Homesick

An open letter to Lexington’s leaders from the next generation
by Carson Morris

“How do we build a city the next generation will be homesick for?”
– Rebecca Ryan (via Tom Eblen)

Dear Leaders of Lexington,

CarsonSS
  Carson Morris, Superstar

As you return to Lexington from your trip to Madison, Wisconsin, flush with ideas and possibility in the wake of your visit, I wanted to let you know that we stand ready to help make Lexington better.

While 260 of you were experiencing Madison directly, several hundred of us were following your visit in near-real-time, thanks to those few of you who shared the event using Twitter.  And while you were talking with Madison, we were actively talking about you, Madison, Lexington, and our future.  We had a vibrant discussion.

And when I saw Rebecca Ryan’s question, I hoped that you really took it to heart.  Because it means everything when I decide whether to stay in Lexington or not.  And it should inform every decision you make about our city: How do you build a city I will be homesick for?

Making me and my generation homesick won’t really be about “stuff” and status.  I know many of you were talking about tangible things – jobs, industries, neighborhoods, amenities, buildings, bike trails.  But that isn’t really what we value.  Those things don’t really make us want to stay here.  Making UK a top 20 research institution?  That may be great for attracting companies to Lexington, but I don’t see how that keeps me here.

If you want me to be homesick, you’ll have to connect with my heart.  Then, when I leave, Lexington will tug on my heart.  It will call to me.  Lexington will be the one place on earth I want to be.

How do you create a Lexington for my generation?  How do you make us homesick for Lexington?  As you settle back into your regular routines, I wanted to help you set an agenda to implement the lessons of Madison for me and my
generation.  Here are a few of my ideas.  I’m sure my friends will have many more:

Listen to us.  For years, we’ve listened as you tell us what our generation wants and needs.  And then we leave town to go to school or to find a job.  And those other places seem built for us, so we never come back.

Too many times, your tuners are set to “broadcast” instead of “receive”.  As leaders, you are used to being listened to.  We understand that.  But I and my generation need to be heard.  And we need to know that you hear us.

The Madison experience was a great case in point.  For months now, our generation has been urging you to adopt Twitter (and other social media platforms) to talk with us.  In Madison, a few of you suddenly began using Twitter.  While we appreciate your new openness, we also wonder why you didn’t grant us the same credibility as those you talked with in Madison.

If you want us to stay, you must listen to us more.

Engage us.  At one point yesterday, Mayor Newberry declared that “I don’t think there has been a time in Lexington’s history where we’ve had the level of civic engagement we have now… Lexington needs your engagement in our community now.

This is a profound and true statement from our mayor.  We do need your engagement (including you, Mr. Mayor). Now.

We’re already having conversations about the future of our city.  We’re already saying what matters to us.  We’re already talking about leaving.

In order to engage us, don’t wait for us to find you: you need to come to where we are and join our ongoing conversations.  Follow us on Twitter.  Spend time in our schools.  Read and comment on our blogs.  Share your thoughts and what you think about ours.  Debate with us.  Ask us what you can do.  Then do it.  Build on our ideas.  (P.S. We have a LOT of ideas.)

If you want us to stay, you must engage us more.

Value us.  As community leaders, you have so many opportunities to keep us in Lexington.  One of the biggest: demonstrate how much you value our talent and our intellect and our creativity.

When I get to high school, hire me as a summer intern.  Let me work on special and important projects.  Encourage me to engage my friends in the efforts to grow your organizations.

While I’m in college, toss me the keys and give me the opportunity to create something you might never imagine.  Will I stumble?  Absolutely.  Could you lose money?  Possibly.  But – if I’m successful – we both will profit.  And, either way, knowing that you value me will make me incredibly loyal – to you and to our city.

When I graduate and get a job, ask me what kind of places I want to live in.  What I want to do after hours.  What kind of neighborhood I want.  What is important to me.  Then – and this is the vital part – go build it for me.  It will benefit us both.

(P.S. Also do these things for your current generation of citizens and employees.  Then stand back.  Your success will blow you away.  It might keep some of the current generation in Lexington, too.)

If you want us to stay, you must value us more.


Respect us
.  Listening.  Engaging.  Valuing.  It is all about showing fundamental human respect for us and our viewpoints.  If you demonstrate that kind of respect in your actions and in your attitudes, several wonderful things will begin to happen.

