If there was ever a Happy Days era in Santa Fe, it could have been floating around 1979.
To hear from those who lived here during that time, the city was in a good location.
Not too big. Not too small. Tourists came to town but weren’t ubiquitous or oppressive. It was the ’70s so there were drugs and maybe gangs and the occasional guns, but they weren’t written on anyone’s face and certainly not as deadly as America has come to know.
The city’s only public high school was big, bigger than big, but it appeared to be extremely successful, at least in the marquee: the soccer team won a state title; Debate kids and band kids and bookworms were some of the best in the state; Seniors jumped off the stage at graduation and moved everywhere from Harvard to Highlands.
Santa Fe wasn’t a Mayberry. But it was very nice. Most of the time I think it was young. Young at heart. Jung by order.
There has to be an advantage of choice for this type of reality. I’m surprised that Santa Fe politicians never consistently exploited memories of 79 and run, run, run.
But now that I think about it, maybe everything that was old is new again.
Case in point: Tuesday morning last week.
Groundbreaking for public projects are usually pro forma events – staged and over-the-top, for both the party planners and the people who occupy the gleaming buildings they celebrate. But beneath the ceremonial protective helmets, you could almost see the light in the minds of almost all Santa Fe executives as they stirred up dust in the Zona del Sol for a new $ 10 million youth center in the south of the city.
This youth thing. Yes, that’s the ticket.
The November city elections could have things like destroying the Plaza Obelisk or an audit or who has a record or doesn’t really have anything substantial to say, but I’ll bet on the next election and the next but one can focus on the politician who find a way to improve a child’s quality of life.
Look, everyone knows there are limits to what a government can influence, and many of them stop at the doorstep of a single residence. But the only thing it can offer are tools – possibilities. And to this end, the city and county governments must, in the long term, use their money to build a new generation of facilities for children.
Because, let’s be honest, the secret of a youth center in the south isn’t how difficult it was to build, but rather it took so long to get there.
When Santa Fe designs things like this, they are generally top notch. The Genoveva Chavez Community Center? It’s hard to find something like this in New Mexico and many other states. Parks? We can argue about how well they are cared for or how difficult they are to keep green, but it cannot be said that they are not used or valued. They are.
In a complaint-oriented city, such treasures will inevitably lead to controversy. But they also have advantages – the best part is that they bind young people to the place where they grew up.
It’s not a theory. Ask the class of ’77 or the class of ’79 or the class of ’84 – the people from Santa Fe’s so-called good old days. This year residents hit their eardrums with stories of hanging out by a shiny, then brand new, bicentennial pool. To walk through the gates of the spectacular Ivan Head Stadium (a facility of the Santa Fe Public Schools) for the first time.
It’s people like Alderman Chris Rivera – St. Mike’s, ’84 – a thoughtful guy who represents the area where the youth center will be built.
At the groundbreaking on Tuesday we talked about old and new days; about how children react when they are in prime places and busy.
“I think it’s really important,” said Rivera. “This is how you raise children and raise them. If invested in the community at a young age, they stay – chances are they will stay. And I think that’s what we’re ultimately looking for: people who grow up here, who decide to stay and work here and raise their families here. “
Eventually, these facilities will become a headache for bean counters and planners. Like all of us, they age. Once a kid magnet, Bicentennial Pool has had tough times lately, reviving a discussion about where and when the next pool complex might be built and who it might serve. This could be the next opportunity for the smart politician who can raise money from heads of state and city voters and convince both of them that such an investment – every few years, not just once in a decade – is in their best interests.
It doesn’t have to be a pool. It could be another youth center. It could be a library. It could be more soccer and baseball fields. Whatever, as the class of ’22 might say.
The point is, if you build it, they can stay.
Phill Casaus is the editor of The New Mexican.
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