A Magical Neighborhood, and Who Gets to Live There
This is a screenshot from google maps that shows one of my favorite streets in Woodstock.
Today I canvassed in the little neighborhood behind downtown Woodstock, and I think it might be one of my favorite places I’ve ever seen.
I’m kind of an architecture nerd. I literally dream about houses, and I’ll even talk to people about these dreams, which usually makes them look at me like I’m weird. But I can’t help it—I love design. And this neighborhood’s design feels just right.
It’s relatively new, but it’s built to feel like it grew up over time. The houses aren’t all cookie-cutter; they’re different styles. The builders kept big, old trees when they developed it — or they chose some fast-growing trees that just LOOK a lot older than they really are. Regardless, the landscaping is gorgeous. And then there are all these little alleys and courtyards tucked between the homes—mossy spots with fire pits, little hideaways just for the people who live there. It feels like a magical wonderland.
But here’s what I keep coming back to: who actually gets to live in places like this? What about the people in Woodstock working two or three jobs just to make rent? What about the families who don’t think they’ll ever be able to buy here, or who can’t see how they’d afford to raise kids here? What about the folks spending half their day in traffic trying to get to and from work?
When I was knocking doors, someone asked me the question that always comes up: What’s the difference between you and Mayor Caldwell? Why should I vote for you?
Here’s how I see it. I don’t begrudge Michael Caldwell for having things work out. He married his high school sweetheart. He’s got four beautiful kids. He’s built a career, made money, and done well for himself—and done well for the community too. But sometimes when life has lined up for you, it’s hard to really understand how to serve people who are just trying to hang on.
I know what it’s like to work a ton of jobs to keep the lights on. I know what it’s like to struggle to fit in, to keep a job, to find your place. And I know we can do better. We can shape growth so it doesn’t just serve the people who already have it all together—we can make life easier for the people who don’t.
That’s why I’m running. To raise the tide in Woodstock so that all boats are lifted—not just the biggest, prettiest, most expensive ones.
