Weird City: Sense of Place and Creative Resistence in Austin, Texas

by Joshua Long

An examination of Austin’s rapid economic and creative growth and local attitudes toward the Texas capitol’s transformation as an urban center.    Austin, Texas, at the beginning of the twenty-first century, is experiencing one of the most dynamic periods in its history. Wedged between homogenizing growth and a long tradition of rebellious nonconformity, many Austinites feel that they are amid a battle for the city’s soul. From this struggle, a movement has emerged as a form of resistance to the rapid urban transformation brought about in recent “Keep Austin Weird” originated in 2000 as a grassroots expression of place attachment and anti-commercialization. Its popularity has led to its use as a rallying cry for local business, as a rhetorical tool by city governance, and now as the unofficial civic motto for a city experiencing rapid growth and transformation. By using “Keep Austin Weird” as a central focus, Joshua Long explores the links between sense of place, consumption patterns, sustainable development, and urban politics in Austin. Research on this phenomenon considers the strong influence of the “Creative Class” thesis on Smart Growth strategies, gentrification, income inequality, and social polarization made popular by the works of Richard Florida. This study is highly applicable to several emerging “Creative Cities,” but holds special significance for the city considered the greatest creative success story, Austin.

Genres: Nonfiction

222 pages, Kindle Edition

First published May 1, 2010

Reviews

[Aaron Arnold · Rating 3 out of 5]

The worst person in the world is the Houstonian who moved to Austin one year ago complaining about the Californian who moved here one month ago. Austinites, no matter our origin prior to arriving at what it is indisputably the greatest city in the world, love having strong opinions about our city almost even more than actually living here. This is a good look at those opinions, which are firmly held even, or especially, when they make no sense at all. Though its origin as a grad school thesis burdens it with a lot of dull conceptual maundering over the "sense of place" in the subtitle, the majority of the book is devoted to attempts at identifying what makes us distinct as a city, case studies over development battles, and, best of all, interviews with a variety of citizens of our fair metropolis.

As the saying goes, "I wasn't born here but I got here as fast as I could". My parents moved to Austin when I was less than a year old, and aside from having gone to university elsewhere I've spent my whole life here. So in theory I could play that tedious game of "things were perfect right before you showed up to ruin it" with the best of them, conjure up a long list of things from my childhood that aren't around anymore, and prove that Austin is doomed because someone else thought my city was a nice place to live their own life. Except that I don't agree - even the most jaded, die-hard 60s survivor has to admit that the food has never been better, the live shows have never been more plentiful, and there are more new bars to visit and festivals to attend than humanly possible.

But what about the weirdness, man? Well, the famous "Keep Austin Weird" slogan is an almost too-perfect marker of the city's attitudes towards itself. As Long's interviews reveal, it is, variously:

- a proud symbol of defiance towards outsiders seeking to corrupt the True Austin Spirit
- an anti-corporate motto instantly trademarked and marketed by a corporation
- a try-hard desperation attempt to preserve something already lost and gone
- an emblem of local pride immediately copied by jealous, lesser cities far away
- a misguided quest to save something that doesn't need saving at all
- an adolescent attempt to live in the past and avoid "growing up" into a "real city"

Or, really, all of the above all at once. That completely contradictory, mutually exclusive jumble of arguments sums up the Austin attitude more than anything else. Your opinion about our city doesn't have to make sense, you just have to have one. I love that Austin has a distinct character to it, it makes our city so much more alive than the bland facelessness of the other big Texas cities or the dismal backwater spirit of the rest of the state. But are we losing our edge? Is all this growth ruining us? My answer is no, but we could very easily, and I will dissent from the majority of my fellow citizens by saying that the surest way to ruin Austin is to attempt to freeze time and stop people from contributing their energies to the city. Nothing kills weirdness faster than stagnation.