First, the right kinds of “stuff” – jobs, buildings, neighborhoods, amenities – will begin to emerge to tug on our hearts.  Our community – and our love for our community – will become much more vibrant.

Second, our economy will begin to flourish.  Giving us a platform to express and implement our ideas will help create the idea-rich economy that you learned about in Madison.  Having our voices and views incorporated into the community’s future gives us a stake in making that future happen.

Third, our brand will improve.  As Daddy has mentioned previously, you don’t get to decide our brand.  Blue horses or spotted yaks are irrelevant to whether I choose to love my city and to whether I choose to stay in Lexington.  A better brand emerges from being a better city.  And that starts with respecting your citizens and employees.

If you want to build a better Lexington – the kind of Lexington you are envisioning upon your return from Madison – you must listen to us.  You must engage us.  You must value us.  You must openly and actively demonstrate your respect for us.

Then, you will have built a city that my generation will be homesick for.  That could be your legacy.  We’re already here.  And we want to engage you.  We want to help you succeed.  Join us.

Thanks,
Carson

Carson Tate Morris
2 years, 5 months old
Citizen, Future Voter, and Superstar

I choose both

“The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two
opposing ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to
function. One should, for example, be able to see that things are
hopeless yet be determined to make them otherwise.”

                                                — F. Scott Fitzgerald (via Ace Weekly)

“You must be the change you wish to see in the world.”
                                                — Mohandas K. Gandhi

There is a revolution brewing in Lexington.  Fed up with the intransigence and bureaucracy of ‘old’ Lexington, ‘new’ Lexingtonians are gearing up for an overthrow of the old regime.

As a lifelong rebel and iconoclast, I love it.  As a business owner, I want the more vibrant Lexington (and downtown) that these changes promise.  As a father of a two-year-old, I want my son to have the greatest opportunities to learn, live, play, and work – and want his birthplace to provide those opportunities.  Lexington must change, or it will not grow.  If it does not grow, Lexington will wither and die.

Still, I’m a bit troubled…

More on why in a bit.  First, we need to describe the new and old Lexingtons.  (Or, if you Twitter – and you should#OldLex and #NewLex.)

OldLex is rooted in our city’s and our region’s traditions.  It wants to build on the heritage of our horse farms, our coal, our bourbon, our tobacco, and our basketball.  It values formality and processes and order and control, and is often obstinate in the face of change.  OldLex tends to respect big international companies, large events, and wealth.  It generally shuns technology.

NewLex is borne of our city’s innovative and intellectual potential.  It yearns to be free of restrictions and limitations imposed by centuries of tradition.  It values innovation and creativity and transparency and freedom, and usually gleefully wallows in the messiness and chaos of change.  NewLex tends to respect speed, intellect, local-ness, and the environment.  It embraces technology.

So there, in admitted caricature, are the two cultures of Lexington.  They currently stand in perplexed opposition to one another.  They blink in bewilderment at the other’s actions (or inactions) and question the other’s motives.

I am a confirmed NewLex kinda guy.  As a reader of this blog, I suspect that you also lean toward the NewLex camp.

But, as I mentioned, I’m troubled by something in the conflict between NewLex and OldLex.  I also hear the same concern echoed in comments on my blog and in NewLex Twitter discussions.  In summary, it is this: The desire for continuity is almost as strong as the desire for change.

While we decry the adoption of outdated icons of horses as the central identity our city, we still love the beautiful horses, the farms, the racetracks, and the uniqueness they bestow upon our city and state.

We wish that some of the $36.5 million that just went to our new basketball coach had gone instead to improve our schools or our university.  But we do love our ‘Cats, our Coach Cal, and our championships.

We cannot fathom why our city’s representatives haven’t adopted more transparent practices and implemented more current technologies, but what, really, have we done to facilitate that?  (Have I already forgotten how mystifying Twitter was just a couple of months ago?)

As much as we advocate overturning the old ways of thinking and the old ways of doing things, we NewLexers sure like a lot of the old things.

And we should like them.  The horses, the basketball, and the bourbon are all significant and important parts of our heritage and our identity.  They are a part of what makes us ‘US’.

And in that heritage lies our one bond with our OldLex foes, and, I believe, our single best opportunity to effect real and necessary change in our city.  As NewLexers, we must challenge ourselves to embrace and leverage our past as a springboard into our future.

