I had this politics professor who used to say that all great American literature is at heart about reverence for the past and contempt for the present — that things were getting worse. It’s a complicated statement, but I think it’s about a feeling of watching things grow and change and maybe not fully liking where they end up. How we slowly take over the mantle of responsibility as we come into adulthood and then as we age, we witness it being taken over by the next generation, all the while lamenting that it was once better.
It’s easy to fall into that sort of thinking about our fair shining city by the sea. Things used to be cheaper, easier, more eclectic. There were more starving artists and funky shops and restaurants. It was a city for everyone, not just the rich. It’s a common refrain amongst the liberal city success stories. Listen to LCD Soundsystem’s 2007 song “New York, I Love You But You’re Getting Me Down” for reference.
One of the reasons SMRR (Santa Monica for Renter’s Rights) came into being was that early on, they could see that the city was changing, and the values they held were under threat from gentrification, as Santa Monica’s location and amenities were increasingly more valuable. SMRR also represented the youth usurping the throne from the long reigning chamber of commerce—the hippies coming into their early adulthood, and enacting a city they believed could be created.
The years have passed, and the hippies became the elders. The Santa Monica they envisioned has in some ways arrived and in others been lost to the successes and failures of time. For those original SMRR folks, who are mostly baby boomers, who have headed our politics for so many years, going forward may feel outside of their comfort zone:
‘Santa Monica, I Love You But You’re Getting Me Down.’
In the last election I decided to run for school board because I saw real problems with our school system, that I believed stemmed from a school board that was out of touch and ineffective. I lost, but in the process, I learned a lot, and that process is what brought me to this column.
When I decided to run, I reached out to a former mayor who had been a big part of my childhood, and whom I revered highly. We spoke about why I was running and they asked me who was helping me. When I told them, they said, “Those are dangerous people.”
That sentiment stuck with me. “Dangerous” to who, exactly? Later, I was on Main Street at the Roctober Fest and they happened to be there. They turned and caught my eye, clearly surprised, they blurted, “Hi, Miles” and then kept walking. I loudly called after them, but they kept walking, refusing to speak with me. I was stunned. Heartbroken. Betrayed.
As I’ve thought about those moments and this person that I held in the highest of regard, I’ve come to the conclusion that in their mind I became one of the “dangerous” people.
When someone is “dangerous” you don’t engage them. You don’t listen to what they’re saying. You keep walking. It is a way of invalidating and demonizing them. It is in many ways the opposite of liberalism and progressivism. It comes inherently from a place of fear. Fear of what though?
There is a kind of paternalism and sanctimoniousness from the boomers who run the political committees and organizations that shape our city. Leaders in the school board, SMRR and The Dem Club seem to react to criticism with a sentiment of ‘you must be against us, if you disagree or find fault with anything we say ’— you must be dangerous.
This fragility to critique reflects narcissism, but the ‘dangerous’ sentiment ultimately has to do with a desire to keep the good that they’ve built, but to somehow magically bring back the good they’ve lost too. These boomer leaders and their cohort want to make Santa Monica Great Again, and for them that means a return to relatively cheap apartments that allowed artists and bohemians to roam our streets in creative flourishes and for retail leases that were approachable to funky shops and out-there restaurants.
To be clear I miss that Santa Monica too — I miss a less corporate, clean cut and let’s be honest, boring city. But giving credence to those that brought us here, can go along with critiquing them, and wanting to make things better. It’s not dangerous. We can disagree and still be friends. We can take a look at our mistakes and own them without forfeiting our whole vision. And the boomers can let go of the reigns without it being a danger to everything they created.
Miles Warner is a Santa Monica parent and resident.