The Curse of Quaint

What lies behind, Part 2

Top: A few people stroll Montpelier, Vermont’s capital, easy on the eyes and low on the horizon. Below, behind those buildings (visible at top right), lies another world.

My town, population 2,600 people, just approved a bond to spend $5 million on a new garage to house road equipment. At the same time, it allocates exactly $0 to house people.

Don't get me wrong, the equipment and the crews maintaining our 75 miles of dirt and paved roads are essential; we could not function without snow clearing and road grading. But, you get my point: We need housing for people as well as for trucks.

And clearly, there is a link between the rise in unhoused people and the lack of public policy and funding supporting the creation of new affordable housing. In 2023, Vermont, renown for its liberalism (and freeze-ass cold winters), had the country's second-highest per-capita rate of homelessness—for the second year running. Of its 3,458 unhoused people, 107 are veterans, 737 are children, 855 have a mental illness, 568 have a long-term disability, and 309 are fleeing domestic or sexual violence. With shelters full, many have nowhere to go; some are being given tents and good wishes.

Subsidized, zoning-lenient, less-than quaint multi-story apartment buildings for no-, low-, and middle-income people would certainly help. But such projects, the Bean-clad gentlefolk argue, would violate exiting zoning rules, spoil the charm and character of Vermont's picturesque towns and landscapes, and support (or worse, welcome) elements that are less desirable and potentially more problematic than those nice nuclear families dwelling in single-family homes.  

And it may well be that the appeal to the preservation of the quaint, overlies a less pretty and socially acceptable rational for our skewed priorities.

So with that soap-box scold, next post will feature photos of the warm bond between people and their pets ... including, as promised, kittens.