-economic diversity. This new understanding helps to alleviate some of the author's anxiety, as it challenges their preconceived notions. Yet, the author also encounters information about persistent segregation and the rise of surveillance and fear in these areas, which complicates their view of the suburbs. Ultimately, the author acknowledges the need to adapt their perspective to the evolving reality of suburban life.

Opinions

The author initially believes they have overcome their phobia of the suburbs but experiences recurring anxiety when lost in suburban neighborhoods.
There is a perception that suburbs are monotonous and oppressive, with a pressure to conform to certain aesthetic and social standards.
The author's fear seems to be based on anachronistic ideas of suburbs, reminiscent of mid-20th-century stereotypes.
Research reveals that the economic and social realities of suburbs have shifted, with a growing population of poor residents, artists, creatives, and retirees.
Despite increased diversity, the author acknowledges that suburbs still face issues of segregation and limited access to low-income housing.
The rise of white supremacy groups and increased surveillance in suburbs is noted with concern.
The author suggests that phobias can evolve or diminish when confronted with new, complex information that challenges old beliefs.
The changing landscape of Seattle, becoming more suburban, is observed with a sense of resignation.

Oh No Not Again

Phobias and permafrost

It happened again yesterday.

I dropped a friend off at a doc appointment, not paying much attention to our location. He directed me past the sprawl that stretched for miles along I-90 east of Seattle. It was easy to ignore the boxy cookie-cutter houses and construction sites.

The medical building was a citadel overlooking wilderness at the top of a spiral drive. At the base of that drive were freeway exits and entrances. All that was missing were flashing lights and arrows.

It seemed easy enough.

I stayed calm when I dropped my friend off. The thought crossed my mind — I’m no longer phobic. Twenty seconds later, I could not find my way out of the parking lot. I started getting a little nervous — what another friend calls lervous — driving in circles before locating an exit.

What the hell was wrong with my brain?

I knew the task was simple, driving back down the winding road to a freeway entrance. But I drove right past it and ended up heading into a labyrinth of neighborhoods with 20 mph speed limits. Desperate to find a sign leading me back to the freeway, I tried Google maps, but no service.

My heart rate quickened as my mind scrambled. I was not at the point of panic but heading deep into Burbaphobia.

The same thing had happened a few months earlier when I dropped a package off at the home of a friend who lives in the suburbs. Google maps helped me get there.

On the drive back to the city my wireless service failed. It was impossible to distinguish one road or house from another. Where were the landmarks? As anxiety increased, it got harder to find my way. I stopped at a gas station for directions.

I need to get back to the city. Can you help me, I asked the cashier?

Calm down Hon, said the woman with measured sarcasm. You’re almost there. She walked me outside to make sure I understood her simple directions.

I seem to equate lost in the suburbs with being stuck there. Forever.

I dread the pressure of maintaining a manicured lawn and tending uniform geometrically shaped shrubs. I assumed that I was obligated to power-wash my sidewalk and driveway, cleansing them of leaves and debris. I would likely need to have long conversations in grocery store aisles with neighbors about Covid, why store shelves were empty, and the best surveillance equipment to buy.

I do not consider myself a snob, but I am most comfortable in urban settings. I have lived in and enjoyed small towns and even rural towns. I have never lived in a suburb. Maybe I was fueling my fears with outdated versions of suburbs from the mid-20th century — ticky-tacky houses mixed with grand mansions, white flight, or at least people fleeing cities settings for more homogeneuous, safe neighborhoods and better-funded schools.

I needed to focus on thawing out my permafrost-covered brain, and opening up to the 2021 reality. I started reading about suburbs. I learned that economic realities have changed — and continue changing due to Covid — and other factors like soaring house prices, unemployment, and increased poverty. Since 2005, more poor people live in suburbs vs urban areas.

It’s about survival. Buying or renting a house in the suburbs is likely more feasible as 2021 suburban house sales proved. Suburbs have gradually become more racially and economically diverse. Artists and creatives have moved there. So have people over 65 looking for affordable places to retire. Ironically, for one of the traditional suburban demographics — young families with kids — suburbs are no longer the best place to live.

What I read was surprising, which helped melt the virtual permafrost in my brain. With more complex information to consider, my phobia was loosening its grip on my thoughts and emotions.

That would have been the ideal time to stop reading and invent the permafrost melting method for phobias. I could have gone on the psychology workshop circuit at Hilton Hotels all across the nation.

But, no.

I chose to read that last 2021 article on suburbs, which flipped my brain again. Suburban neighborhoods may be more diverse, but that does not mean they are well integrated — segregation is alive and well in the Burbs. In addition, less access to low-income housing buildings is currently available.

I’ll stop there.

The article continued, exploring the rise of white supremacy groups and the evolution of fear and surveillance. In contrast, it also offered examples of suburbs becoming more community-centered as shopping malls disappear.

All in all, I learned that phobias do unfreeze and shift, especially if we stop validating them and take note of changes. Even ones happening in Seattle — which is experiencing an increase in box-shaped dwellings and deconstruction of landmarks. It’s beginning to look more like the suburbs here with each passing day.

I am hoping I can keep finding my way home.