I’ve lived in Albemarle County, Virginia, for over forty years. Albemarle is a mostly rural county in the Piedmont region. It surrounds the city of Charlottesville.
For decades, the county valued its open spaces and created many policies to ensure their protection. Recently, leadership has taken a pro-development turn, jeopardizing citizens’ quality of life and many of our community’s natural features.
In the 1990s and 2000s,
Rutherford County is located in the central Tennessee farm belt. Its county seat, Murfreesboro, is precisely in the state’s geographic center, and it briefly served as Tennessee’s capital. But, because of greater commerce and superior roads, the legislature chose Nashville as the seat of power only a few years after statehood was granted in 1796. Decades later, Murfreesboro became a grim center of the Civil War. It was the site of the Battle of Stones River—a pivotal Union victory bought at the cost of immense casualties.
Like many coastal communities, the county of New Hanover, North Carolina, is rich in habitat diversity. Its coastal plain is dominated by estuaries, marshes, and swamp forests and is considered a global biodiversity hotspot. The county is home to a number of threatened and endangered species, with mounting human pressures of a growing population and economy.
The county’s growth has accelerated over the past twenty years.
”Economic growth” is commonplace in the daily news. We assume it’s a good thing, that a 2–4 percent increase in GDP is beneficial to all. Likewise, we hear that our communities are growing, and we see a 2–4 percent increase in population as reasonable and benign. Meanwhile, visionary community leaders are busy planning for a steady feed of single-digit annual growth. So we’re in good hands, right?
But what the news reports miss is that any steady rate of growth is an exponential function that contains within it a knowable doubling time.
Think about the county where you live. Picture your favorite streets, event spaces, scenery, or terrain. If you’ve lived there awhile, chances are you know what makes it great: the natural, cultural, and commercial places whose characteristics make your community special to you and your neighbors.
Your connection to them becomes part of your sense of place. You delight in taking visiting family and friends to these special sites and you lament changes that threaten or despoil them.