Tent City, USA

‘Tis the season of the 3^rd annual State of the Union Address and reelections once again. During this time I am always reminded of how many Americans disagree on so many different levels. Sifting through last night’s tweets about SOTU and other trending topics, I noticed that a quarter of the posts support Obama, a quarter mock him, and the rest are about cheese quesadillas—another trending topic in our esteemed nation.

As much as I wish America, and everywhere for that matter, could function as a solid, united whole, I no longer think it’s feasible to please a population this size (except maybe if Obama offered free quesadillas for all). With the unique set of problems that every family and individual face on a daily basis, many political decisions end up hurting just as many people as they please. A bi-partisan government is not the solution to a multifaceted population, and we’re going to keep struggling if we believe so. Our cutthroat politics are just that—cutthroat—and you can’t sop up that much blood with soggy quesadillas.

When I’ve been burdened by this thought in the past, I would always be reminded of one of my favorite childhood reads, The Lord of The Flies. I’m sure you’re familiar with this classic—a group of young boys stranded on an island are forced to implement their own democracy so they don’t end up dead. Granted their efforts were wildly unsuccessful and the result is, once again, cutthroat, it makes me wonder how populations would function if divided into self-governed groups of similar minded people.

I never thought this would be a reality until I was home in Jersey this past Christmas. Passing through Camden, one of the most crime-ridden cities in America, I saw a tall tower of smoke coming from a plot of tents. I asked my dad what it was, and he responded that it was called “Tent City” which I later learned was a community of homeless people who governed themselves. I thought to myself “Hmmph, whoever lives there is probably the real Lord of the Flies.”

Intrigued by the dynamics of such a place, I researched this phenomenon and found that tent cities are actually quite common. People who lost everything in the economic downfall joined forces to create their own resitential communities. And unlike our communities, tent city citizens all play an equal role in creating and implementing their own laws. And if you so chose to be disobedient, you get the boot. Really though.

Transition Park, Camden, New Jersey

Camden’s Tent City, technically called Transition Park, is interesting to me because it’s in plain site when merging on the Ben Franklin Bridge to Philadelphia. This community, which speaks volumes about our society and economy, popped up just outside the City of Brotherly Love, the place our government was born. Founded on similar principles as our homeland, this community has proven surprisingly fruitful. When you approach the area, you can clearly see the rules nailed to a tree. Starting simple with “no arguing” and escalading to “follow the rules or be evicted,” they seem to work—the community joins together to clean up the lot, build better shelters, and even organize a Christmas feast.

I’m not saying we should all ditch our homes and make primitive tent communities, but it’s refreshing to see those who have lost it all to cope with the hardship together. I think we could all be inspired by the sense of oneness stressed in these tent cities and try to think in terms of the whole population rather than on an individual level. Both the novel Lord of the Flies as well as tent cities (which could have just as easily been coined the same name) are in a constant battle between human nature, individual welfare, and the common good. It’s obvious which principle Transition Park focuses, but what about America?