Can a vibrant horse industry exist alongside an even-more-vibrant Eds-and-Meds economy?  I think so.

Can we use Lexington’s defunct distilling industry and empty warehouses to build a vibrant arts and cultural (and distilling!) community?  I think so.

OldLex certainly comes with many flaws.  But, if we’re honest with ourselves, NewLex can be just as problematic.  We often come off as brash and abrasive.  I kinda like being brash and abrasive.  The problem is that ‘brash and abrasive’ doesn’t get the hard work of changing our city done; It brings such work to a halt as OldLex digs in their heels.

NewLex often appears impractical.  We are full of plans and ideas, but frequently come up way short on tangible actions and, ultimately, results.  We must learn to transform our ideas and plans into actions on the ground.  We must, in short, be the change we wish to see in the world.

So I make a declaration that may not be popular with all of my NewLex compatriots: I choose both.  I choose the heritage that makes Lexington great.  I choose the creativity and intellect that will drive us into the future.  I choose to act with transparency and speed.  I choose to love the singular beauty of our horse farms.  I choose to reject the parts of (Old AND New) Lexington which hold our city back from becoming truly great.  NewLex?  OldLex?

I choose both.  I choose Lexington.

The UnTower Manifesto: 1. Truth

[Note: The UnTower Manifesto is a three-part series about responding to the failure of CentrePointe.  You can read the full story of that failure here.]

As the CentrePointe project becomes the UnTower scandal, a general consensus has developed which agrees that CentrePointe will never be built on the crater that its developers rushed to create.

A critical question, then, is this: If CentrePointe will not be successfully constructed, how should Lexington move forward in the wake of the UnTower scandal?

There is the obvious question of how to proceed with the colossal scar in the middle of our city.  But there is also the less obvious – but, ultimately, more important – issue of changing how Lexington works in order to prevent the next UnTower catastrophe.  Let me start there, and we’ll return to the issue of what to do with the site.

Toward a Better Lexington
The details of how UnTower happened have slooowly trickled out from the developers.  Their secrecy, lack of candor, intimidation, outright deception, and possible fraud have sharpened questions about how decisions have been made throughout the project’s approval process.  UnTower has exposed how opaque and how ill-informed our mayor’s and our Urban County Council’s decision-making processes have been.  And, if you look closely enough, the scandal shows us how Lexington should improve.

So, how did this fiasco happen?  The details have been covered many times from many, many, many quarters, so I’ll simply summarize the key themes:

  • Throughout UnTower, the developers have maintained great secrecy about the financing and the business model behind their development.  As details have emerged, neither looks viable.
  • The developers claim their project is ‘private’, but have pressured the public to provide approvals and special Tax Increment Financing (TIF) for the project, with much of the TIF dependent upon a vibrant long-term business model which they don’t have.
  • The developers, the mayor, and some council members have not shared how and when they learned about key elements of and issues with UnTower which led to its ultimate demise.
  • The developers, the mayor, and much of the council have responded to pointed and informed questions about the project with vague, non-responsive answers.  Often, they refused to respond at all.
  • While there was public discussion about the decisions our government was making, the conversation was muffled by their timing and format.

In the end, the whole affair had a distinct ‘backroom deal’ flavor to it which left more questions than answers: How were these decisions made?  What information went into the decisions?  What information was withheld?  What information was fabricated? Who talked with whom about the project?  When did they talk?

All of the questions have raised a bigger question: How is it possible that our community doesn’t have absolute clarity into how decisions are made by our elected representatives?

In my business, if we failed to clearly explain how a vehicle was repaired, we’d lose customers.  If we came across as less-than-honest, our loyal customers would fire us.  If we refused to meet with a customer to address their complaints, they would tell their friends and family.  If we didn’t make things right when we screwed up (and, yes, that does happen occasionally), our reputation would suffer.  In the end, our business would fail.

With UnTower, our community’s ‘business’ failed us.

Clarity.  Explanation.  Honesty.  Availability.  Accountability.  These are the pillars of a transparent business that customers can believe ‘does things right’.  A healthy, vibrant business which grows and prospers.

We wouldn’t accept anything less than these qualities from a business.  And we shouldn’t accept anything less from Lexington.

