In this age of instant gratification, I regularly
embrace modernity, basking in its LCD glory. Empowered by advances, we now live
better than any generation before us. I know this as well as any other, living
in a large cosmopolitan metropolis. Everything is at my fingertips and
information flows at unprecedented speed. It’s easier than ever to communicate
and learn. The convenience, efficiency, and pure modernity of it all is
wonderful. Don't mistake me for a Luddite, but there's another side to our
advanced society. With all the benefits ushered in by technology, media,
and ever-evolving culture have come various complexities. Modern life is a
hassle some days. We deal with new ethical questions when our society is more
connected than ever. What was considered right is often murkier now. A debate
rages as to whether society is more or less connected. Is virtual connection at
all like human connection? How advanced will our computers, our phones, and our
games become? Traditions vanish, or perhaps just morph into something new. The
rate of change in this modern century of ours is so fast that it's altogether
too easy for the mind to tire.
We humans are creatures of habit, but we have fashioned
implements that destroy and create habits at a remarkable speed. It's often
fascinating as a millennial to ponder over just how fast things have changed in
the lifespan of our parents and grandparents. While today we practically can't
imagine life without the internet, our forbearers grew up without this
seemingly essential node of communication-and they turned out just fine. What
we take for granted simply didn't exist 40 years ago. Our calculators now carry
more power than computers that used to fill a room. It's incredible, and as we
often see with those who struggle to adapt to new gadgets, sometimes dizzying.
Our fast paced world is at times maddening.
Sometimes we need a simple prescription to treat the
headaches of modernity. Just trade in screens for sunsets. Exchange abstract
relativism for anchored community. Swap life's bureaucracy for lethargic bliss.
Being here in Cape Cod for a week has let me experience each of these facets.
Here, things are different. There's a beautiful Puritan simplicity to life-the
pace of which is more manageable. Driving down these twisty roads you pass by
gabled two-stories overlooking the bay, by miles and miles or forest, by
secluded beaches, by the beautiful landscapes which define the beautiful New
England culture that lives on.
Something as simple as a tomato stand boils everything down
to context. On a peaceful nighttime walk with my cousins, we stumbled upon a
house with a little stand out front. Walking closer, we noticed homegrown
tomatoes, flanked by a sign reading Tomatoes: $1.00 Per Bag and
a box to collect money. This stand was reminder of bygone times, of an era when
the honor system was trusted, when one could still live locally. New England's
very culture, and thus American culture, was built on this perspective. Here,
the town meeting brought people from all walks of life together in civic
participation. Neighbors were neighbors and had a duty to one another. The
stable basis of trust transcended into a sense of belonging and responsibility,
one often lost in the hustle and bustle of our race-to-the-top society. These
simpler Puritan values came to define the region, becoming a secular part of
its very cultural fabric. Here on the Cape, LCD billboards and skyscrapers are
nowhere to be seen. Chains are few and far between, with the food scene
dominated by local mom-and-pop seafood joints. Corporate America has left these
shores nearly untouched. While there is certainly a large tourist presence,
there's something lowkey about the atmosphere. It's more refined, more civil,
and more laid back then resort areas like Old Orchard or Seaside Heights. This
is more the land of Thoreau than the land of tequila. Community still has a
place in peoples' hearts.
It's precisely this atmosphere I long for sometimes. The mind
isn't stressed. Instead, it rests, far from the hassles of modern living. Work
is valued in all of its forms. Here, the love for an honest living extends even
to the ‘old economy’. While folks around the country are displaced and replaced
by the trend of treating others like numbers, in Cape Cod, good, honest work
prevails. A trip down to Chatham Fish Pier, where tourists mingle with local
fishermen, reveals as much. In many places, leaders would try to hide the
vestiges of old industry. The pier smells like fish guts, brims with the noise
of boats arriving, and reflects on an age-old pursuit. Some cities have sought
to break away from traditional lines of work, chasing good recommendations, but
forgetting the traditions that anchored their communities. Fishing is not seen
as grimy, but rather as beautiful. There is a reverence for the difficulty of
this work, for its long hours, and cultural importance. Instead of pushing away
the values of blue-collar work, this white-collar enclave embraces them,
recognizing the traditions that make this community great. It’s clear when one eats
at a local seafood shack or strolls into a town general store. People here don't
care how convenient it might be to eat at McDonald's or shop at Wal-Mart. They
take pride in the institutions that molded Cape Cod for so many years. Local
work and local business are elevated to a higher status than faceless
multinational corporations. The throwaway corporate culture found in many places
simply never took hold here, as residents of Cape Cod stuck to their community’s
foundations.
Even time and food are perceived differently. Here, those
looking for a slice of what once was can go clamming when the tide is low.
Beaches are seeded with clams, and for a modest price one can get a bucket to
fill with them. The time consuming yet meaningful experience of clamming is
honored for its regional flavor. One can easily buy supermarket clams anywhere,
but Cape Cod affords people the chance to draw local tradition into their
cooking. Instead of looking for the fastest, most efficient way to a goal,
there is a value placed on what has been done for hundreds of years. Raking the
sand and digging for clams might be the more laborious way to get clams, but it’s
also fulfilling to eat what you personally dug for. Clamming has a long history
here, and people make sure to respect this past while adapting it to today's
society by providing local consumers with a choice. Those who desire modern
efficiency go to the supermarket. Those who want to honor the New England
legacy hit the beach during low tide.
There's a beauty in experiencing an interlude from urbanism.
Cape Cod, filled with tourists from Boston and New York looking for a relaxing
destination, is an example of how we can preserve simpler times. We sometimes
need an anchor as society and its values change rapidly. There is a
certain joy in living out these Puritan and American values of old. The real
question for community leaders is how we can encourage the revival of a national
culture that values simplicity, tradition, and community. While probably not
through legislation, bringing back the values that Cape Cod still embodies will
take a concerted effort. Policymakers should once again view the family as the
integral unit of society, pursuing policies that do not reflect rugged
individualism so much as common duty and trust. We need to bring back the
egalitarian, democratic spirit of the town meeting. Contrary to the claims of
some politicians, we cannot simply evade modernity and globalization. There is
no shirking from the way we live today. Yes, it’s good to put down the phone or
laptop from time to time, but it’s impossible to hide from our responsibilities
and way of life. Instead, we must strive every day to incorporate the values
Cape Cod embodies-love of localism, of tradition, and of simplicity-into our
modern lives. Only then can we truly love the society we live in. Only then can
we build a more open, interdependent, and happy world.
