ABOUT MARTHA'S VINEYARD
(AND OUR RELATIONSHIP TO IT)

The Island
The beginning of "Looking at the Vineyard", published by the Open Land Foundation in 1972, says: "Martha's Vineyard is an island of intriguing diversity, and there lies much of its fascination. Its geologic and human history, its weather and location combine to create many regions quite distinct from one another." From the endless Atlantic beaches of the south shore, to the network of "great ponds", the hilly uplands of the North shore, the sandplains to the east, the heathlands of Aquinnah, and the rural woodlands and fields of the interiors, the Vineyard is a wonderful mosaic of sky, shore, and dense vegetation.

For years the Vineyard has attracted a collection of inhabitants and visitors as diverse as its landscape. For many of us at SMC, the Vineyard was just a stop along the way that grabbed us, held us, and here we are. Together, the Vineyard and neighboring island Cuttyhunk make up Dukes County. Approximately 15,000 people live here year-round; in the summer this can swell to over 100,000.

To the beach

There are two weekly newspapers, two radio stations, and two cable TV stations. Islands have distinct boundaries; this makes it easy to communicate and easy to develop a sense of limits. The island is made up of six towns, three "down island" (east) and three "up-island" (west). Each has different character and qualities.

Edgartown is the picturesque old whaling town, full of old captains' houses and carefully ordered streetscapes, and the seat of county government. Oak Bluffs was originally known as "Cottage City", and its combination of Victorian architecture and honky-tonk make for a lively atmosphere. Vineyard Haven is the solid working town - the boat comes in here, the harbor is active, and it's the center of commerce, the town that stays most open year round. Moving west, West Tisbury occupies the center of the island and is both the "agricultural heartland" and "the Athens of the Vineyard." Chilmark has some of the islands' most beautiful beaches and expensive real estate and is anchored by the beautiful old fishing village of Menemsha. And at the far western tip lies the tiny, isolated town of Aquinnah, home of the Wampanoag Tribe and the multi-colored Gay Head cliffs.

In the year 2000, when we did our Future Sketch retreat (a two day retreat to create an outline of a future we'd like to see, and to decide what commitments we as a company might make to achieve such a future), one of the brainstorms was entitled "What did you love about the Vineyard when you first arrived (most people) or when you were growing up here as a child (some people)?" There were many responses. The Vineyard is easy to love.

Development Pressures
In these electronic times we are less and less bound by geography. Because of this, we long to live in nice places. Beautiful places. And many of us can. Therefore all those places are under pressure. The Vineyard is not exempt.

Far as the eye can see

Thirty years ago some Martha's Vineyard residents saw the writing on the wall. They saw it when they visited their neighbors across the water on Cape Cod, a formerly sleepy seashore area run amok. The Cape had become a dissonant percussive clash of spectacular nature, beautiful old towns, haphazard un-planned subdivision, and out-of-control strip development. The images were graphic. Vineyard people thought: that's us if we don't do something. So they took the bull by the horns and did something. And they did it wrong.

We don't say this to be critical. These people were on the side of the angels. But if you speak to them now, they'll say that they had the right idea, did the wrong thing, and the results were dismal. We are surrounded by those results.

Hindsight conveniently allows us the luxury of identifying what was done wrong. We disregarded the established patterns of the very communities we wished to preserve. This has been repeated in regions across the country. When development pressures begin we create zoning that only allows large lot subdivisions (parcels that are, as Randall Arendt says, "Too small to grow and too large to mow") and that shoves commercial development into strip ghettoes. Most zoning limits what we can do and establishes what we don't want instead of recognizing the strengths of our communities and prescribing what we do want. The zoning of the 70's and 80's substitutes saying no to development for saying yes to design. And design is the key.

To paraphrase James Cramer in his wonderful little book, "Design Plus Enterprise", "Design is not an option - if you define design as the act of shaping our surroundings to accommodate our needs, design is a strategy, an instinct, a need.