In an age of websites, blogs, Twitter, and Facebook, every business has had to engage in conversations with customers on the customers’ terms.  The ubiquity of the internet means that these tools are available to nearly everyone, nearly everywhere.  The latency of the internet means that the conversations don’t have to happen at the same time – they can build over time.  The internet’s ubiquity and latency forms the foundation of a new and better town hall.

Why should we all have to cram into a room at the same time?  Why should we have to play ‘beat the clock’ when talking about issues which are complex and nuanced?  Why should we have to forgo pressing business or personal matters to attend a meeting which is designed to be convenient for our representatives?

The internet provides the perfect public forum for every citizen to express his or her public policy views, ideas, and thinking.  Even better, our ideas can build on one another as we tinker with and improve the ideas of our neighbors.  Plus, conducting civic conversations on the internet can happen around the clock.  Citizens can participate in the public discussion when and where it is convenient for them, not for the elected representatives who serve them.  Isn’t that the way it should be?

Further, every single representative should publish their conversations, thinking, dilemmas, trade-offs, beliefs and positions (and the transactions between them and other interested parties – like developers or investors or campaign contributors).  These records should be posted online for all citizens to see, comment on, debate, and improve.

The council members’ emails are listed on the city’s website, as are the mayor’s newsletters.  But these are old, closed, one-way forms of communication.  They aren’t vibrant community discussions.

So, do I want to see tweets that the mayor’s advisor is picking up eggs?  Or a Facebook entry featuring the halloween costumes of the councilwoman’s children?  Not particularly.  But we deserve to see real-time updates of their thinking on critical community issues.  We should know why they have changed their minds at the last minute.  They should tell us who they talked with and what they said.  After all, they are public officials.  We should see into a transparent civic machine which serves all of us.

What is clear is that a 19th-century civic apparatus has hamstrung our 21st-century community. The ancient contraption allows far too many secrets to hide within.  Whether our representatives and our governments use blogs, Twitter, Facebook, or some other platform matters far less than whether they start participating in open conversations with the people they serve.

The technology already exists.  Millions of people already use it.  Thousands of your constituents use it every day.  It’s easy.  It’s free.  And it will make Lexington better.  What are you waiting for?

[Continued in: The UnTower Manifesto: 2. Consequences]

 

[where: E Main St & N Limestone St, Lexington, KY 40507]

The UnTower Manifesto: 3. Beyond UnTower

[Note: The UnTower Manifesto is a three-part series about responding to the failure of CentrePointe.  You can read the full story of that failure here.]

The final piece of the UnTower puzzle is what to do with the pit now that the historic buildings are gone and the promised tower cannot be built.

Up front, let me declare that I don’t have all of the answers regarding what needs to be done with the block.

But I do have some general principles which we might start to apply to the site.

  • Create a vibrant destination which attracts in-town residents, weekday workers, other folks from throughout the Bluegrass, and tourists.
  • Make that destination a distinctive place which no other city has (and this doesn’t need to be a towering monument to ego)
  • Create public and private spaces within the destination which allow the community to create shared experiences while also providing a much needed economic boost
  • Balance the types of uses within the development to include an attractive mix of retail, nightlife, dining, and lodging options
  • Ensure local businesses have significant presence within the development to help supercharge the local economy
  • Ensure that the space is well-integrated with the surrounding community and that its design promotes circulation throughout surrounding businesses and public spaces
  • Build it soon.  Remove the eyesore that the UnTower scandal left behind.

So lets look at these principles in more detail.

Destination.  If we want the UnTower block to directly feed the local economy, we need it to function as a destination for both our visitors and our community.  The previous imposing design did not encourage local residents to participate in the space.

Distinctive Place.  The new development should, to the extent possible, function as a signature place for Lexington.  Much like Keeneland and our horse farms showcase Lexington as a city like no other, the new development should showcase our city, our region, and our people.  Portland, Austin, Miami, Chattanooga, Denver, and even Louisville have these memorable and distinctive signature places.  Lexington should, too.  A distinctive place will draw people (and dollars) into our community; A forgettable one will not.

Public and Private Spaces.  The most effective places (like those in the cities above) combine public spaces with private enterprise.  Thus, memorable shared experiences can also feed the local economy.

