I’m expecting my first child. With that, my husband and I are often fished into the conversation of home prices and the grand debate of the urban vs suburban. Early enough in the pregnancy, we made our transition from a one-bedroom NYC apartment to a two-bedroom. Still, my parents, in particular my father, like to hammer away and pry into this conversation whenever there’s a remote reminder of it.
This time it was on the drive back from Mother’s Day lunch. The reminder struck when the GPS directed us to get off the highway and onto Northern Blvd to avoid traffic. As we drove along what’s effectively the Queens-Nassau county Champs-Élysées (yes, this has an air of sarcasm), my dad once again dove into how ridiculously unaffordable Queens has become and how it’s far more wise to buy a home on Long Island.
He went through the numbers, explaining price per square foot, how much more space and privacy you get in the suburbs, and how even with higher property tax rates you end up paying less over the life of a fixed 30 year mortgage to live in the suburbs just outside of New York City, rather than New York City proper. He went on to say that Queens has become unattainable for families just starting out, that Long Island homes are bound to increase in value because of how many families are priced out of New York, and that Queens is being redeveloped to look like Manhattan, rather than the two-family dwelling bedroom borough he’s familiar with and still resides in.
As I listened to the soap box speech for the 100th time, there wasn’t a lot to add. Nothing he said was wrong. Without having finished high school, my dad essentially summarized the NYU Urban Economics course I had to pay 5,000 dollars for.
In any city, the closer you live to the Central Business District (“CBD”), the higher your housing costs. At the same time, the farther you live from the CBD, the higher your transportation costs, both in terms of hard dollars and the opportunity cost of living a significant portion of your life in transit, whether by car or other means.
My father focused more on the housing costs though, overlooking the transportation costs. It’s not that he doesn’t understand the concept though. He does. He just believes that it’s a sacrifice you should / must make in order to reap the benefits of the suburbs, to give your family the best possible life. And, that’s our point of disagreement and the point wherein I jump in and give my two cents.
I talked about how the city, mostly referring to Queens, is quickly becoming wildly expensive because it offers what the suburbs can’t: walkability, interesting places to see and experience, and 24/7 (well, almost 24/7) transit service, all the while still feeling like a neighborhood, rather than a sterile 9 to 5 workweek commercial district overrun with commuters just passing through with their heads fixated downward toward a screen.
Basically, as an outskirt of the New York City CBD, Queens gives you big city amenities that are the envy of suburbs. Being able to step outside of my home, walk in any direction, and find at my doorstep both the convenience of a basic 1 dollar milk and sugar bodega coffee and the luxury of an iced matcha green tea latte for 5 dollars, all without needing to load myself into the car, is the magic of New York City. Taking a casual stroll and being able to passively take notice of cute outdoor dining setups, window shop a bit, and then pick out fresh fruits and vegetables on the sidewalk from a grocer is all uniquely urban.
These simple pleasures, being perfectly mobile without a car and having so much so nearby, is was what made the early months of COVID bearable. Some people fled New York City during COVID; I honestly can’t imagine having been in the suburbs. Because, no matter how nice your four walls are, you will get tired of them. And at that point, you’d like to go outside and see something remotely intriguing, not the monotony of perfectly manicured lawns.
Let me state the obvious here. I just listed a bunch of strategic advantages for a millennial who values cool coffee shops, entertainment, and the instantaneous city-that-never-sleeps lifestyle. Do any of those values overlap for a baby, toddler, or child (let’s leave out teenage years because I can undoubtedly say that they value to be seen in the COOLEST places, hookah bars anyone?)
Herein lies the rub, I can’t answer this question yet. I haven’t had to push a stroller through a NYC crosswalk post blizzard with a slush puddle as wide as the Nile. Better yet, haven’t had to navigate the subway system with a stroller. I haven’t dealt with taking my kid to the park and finding broken glass bottles strewn about. I can’t relate to what it’s like dealing with noisy neighbors or a noisy bar that’s so bumping it interferes with baby’s sleep schedule. So, all in all, there’s only so much I could say on this without risking looking back on this piece in a year and saying it to myself “Wow, you should really live first before you speak.”
What I could talk about more confidently is my own experience growing up in the quintessential Queens two-family home where your living space is essentially an apartment, but you do have the bonus of your own backyard. First, I remember being happy in Queens. I never felt that my house was too small. I remember taking walks with my mom to the laundromat, taking a short bus ride to go to my grandma’s house, being treated to Burger King or McDonald’s when we were out shopping locally. Some of my best memories were visiting or spending the day with my mom at work in Manhattan. At the time she worked in the hotel industry and was, I think, a telephone operator. She had a whole room to herself so visiting was common and acceptable to her bosses. During her lunch break she took me to the Borders bookstore right down the street on Park Avenue. I remember not lacking.
At the same time, I remember being jealous of the houses with stairs that I saw in movies. I thought of what it would be like to have my own room. One Christmas I was given an automated train set where you can lay down the track any which way and have the train roll through. Having more floor space would have been ideal. Even though I had my own backyard, mine had little concrete and my growing interest for basketball wasn’t that well served on 4'x4' sidewalk flags. I lived across the street from a public park, but as a young girl calling next on the basketball court that was swarmed with boys wasn’t easy. So, I daydreamed of having a big suburban driveway with the hoop attached to the front garage.
All in all, I grew up just fine. Living in the city never seemed weird, or like the wrong thing. When I visited friends or family in the suburbs I thought to myself that all that extra space was luxurious and opened the door to new possibilities (more space for my train!)
The choice between the city and the suburbs shouldn’t be decided based on affordability though. However, the goal of this piece isn’t to talk about solutions to the affordability problem superstar cities are facing. That would merit its own dedicated entry. This was more so an exercise in bringing to life the affordability problem through story. When my parents made their housing choice 30 years ago, living in the city wasn’t a boojee hipster choice. It was just as economically sensible as living in the suburbs.
I hope my short story speaks well to others: other families who aren’t sure if they’re making the right choice or other urbanists who are interested in what makes cities vibrant, diverse, and livable. For families that think the suburbs are golden ticket to giving your child the best possible life, I can definitively say this: it isn’t. Growing up in smaller spaces will not irrevocably damage them. They’ll be just fine.
To urbanists who care about cities and want to make them inclusive of all household and income types this much is clear, if a city is welcoming and livable for a family, you’ve done something right. It means you’ve designed a place that’s accessible, both in terms of its tangible physicality and its intangible social heartbeat. It also means you will help prevent yet another American family from having to live at the mercy of their car, going from strip mall to mega mall to drive-through, all because their neighborhood is both physically impossible and disinteresting to navigate on foot.
