Backlash in the Burbs

There's a new movement that uses intelligent design to cure America's soulless subdivisions. Is it possible to make people the moving force in suburban life?

By Sarah Elizabeth Richards, published on September 01, 2005 - last reviewed on October 28, 2005

The time Heather Parker began hunting for a new house four years ago, she knew what she didn't want -- a lonely existence in a tract house somewhere in the sprawling suburbs. She ticked off neighborhood after neighborhood -- too boring, too isolated, too far from the store. With a year-old son and a husband who traveled several days a week, she knew she wanted something more than a neighborhood. She wanted a community.

Then she visited Ladera Ranch. The new Orange County development, nestled in the foothills of California's Saddleback Mountains, is sprinkled with inviting parks and pristine pools and woven together with broad sidewalks, benches, jogging trails, a main street with a flower shop and an ice cream parlor and the visible presence of plenty of people just like her -- young mothers with small kids. No sooner did her family move in when neighbors began stopping by to introduce themselves. Before long, her son was loaded up with play dates and swim classes, and she and her husband were awash in invitations to potlucks, barbecues, bunco games (a group game of chance based on the roll of dice) and block parties.

Parker, 35, had found a home. "This is different from what I grew up with," she says.

Ladera aims to repeal, with intelligent planning and design, the sprawl of suburbia, where, over the last few decades, individualism turned into isolation as most human needs were hitched to cars and commuting. Mixing homes, neighborhood shops and jobs, Ladera has set its houses close to the street and to each other, equipped them with front porches to encourage social interaction, and banished garages to the back. Such innovations attempt to make people the moving force in the life of a neighborhood. In its philosophy and geography—the development is organized into six distinct subdivisions, each complete with a town green and only one entrance and exit—Ladera embodies the New Urbanism, a movement in town planning that burst on the scene in the late 1980s and early 1990s.

Ladera embraces its mission with such intensity that residents joke that they are living on a stationary cruise ship. The community employs six salaried event planners who organize at least a dozen functions a year, from harvest festivals to holiday lighting celebrations to garage sales to movies in the park. Residents are also linked around the clock on their own intranet system, Ladera Life, where message boards, chat rooms and activity schedules are always accessible.

Still, says Peter Calthorpe, a Berkeley, California-based urban planner and a founder of the Congress for New Urbanism, "the most potent social factor is the fact that people can walk. They stroll the streets and have chance encounters. They meet in an ordinary way."

Evidence suggests that intelligently designed communities such as Ladera may jump-start community feelings and lay a new foundation for the kind of civic engagement that's critical to democracy. But whether even the smartest design can help satisfy the deep longing for social connection may be a case of architectural optimism that is ultimately outmatched by the centrifugal forces in American society.

Starting at nearly $1 million for a four-bedroom colonial, Ladera's prices are not cheap. So far, developers have finished 7,000 of the 8,100 single-family homes, townhouses and apartment units planned for the 4,000 acres of former ranchland. At the grand opening in 2000, more than 22,000 people showed up, and interested homebuyers have found themselves on a months-long waiting list.

Rachel, a stay-at-home mother of three, was drawn to Ladera for the "community warmth" along with the new schools and bright houses. Her arrival four years ago from an older development felt like freshman week in the dorms. She joined a bunco club. She went to Ladies Night Out once a month. She joined a morning walk group. She visits with other mothers when she drops off and picks up the kids at school. "There's always some kind of party every week. I like it because you can always say no."

Block Party To Go

Paul Johnson, senior vice president of community development for Rancho Mission Viejo, which started Ladera five years ago, says it's taken just two years to create a spirit of fellowship because Ladera's community services organization, LARCS, provides the structure, funding and staff to help residents get involved. Want to throw a block party but don't know how? LARCS provides an "event in a box," a packet of ideas, instructions and timelines that's more complete than most wedding planners. It's got a list of materials, sample sign-up sheets, invitations, RSVP forms, even thank-you notes. A kit for a "fun in a bun" hot dog party recommends holding the first of four planning meetings eight weeks in advance, choosing jalapenos and pepperoncini for the condiment bar and putting red-checked cloths on the tables.

A volunteer layer of organization has residents serving as block captains and committee chairs. Designated "Ranch Hands," they organize potlucks, block parties and the annual neighborhood holiday-decorating contest in which Ladera's villages compete with lights and luminarias. More than 75 resident-organized clubs are listed on Ladera Life, including "Mommy 'n Me" classes, book clubs and groups for computer junkies, animal lovers, scrapbookers and divorced mothers. "This is the Leisure World for thirtysomethings," joked Guy Hargreaves, 38, a flooring contractor, while sharing pizza and beer with his Ladera softball team at the community's Backstreet Brewery, a short walk from most homes. "I'm my own event planner," Hargreaves says of his regular Sunday football gatherings, barbecues and pool parties. "It can be good if you need this. You can do as much or as little as you want."