Balanced Use.  Others have proposed using the block for a single kind of use – say, a new basketball arena.  Such dedicated uses of the property would be counterproductive to our economic engine.  To get the biggest economic bang for the buck, we should encourage a unique and balanced mix of stores, restaurants, attractions, clubs, and perhaps a unique ’boutique’ hotel.  (My best-ever customer experience was at a Kimpton Hotel, which made for a hugely positive impression of Portland in general.  What if Lexington could wow its visitors like that instead of giving them a bland cookie-cutter hotel?)

Local Businesses.  To supercharge the impacts of the dollars spent within the new development, we should try to ensure that many of the businesses located there (30%? 50%?) are local businesses.  This will yield two big benefits.  First, it would contribute to the distinctive character of the place.  Second, it would keep a significant portion of that money in Lexington.

Integration.  When CentrePointe was proposed, many derided the design as too fortress-like and too disconnected from the city fabric.  The UnTower scandal offers an opportunity to correct that mistake.  The new development could more thoroughly integrate with several aspects of downtown development.  The site borders Phoenix Park, Courthouse Plaza, and the History Museum / old Courthouse / Cheapside complex.  An ‘open’ design would promote circulation through those spaces (and into surrounding businesses) and would better integrate with our other urban initiatives (such as our street improvement plans).

Build Soon.  Regardless of the type of development we ultimately put on the UnTower block, we probably have missed our window for using it to improve our city’s appearance for the World Equestrian Games in 2010.  Nonetheless, we cannot allow the crater left by UnTower to remain.

Is this list comprehensive enough (or even correct)?  Probably not.  Feel free to point out what I got wrong or what I missed.

In any case, this is the kind of civic discussion that the citizens of Lexington must engage in if we are to build a better community – and if we are to heal the scar in the middle of our city.

[where: E Main St & N Limestone St, Lexington, KY 40507]

Discovery tale: Do you have a Bugatti in the garage?

1937-bugattiThe recent discovery of a classic, rare, and dusty 1937 Bugatti in an old English garage got me thinking.

The Bugatti fits neatly into the popular imagination as a kind of “discovery tale”.  Discovery tales are those romantic, hopeful stories about finding some valuable piece of treasure in an unexpected place.

The discovery tale permeates our culture:

  • The Rembrandt (or Picasso) in the attic
  • The winning Lotto ticket
  • The mid-19th-century stock certificate left by a long-lost aunt
  • The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow
  • The gambler who wins the big jackpot in Vegas
  • The starlet discovered in the drugstore
  • The search for El Dorado
  • Cinderella
  • The Antiques Roadshow

These are all stories built around the discovery tale.  Usually, the tales result in untold millions for the “discoverers”: the family who found the Bugatti will be getting nearly $4.5 million.

It is a compelling story.  Except that it is totally unrealistic.

Don’t get me wrong — I really like these stories, too.  As long as they are treated as fun, fantastical tales.

When the discovery tale becomes a personal strategy for wealth or success, it is a problem.  It is deadly when it becomes a build-it-and-they-will-come business strategy.

It is a problem in two ways.  First, it promotes faith in a highly unlikely outcome.  What do I mean?  Let’s be generous and suppose that there are 100,000 Bugattis (or Rembrandts or jackpots or stock certificates) in the world.  Only a fraction of those Lotto tickets are going to be found in any one year (it took nearly 50 years for the family to find the Bugatti – there’s a reason that such discoveries are so rare and notable).  Again, let’s be generous and assume that 5% of these (5,000 or so) are discovered per year.

At this point, there is literally a one-in-a-million chance that you will be the discoverer of the next Bugatti in 2009.  And that’s after being generous with our assumptions.

If you are now tinkering with the assumptions — “Maybe there are really a million Bugattis and there’s really a 20% chance of finding one…” — please STOP.  It is nice to hope, but it is destructive to manipulate the odds in order to justify hoping.

The second big problem with discovery tale strategies is that they are passive.  Discovery tales encourage waiting and hoping as a substitute for industry and ingenuity.  People put off getting a better job or starting their own business while they wait for “things” to get better or for their lottery ticket to come in.

So am I a total cynic?  No.

Everyone has undiscovered treasure.  But you don’t find it.  You use it.  Your treasure lies in your hands and between your ears.  You are the garage — go make your rare Bugatti.

[where: United Kingdom]