Long presents several short case studies of contentious development projects: Maria's, the Northcross Wal-Mart, and the Mean-Eyed Cat. He could have added many more examples, since the script is usually fairly similar for each new development. Each case study involves a protracted struggle to develop a moribund or otherwise utilized space into something that would actually be useful to someone, fiercely resisted by local busybodies who would prefer that their own personal approval be required before any future change. Everyone gets really worked up, developers offer random concessions, then the project goes forward and everyone forgets that things were ever any different (a great historical example would have been the Triangle at Lamar and Guadalupe; a good current example is the Riverside/Lamar Taco Cabana condo proposal). Weirdness apparently has a short memory.

What's most frustrating about this is not that citizens are getting involved in the character of their town, but that these fights are so often pointlessly and falsely oppositional. Everyone, no matter how weird you are, has to live somewhere, and it doesn't seem like the typical angry guy currently protesting new housing construction has ever stopped to think about what would have happened if the city had successfully fought off his own housing construction back in the day. Each new layer of complicated zoning overlays and all-powerful neighborhood associations slowly but surely guarantees that the people who lucked into moving here in the 70s have a leg up over arrivals from the 80s, who in turn live in nicer places than the 90s transplants, who can definitely afford more than 00s newcomers. Potential 10s homeowners? Don't make me laugh. Weirdness for me but not for thee.

There are a few too many doofus phrases like "social praxis" or sentences like "the space of a social order is hidden in the order of space" to make this book as readable as it could be, and even though Richard Florida's work on creativity and economic growth is valuable, I would have appreciated some more cultural analysis of Austin specifically. What about pronunciation, our shibboleths of Burnet, Koenig, Guadalupe, and Manchaca? What about a deeper look at the demographic impact that the state government and the university have had on Austin's population, or the general demographic shifts that have taken place more recently? How does the concept of "weirdness" play in the city's east side? All the same, Long's interviews are welcome reminders that apart from the irreplaceable natural gems, Austin's best resource is its people. Luckily we're getting more every day.

[Laura Roberts · Rating 4 out of 5]

Describing the weirdness of Austin, past and present, and the wheres and whyfores of how the city came to unofficially adopt the motto "Keep Austin Weird." Very insightful, and a must-read for anyone who's been wondering what exactly makes Austin so weird.

[Lauren · Rating 3 out of 5]

An account of the reactions of Austenites to the growth, development, and gentrification in Austin. There were some interesting anecdotes (I liked learning about Las Manitas, the 'dillo, Treaty Oak) but even seven years after publication, I feel like most of the content was nothing different than what you hear talking to people about their opinion of Austin today.

[Rolf · Rating 4 out of 5]

A interesting ethnographic study of the “Keep Austin Weird” movement, the anti-growth push by folks in the early 2000s worried that continued growth would take away from the city’s character.

It’s a bit depressing to read in 2023 as someone who came of age in Austin in the 90s, because yep, all the things they were worried would happen did happen.

[Marshall · Rating 4 out of 5]

I can't imagine this being of much interest to someone who hasn't lived here for at least a few years--this certainly isn't a visitor's guide.

You will find interesting interviews with the folks who run The Mean-Eyed Cat and Bouldin Creek Coffeehouse (people I know in real life) and insight into the local politics and ordinances these and other small businesses have to contend with to stay true to their visions.

[Laurel · Rating 3 out of 5]

A good overview of how Austin's tried to preserve its weirdness, and some discussion of what it is exactly that we don't want to lose. Clearly a dissertation --> book thing, but entertainingly written with lots of interviews with "Old Austin" people. (One caveat: UT Press, time to step up your proofreading.)

[Timothy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Essential reading for Austin residents; academic geography written on a non-academic level. It is a bit thin and repetitive, so I'd probably downgrade it to three stars for those without a vested interest in the subject.

[Matt · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fantastic for those looking for a trip back through some defining Austin moments, and potential glimpses into the future. Definitely academic styled, so that could be a hurdle for some readers (just read more and get over yourselves), but well worth it in all respects.