Blogging Social Difference in LA: Week 2

                 Orange County, the quintessence of postsuburbia according to Olin, Kling and Poster in the article “The Emergence of Postsuburbia,” harmonizes both the stimulating city center detailed by Ernest Burgess in “The Growth of the City” and the ability to live in “widely separated worlds” (Burgess), worlds separated both by distance and difference. I can confirm after traveling through Orange County and walking around Orange and Irvine that there is plenty of land and diversity...if you know where to look. In order to witness this diversity, it was necessary to travel through various smaller regions within the region; pockets of homogeny seemed common, including the old town center of Orange and the residential areas of Irvine. Orange country has many of the aspects outlined in Olin’s article, which defines postsuburban as a society that has broken off from the urban core (Los Angeles in this case).

Development is evident at every turn in Irvine; I saw countless signs designating new apartments and office buildings in every direction. Like the coral structures of a coral reef, the largely technological businesses are the fundamental structures of the Irvine-Costa Mesa-Newport Beach regional center, attracting a dynamic and diverse labor force. Coral reefs may be slightly more colorful and visually appealing than the mainly monochrome, simple, sleek, modern architecture, but Irvine is carefully planned-out and functions in an economically sustainable manner. It was built for success. 
               This ability to self-sustain was previously uncharacteristic of suburban areas, as their core still remained in the city. Orange County demonstrates, however, that though its early immigrants largely came from the city of Los Angeles in search of more affordable housing and room to breathe, it did not depend on L.A. Orange County now has its own pulse, even if it is less palpable in certain areas, originating from a unique heart that beats with determination and intention. It is not the same as the “pulse of the community” (Burgess) other regions of L.A., which signifies a state of mobility in terms of growth and metabolism. Great mobility leads to great consequences. The ever-changing and expanding body of people leads to growing pains: areas of demoralization. Such areas of vice as a result of over-stimulation were not evident (if they exist) to me on my travels through Irvine and Orange. Especially in Irvine, I felt particularly and eerily safe. I heard no sirens and saw many police cars with nothing to do. The roads were clean and wide, the buildings were numerous but not decrepit or belittling, and the few people I came into contact with were pleasant and unhurried. One reason for this may be because people immigrated into Orange County with a different mindset than those drawn to the heart of the city, including the desire to find jobs and become educated: “43 percent of new residents have college or graduate degrees compared with 35 percent of longer-term residents” (Olin).

               The hardworking immigrants—along with people from all over the country—who now live and work in one of Orange County’s various regions, have helped shape the postindustrial society that continues to develop and set the trend for other postsuburban areas. Los Angeles and other large cities have a single center, while Orange County consists of multiple. While the residential and business areas are distinct from each other, they are still in close proximity, therefore allowing people to live, work, and play without having to spend hours on the freeway.

                 Furthermore, I found that the city centers do not match the intense degree of “danger, excitement, and thrill” (Burgess) in downtown Los Angeles, but rather attract those who do not mind dulled lights; for some, the bright lights of the city are not attractive, or not attractive enough to justify the living expenses. While in Orange, I walked around the Orange circle, which is a roundabout filled with restaurants, one too many antique stores, and a mix of elderly, families, and students. I interviewed various people, and found that most had recently moved to Orange County in the past two years and enjoyed it better than their previous location. My waitress at the vegan restaurant Rutabegaz moved to Orange two years ago with her husband, who commutes daily to Los Angeles for work. Although she would prefer a house in Long Beach, she chose to live in an apartment in Orange where it is less expensive and where she can use her own two feet as transportation. She babysits for a friend east of downtown Orange and noticed that the neighbors are friendly. Her friend believes it to be a great place to raise her family. A fifty-year-old man living in Irvine had a similar perspective, describing the “entire community’s” involvement in surfing; it is a form of family bonding, even for those his age and older to participate. Originally from Chicago, he appreciates the laid-back atmosphere and “friendlier people.” One middle-aged woman I interviewed in an antique store would agree that Orange County is “less pretentious” than further north in places like Bel Air.

                Like the Suburbia of the 1920’s, white, middle class, and family oriented, the old town of Orange appeared lacking in diversity and conflict. In the more recently developed areas, like Irvine, a more diverse conglomeration exists. If I were to solely rely on my photographs as empirical evidence to support conclusions about the city, I would have only supported my preconceived notions. As I walked through a luxurious apartment complex, I felt almost lost among the sameness, but the people on the inside are not what the outside might suggest. Though the landscape is not diverse, the ethnicities are. Though the people are ethnically diverse, their similar goals seem to draw them together. The spectrum of social classes did not seem as wide as in other parts of L.A., but at least there was a spectrum.

                  As an active, social being, I was quick to note the absence of people walking along the streets or neighbors out in their yards as I drove through Irvine. Instead of disappointingly deeming it a community of hermits, I must include that it was raining. I must give them a second chance. Still, I sensed a quietness. There is not a hustle-and-bustle. The streets are made for cars, not people. Shopping malls like Irvine’s Spectrum seem to function as small city-centers where people seek not only clothes, but entertainment as well; the Spectrum is complete with a Ferris wheel, a movie theater, and various restaurants suited for large groups. It is reminiscent of a dense, street-oriented city center common before the 1980s. Peculiarly though, strangers do not often speak with one another, and it is a driving distance away from residential areas. There is a sense of community, but not genuine community. I also counted at least ten small shopping centers on my way through Irvine, most of which were entitled something similar to “village center” or "Marketplace." The signs seemed forced. It didn’t feel organic. Because it isn’t. Nevertheless, I appreciate the effort to create a community-like atmosphere. Community should not be shaped by concrete or signs, and as separated as the groups within Orange County are, the region functions as a unified whole according to Olin's article.

               Even as cities or postsuburbias expand, people continue to form smaller, specialized groups of often like-minded individuals, such as the middle-class business people in Irvine, or the church-going families in Orange. Overall, my experience in Orange County gave me insight into Robert E. Park’s claim that city’s contain “little worlds which touch but do not interpenetrate.” Orange County might shake hands with the cities around it, but it is its own body, with its own pulse, and an intricately designed system with diverse organs to keep it productive.