Native Seattleites have a reputation for having no discernible accent, and for being polite, if a bit cool. I think it's more on the side of caution. It's been said that the definition of a city is a "place where strangers meet" (Richard Sennett, The Fall of Public Man). Seattle is a very diverse city, a popular tourist destination, and very tolerant of people who are different, or downright "strange". We even have a weekly paper called The Stranger. When you're not sure just how someone you see on the street is going to react, being polite is a good strategy.
Cities traditionally had a place to draw strangers in and keep them for a while, where the residents could do business with them and keep an eye on them. It was typically an open space within the urban fabric, defined by walls of shops with residences above. Seattle has such a place in Pike Place Market. It attracts around 10 million visitors, strangers, each year. It is also a real neighborhood, with somewhere around 500 residents in affordable, senior, or market-rate housing above and behind the shops. The disenfranchised consider this their neighborhood, too, walking Pike Place and hanging out at Victor Steinbrueck Park, rubbing elbows with the tourists and offering a little genuine color. A place such as this which can truly accommodate the "Other" is the key to the urban nature of a great city, and is in fact the "soul of the city" as it has been proclaimed. Although programmed events take place here regularly, it is routinely a place for unscripted, unplanned interactions of the kind that give instruction in the need for behavior that might be called "civil", meaning an outward focus on what is taking place in the immediate environment of the city around you. An awareness of citizenship, even if temporary, is required.
The experience of this public place can be powerful, and empowering. On my first visit here I had the most emphatic conviction that a city where something like this could exist must be a truly great city. I moved here two months later (I still have a strong Texas accent). I arranged my life so that I lived on one side of the market and worked on the other, and would be at the market two to five times a day. It is my neighborhood, more than any other. The small business owners, vendors and buskers who make this place work and watch over it daily know me as a regular. Nancy "Nipples" at the Creamery makes deliveries after hours to her long-time elderly customers who can no longer make it down to the Market. The guy who designed "Bridgid, the Milk Goddess" for her van lives over the Market. Jack Levy at Three Girls Bakery, classic curmudgeon, is the enforcer. He shouts at drivers honking at slow pedestrian traffic, and when the sidewalk is full calls to the uninitiated that "its okay to walk in the street - if a car hits you, sue them".
Jonny Hahn, a truly wonderful artist and gentleman, makes beautiful music on the piano. Larry at Lamplight Books knows my tastes and will direct me to new arrivals that he thinks will interest me. Corrine Porch, a lady from Texas in her 80's, sells the Real Change paper on the corner and leaves flowers on the fire hydrant. We discuss cornbread and our favorite greens (turnip for her, mustard for me). Ciao (wrong spelling, sorry) at Bayou on First cooks gumbo better than my Cajun Grandma (sorry, again, Grandma). She shares with me whatever fruit she is snacking on that day. She would prefer to offer classic French cooking, but the Preservation and Development Authority dictates what can be served or sold, trying to keep a sense of historic continuity. Change happens, but not too fast.
The Market long ago moved away from its beginnings as a farmers market, although farmers still make a showing in season. It is always teetering on the brink of becoming something else, between socialist experiment and capitalist takeover, tourist trap and neighborhood service center. There is careful balance and frequent conflict over what the Market is or should be and who it is for. The potential for conflict is an essential element of urbanity, as is learning to deal with conflict in a civil manner. This is one important way in which an urban neighborhood is different from a suburban neighborhood. In the city, there is an outward focus, looking out on the street and the life of the city. You learn to deal with your windows being somewhat public, as well. In the city you learn to keep your private individuality, to remain a stranger, even when people are all around you and much of your life is fairly public. The house in the suburb has a more inward focus, on the hearth and the life of the family, the private fenced backyard. The city is about diversity, strangers, and potential conflict; the suburb is homogeneity, like-minded people and escape from conflict. Which is more civilized? The very word comes from the Latin for "city".
Hence the popularity of our Public Market; it is a rare novelty. It also feels very safe, even to walk in the street.
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