Chilmark lace wall

We're not surrounded by the absence of design, but by its nemesis - bad design." Tuscany, whole neighborhoods of Stockholm, the villages of the Cotswolds, dozens of New England town centers, and, on our own island - the village of Menemsha, the town of Edgartown, the Methodist campground in Oak Bluffs, Music Street in West Tisbury - all are dense with positive feelings. Each is a place that splendidly accommodates human needs. Each enriches what it is to be alive. We go to these places - or live in them if we're lucky - and feel what we feel because of the love that we're born with for the beautiful and the good. Humans can be a part of landscapes without overwhelming. In Tuscany every part of the landscape has been impacted by thousands of years of civilization. It's a landscape that is hardly wild. And yet it feels like there is a sense of partnership between humans and nature.

People yearn today to live in real human settlements that remind us where we are. In New England, we have established suburban development patterns rather than the rural village patterns that prevailed for hundreds of years. We look around us and we're displeased with what we've done. It makes us gun shy. We think we've crossed some magical line and fouled our nest. We get hesitant about doing anything - we worry about creating new models because we're afraid we'll screw up again. But there is no magic line. Things can change. And they do.

Things change in ways that we can't even conceive. And it's not only the spiraling out-of-control, dizzying change fueled by so-called "progress". Sometimes things can cycle back to a previous state. And it can happen quickly. The town of Chilmark is a good example. One hundred some odd years ago there were 3000 people living in Chilmark, eight brick factories, and not a tree in sight from one end of town to the other (the voracious appetites of both sheep and brick kilns had overcome them). Now there is less than a fifth of the population, there is no industry, and the town is 90% wooded. It's an entirely different landscape - a living example that landscapes change.

Is it possible to make restorative communities that understand and respect traditional patterns? And is it possible to do it without continuing our habit of fouling our own nest? There are many positive signs on the Vineyard. For years we've done a fine job preserving open space. The several conservation organizations have been active and have been well supported by seasonal residents. The Land Bank, founded in 1986 added tremendously to these efforts; creating scores of new public beach accesses, trail systems, and forever-wild lands. Our social service providers and civic and cultural organizations - hospital, MV Community Services, schools, libraries, art, theater, historic preservationists - have also been supported well by the community. But there's a third critical aspect to the preservation of community: decent affordable housing for all. Our housing crisis has reached serious proportions. But as our community began to deteriorate and it began to look like there would be nobody left to run our businesses, to patrol our streets, to teach our children, and to chat with on the porch at Alley's store, the community took the bull by the horns.

In the last five years there's been a remarkable change in both the perception of the problem and the variety of solutions being pursued. This is a problem that has grabbed hold of the hearts and minds of much of the Vineyard community - not only housing activists but business people, politicians, conservationists, year round residents and seasonal residents.

The Vineyard and SMC
The Vineyard is, above all, a diverse collection of communities - of people, of flora and fauna, of landscapes. The longer we're here, the better we know it, and the more there is to know. That sense has convinced us that we should concentrate our work here. There have been many opportunities to work off the island. We've tried a few, but we find that this is the place where we can work best - the place where we live, the place where we raise our children, the community we invest in.

Restored 30's beach camp

As a company, we feel there are many ways we can contribute to the community that has sustained us so well. We designate 10% of our profits for contributions to charitable organizations - mostly local. Many of us serve on town and regional boards and, as a company, we express ourselves about important local issues. We hire locally as much as we can and we create good jobs that help families to have good lives. And we devote ourselves, in many ways, to helping to solve the affordable housing crisis.

In addition to our affordable housing design and building we have taken a public leadership role in affordable housing. We are deeply involved in the organization of the business, year round, and seasonal communities to support affordable housing efforts.

Our commitment to concentrate our work here includes a commitment to do what we can to make this the best place possible for our children and grandchildren. It's a tall order, but this community is brimful of passion and intelligence. The Vineyard is well known as a playground for celebrities and a center of wealth, but it is less well known as a diverse multicultural community full of rich social connections and people with many needs. Its rural roots and agriculture, the Wampanoag Tribe, the growing Brazilian culture, the thriving artistic community, the dying fishing industry - all need our support to sustain the beauty and diversity of our island home.