“They live in The Landing, and just love their neighbors. I really wish I lived in a neighborhood like that.”
The person I was speaking with was describing a family who lived in a cul-de-sac housing tract in a nearby suburb.
“That’s not a neighborhood,” I replied.
I’m not going to go into the Webster definition of a neighborhood, but I am going to go out on a limb and say that when the word became a part of popular culture, it didn’t refer to a place where every trip to school, work, the grocery store, the gift shop, a restaurant or bar needed to be made by a massive 4-wheeled vehicle. It didn’t refer to a place where spontaneous encounters with people who you don’t know were completely built out of the land use design. It didn’t refer to a place of racial and financial exclusivity.
By my definition, neighborhoods are amazing places where people live AND visit. They are places where we walk, bike, take public transit, and yes, live. They have a myriad of walkable options for basic needs such as groceries, restaurants, laundromats, entertainment, public meeting spaces, and more.

Let’s look at the South Wedge in Rochester, New York. Just south of downtown, this true “neighborhood” houses the following within a half mile:
- The Abundance Co-Op grocery store
- South Wedge Mission, where people from all walks of life can receive care and food
- Little Button Craft, Marilla’s Mindful Supplies, Hedonist Chocolate, Hippocampus Books, and AXOM for your mindful retail, local, sustainable gift options.
- A laundromat
- Multiple salon options
- Tru Yoga
- Cheshire, Martine, Angelina’s, Lux, Poke Sushi, Old Stone Tavern, and other tremendous food and drink options.

And that’s just scratching the surface. More options are available in nearby Swillburg and even downtown Rochester, just a stones throw north. Blended in with these options is a dense and thriving residential scene. The total package means that one can step outside their home and walk to dozens of locations that fill a variety of different needs and desires. It is a life complete, and independent of the need for a car. It’s not perfect by any stretch, but “The Wedge” is a solid example of an urban neighborhood.

When I was very young, I would visit my father in Chicago’s Lincoln Park neighborhood (before it became financially unapproachable). I clearly remember stopping at Mohamed’s on the corner of Halstead and Wrightwood for groceries. I remember loving the swings in the neighborhood pocket park. I remember walking to the “El” (Chicago’s elevated train), to the bank, to Las Fuentes, and a number of Mexican restaurants that were popular in the area. I remember my father seeing people on the street. Some were his neighbors, some were strangers. Some looked, walked and talked like him, but many did not. He paid them all the same respect. There were so many spontaneously social dimensions to every trip we made, even if it was just to walk to the Post Office. Not having to climb into a car meant that every day, we were a part of the community tapestry, and a shared space where everyone learned to get along.
This is the very vibe that housing tracts like the one mentioned in the opening paragraph look to squelch. This form of “neighborhood” design seeks to abolish the spontaneous and diverse sense of community in favor of an insular, homogenized way of life where tolerance, personal growth, and a sense of togetherness is negated and discouraged. It is self-affirming instead of challenging, exclusive instead of accepting, and since every trip must be made by car, it is unsustainable instead of environmentally friendly. If one has the means, this is likely the easier way to live.
In fairness, for those who raise a family and want safety and good schools, making the choice to live in a traditional city neighborhood can be expensive and logistically difficult. In city neighborhoods that have these amenities, housing can be outrageously expensive, simply because there are so few options, a product of supply and demand. Cities have been forced to cater almost exclusively to younger, single people or childless couples, leaving limited options for affordable and convenient family housing options. But this is also in part the result of racially motivated housing practices, shortsighted zoning, and attitudes that decimated our American cities during the 20th century.
True neighborhoods are thriving centers where people can live and still access key resources without having to drive. They bring us closer together because they create opportunities for us to spontaneously connect. They foster a more tolerant and inclusive social contract that challenges us all to feel like a part of a greater whole, connected to our fellow citizens from all walks of life. Sadly, so much of our country has built this out of our reality. But slowly, we are beginning to build it back into the fabric of our American society.
***I am an urbanist influencer and do not have a formal degree in urban planning. While I am deeply passionate about urban design, trends, issues and topics, I believe in this time of undisciplined media to be honest and transparent regarding my lack of any kind of formal journalism or urban planning education. I still believe in my ability to present my viewpoints on interesting topics, but I fully admit that I have not been trained in the higher-educational rigors of expertise on such perspectives. My goal is to challenge people to think differently, not to be the the cited source of unquestionable truth. This footer will now accompany every Urban Phoenix piece, and I am proud to offer this transparency in a time when opinion is often coveted over rigorously-tested fact.***
