It has now been just shy of two months since we got on a plane with 15 suitcases and 5 backpacks to move our family of five from Seattle, USA to Valencia, Spain.
Safe to say that the novelty has certainly not worn off, but the realities are starting to set in. We still marvel at the view from our terrace and are charmed by the narrow streets and picturesque architecture. At the same time we are figuring out how to do tedious things like separate recycling into five different bins, make doctors appointments, and navigate bureaucracy that feels both rigid and entirely dependent upon you end up speaking to.
Perhaps the biggest shift has come this week when our kids started at their new Spanish school - but we’ll come back to that topic when we’re a little further out of the weeds.
Today I’m thinking about how urban design and third spaces can reflect and facilitate cultural attitudes toward care, because it’s an area where the differences between Spain and the US are striking.
We spent a recent weekend in Madrid to check out some photography exhibits and take advantage of the quick train ride from Valencia to enjoy the capital city. Our timing just happened to coincide with the arrival of Seattle friends who are spending the school year in Madrid. We suggested meeting on Sunday afternoon at Plaza Olavide, a pedestrian park with playground equipment in the middle, and surrounded by restaurant patios.
Despite hot and jetlagged kids, our meetup easily flowed into a five hour hang and sobremesa (extended conversation around the table). Kids disappeared into the middle of the circular park, only running back periodically to check in, slam some Fanta, ask for a band-aid, or take a bite of a chicken finger before running off again. The adults chatted over wine and tapas. Several hours in, we bought a little more time by handing one of the kids a credit card to treat the crew to a round of gelato a few doors down. Pretty dreamy.
This fun and easy afternoon was largely made possible by a plethora of playground-adjacent restaurant patios; a genius and intentionally-inclusive urban design choice. But it was not just this one logistical feature that allowed us the end-of-summer afternoon of adult hangout time that we very much needed.
It was also made possible by a parenting culture that is distinctly different than the helicopter style that is the norm in the US. Rather than a judgement of individual parenting styles, it’s a commentary on how both cultural attitudes and communal spaces impact what we feel is possible and necessary when we care for others.
American helicopter parenting comes out of very real and deeply ingrained social, cultural and economic pressures. We are influenced by fears of being labeled negligent or even facing legal repercussions; we feel the social and economic pressure to raise the highest-achieving children; and we have been trained to be “good parents” by shielding our children from hardship and disappointment.
In Spain on the other hand, there is a culture of passive community oversight versus intense individual supervision, and it makes parenting feel less stressful and more sustainable, especially when you already don’t have grandparents or family nearby to help. Interestingly, it also encourages autonomy.
The physical infrastructure both reflects and facilitates these different cultural norms. Even the fact that playgrounds next to restaurants are so common in Spain and not in most US cities says something about the culture of care and inclusion. Spanish cities are built around the idea that families of all ages will be out together, rather than mostly private spaces that feel distinctly unwelcoming of people outside of the “productive” and self-sufficient age range of late teens to 50s. I thought about this a lot living in Seattle - why don’t we see elderly people out and about more? Why is it so hard to take our kids places that aren’t dedicated “kids” places?
There is another variable, which is physical safety. Our sobremesa and hours of adult hangout time was also made possible by the knowledge that we had little reason to worry about our kids being in danger. On the other hand drug paraphernalia, violence and guns had become far too “normal” in and around the playgrounds near our home in Seattle.
It certainly feels safer here, but I was curious how different the crime rates truly are. Turns out violent crime rates in Seattle are 775 per 100k compared to 40 per 100k in Madrid - that’s about 20 times higher. Most crime in Spain consists of pickpockets and petty theft, with virtually no gun violence. The homicide rate in Seattle is ten times that of Valencia where we live. So, not just a feeling.
It turns out that public, outdoor life in walkable cities with concentrated and shared social spaces make people not only happier, but create a sort of natural surveillance and contribute to safety. If something uncomfortable or inappropriate was happening in a Spanish plaza, I’m convinced people would speak out loudly and directly. In the US (Seattle, in particular) people err on the side of “it’s not my business.” In Spain, whatever is happening in public is everyone’s business.
The absence of safe third spaces built with everyone in mind means that both socialization and autonomy for those in need of assistance must be hyper scheduled and carefully curated. Kids’ social activities are scheduled to the max, but they don’t know how to go outside and be bored. Elders are tucked away for “safety” but lack accessible and low-stakes opportunities to be active, socially engaged, and independent.
Making changes to US cities feels a bit like a chicken and egg problem at this point. The future design of communities is based on existing socio-cultural values, but when given the opportunity to exist in a different type of environment, we adapt our behaviors to it. When you are used to having the insulation of your own home and your own car to get anywhere, without much need for interaction, increased human contact feels uncomfortable. It’s like how I grew up talking on a landline for hours on end, but now that everyone texts I’m adverse to talking on the phone. Yet I still feel better after I do it.
It’s so important to make sure we continue to nurture community and togetherness, which is another example of how public and urban policy can have such massive impacts for generations to come. There are projects that are intentionally creating walkable multi-use spaces in the US, like the car-free, 17-acre community Culdesac living community in Tempe, Arizona. I’m curious to watch how these projects evolve and whether they become more popular.
Do you have examples of how cultural and community dynamics impact the way you care for others, or your options for doing so?
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P.S. I’ll share the things I don’t like on this immigration journey, too. I’m weary of being another person that moves abroad and talks endlessly about how much “better'“ everything is. But I do think it’s important to share observations about what is different and what we might learn from it. Thanks for being here!
Read, Listen
📻 In Case you Missed It - I was on the Death, Sex and Money podcast a couple of weeks ago talking about my parents’ very different eldercare paths. It was wonderful to speak with Anna Sale and hear my friends Wendy and Laura share their knowledge as experts in the eldercare space. Check it out if you haven’t already!
♀️ We lost two iconic women last week: Gloria Steinem and Dolly Parton. Both advanced feminism and equity in very different ways. Perhaps lesser known is that both were deeply impacted by their caregiving experiences. Gloria Steinem was of course an outspoken leader in the feminist movement, but also a caregiver to her mentally ill mother by age 10. Dolly Parton was a highly successful artist and business woman who used much of her wealth to uplift underserved communities. She cared for her husband before he died and later admitted that during that time she “didn’t take care of herself.”
We lived in a cohousing community in urban Oakland for a decade and this was very much the vibe within the confines of the community. I am so grateful for that experience, and yet it felt pretty insular because outside our area was a lot of drug use, gun violence etc. Now we live in a more suburban setting which is safer to let our kids wander to the local park without us etc, but feels more isolating for the adults.
The first day my dad wandered in the US, it was into the next door neighbor's garage. They called the cops. I'd moved my parents from Miami where no one cared about an elderly man wandering and would likely run him over to Charlotte, NC in hopes that they would be more communal. They weren't.
After the first incident, I took my dad around to the neighbors and explained that he has Alzheimer's and if they saw him to please bring him home. They didn't. The called the cops instead.
Soon after, I moved my parents back to our home country, Trinidad.
I moved them because if there are wandering elders there, people inquire about who the person belongs to. There is, indeed, community surveillance.