Post by blackcrowheart on Mar 26, 2007 19:41:21 GMT -5
Poverty and Wealth In America
Examining the contrasts in Taos, New Mexico
Darin Foster
The small town of Taos sits at the northern edge of a long river valley
that stretches north from Albuquerque, cutting through the high mountains
of northern New Mexico. The town is dominated by Taos Mountain and the even
more majestic Wheeler Peak, the highest point in the state. The Sangre de
Cristo and Jemez mountains circle the horizon. To the south and west of
town, the Rio Grande Gorge slices down 800 feet (244 meters) into the rocky
desert scrub. These waters, which have cut through the highlands for
millennia, continue south through the length of the state, before turning
abruptly east to form the border between the United States and Mexico.
Something in the geography of the place, or if you believe the words of the
local mystics, the call of the Mountain herself, seems to encourage
contrasts in Taos. These contrasts exist both in the natural world, and in
the human communities that have placed themselves in this isolated place.
Perhaps nowhere else in the United States do extreme affluence and abject
poverty exist in such close proximity, nor are the lessons of culture, race
and wealth so easy to read.
The true extend of poverty in the United States is one of the country's
many unacknowledged truths. Moving from state to state, the examples are
almost endless. The homeless fill the parks and public spaces of the
nation's capital, Washington, D.C. The Hispanic population on the east side
of Austin, Texas, home to Dell Computers and numerous other high tech
companies, often dwell in homes with dirt floors and plywood walls. Beggars
with hand-made cardboard signs reading "Please Help" stand at busy
intersections or sit along downtown sidewalks in almost every urban area.
Across the deep south, in the states that once formed the heart of the
Confederacy and are now the core of the "conservative" Republican Party,
communities of poor blacks continue to survive in dilapidated housing,
working where and how they can in order to just get by. In the wake of
Hurricane Katrina, the world had the opportunity to see the poverty and
neglect that typify these communities.
One Side of Taos
New Mexico, though, and particularly northern New Mexico, shows poverty on
an entirely different level. Per capita, the state itself is consistently
one of the three poorest in the United States, and Taos, with only 32,000
residents, is one of the poorest counties within the state. Estimates of
per capita income in Taos County range from $16,000 to $18,000. Almost 21
percent of the population, and almost 25 percent of those under 18, lives
below the already low federal poverty level. These rates are nearly double
the U.S. average, and sadly they are not the highest poverty rates in the
state. Federal census data shows other New Mexico counties with poverty
rates above 50 percent. Official unemployment stands at 5.8 percent, well
above the national average of 4.5 percent. Even this number appears low to
the locals, because federal statistics do not count those who have simply
dropped out of the traditional economy.
The tell-tale signs that so often accompany poverty can be seen in the
health profile of the county. Alcohol-related deaths account for 0.07
percent of all deaths in the county, as compared to a national average of
0.02 percent. Deaths from cirrhosis of the liver (often associated with
alcoholism) and diabetes were twice the national average. Births to single
mothers account for over 54 percent of all births in the county, while 20
percent of all babies are delivered by women, often girls, under the age of
19. The abuse of heroin, methamphetamine and marijuana are all too common.
Rio Arriba county, which sits immediately to the south of Taos, has the
highest rate of death by heroin overdose in the country.
The effects of poverty can also be seen in the field of education. While
the state appears to spend more than the U.S. average on its students,
these same students consistently rank at or near the very bottom of all
measures of educational performance. For example, only 20 percent of the
state's fourth graders can read at a "proficient" level, placing the state
in a tie for 48th place among the 50 U.S. states. In 2004-05, New Mexico
placed dead last in a survey of "smartest" states. In 2006, the state had
moved up slightly to number 43, but a recent report by Education Week
placed New Mexico 50th on a "Chance for Success" scale. This means that the
state is the worst in the nation at preparing its students for a meaningful
career, or in fact, any career at all.
The combined effects of poverty and a lingering rural village lifestyle can
be seen on every street in the town. Abandoned cars and refrigerators fill
yards and side-streets. Trash flutters in the high desert winds, to be
caught by tree branches and fenceposts. Outside the core of town, roads are
rarely paved, and trailers, mobile homes or even tents serve as housing.
Feral dogs roam the wilder neighborhoods. Entire sections of the county
appear to be broken, crumbling, or simply rusting away.
The Other Taos
Sitting side by side, and indeed often woven into the Taos of poverty and
decay is a Taos of art, culture, education and affluence. Depending on who
you ask, the old Taos began in either 1350 (the date of the founding of
Taos Pueblo, the oldest continually inhabited site in the United States) or
1598 (the year the first Spanish priests came into the area). In contrast,
the new "other" Taos began in 1898, when a wagon containing two artists
heading south to the thriving art community in Santa Fe broke a wheel
outside Taos. Captivated by the light, landscape and ethnic heritage of the
region, these two decided to stay on. They became the founders of the Taos
Society of Artists. In the early 20th century Taos attracted a steady
stream of artists, intellectuals, and other radicals. Russians fleeing the
1917 Revolution somehow found their way to Taos, as did the famous British
writer D.H. Lawrence.
The stream of newcomers continued through the decades, as artists,
photographers, beatniks, hippies, and almost anyone else dissatisfied with
the outside world made their way to the protected isolation of Taos. In the
late 1950s a ski resort was established in the high mountains to the north
of the town. Tourism, skiing and art became the lifelines of the community.
The 1960s saw the creation of a thriving hippie commune just outside the
town and brought the likes of Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda to the region.
With the explosion of "Santa Fe style" in art and architecture in the
1980s, outsiders descended on Northern New Mexico in flocks. Inevitably,
some of them stayed. Even those who did not stay permanently often
purchased a second "vacation home" in the area. Among those attracted to
Taos were the actress Julia Roberts, and the now former Secretary of
Defense, Donald Rumsfeld.
These newcomers brought with them a kind of fragile prosperity and high
culture. Local museums are filled with stunning work by local artists from
all the region's ethnic communities, including Russian modernists, American
realists, Southwest landscape painters, Hispanic folk artists, and Native
American sculptors. The Taos Center for the Arts brings traveling theater
groups to the area and presents an ongoing series of foreign and
independent movies. At last count, the town hosted almost a dozen
independent coffee shops, always a sign of alternative culture.
The town's numerous galleries are full of paintings and sculptures that
would cost the average Taos resident several years salary. Gourmet
restaurants dot the county, commanding the same prices for martinis,
champagne and Kobe beef as those found in New York City. The El Monte
Sagrado Resort, where nightly rates start at $350, dominates the quiet
wooded area east of the downtown plaza. El Monte prides itself on being the
most exclusive resort in the state, and of one of the top ranked luxury
hotels in the country. The town's small pedestrian shopping area hosts an
independent book store, two gourmet kitchen supply stores, a custom
tailored menswear shop, numerous women's boutiques, and a high-end custom
furniture retailer, where the centerpiece of the showroom is often a
$12,000 Spanish heritage dining table (chairs not included).
Away from the shops and restaurants, the most visible impact the newcomers
have had is in housing prices. In 1999, the median price for a home in Taos
County was $155,000, which already bordered on being completely
unaffordable for most of the county's residents. By 2002, the average price
had edged above $200,000. Conversations with local realtors in 2006 made it
clear that "nothing" could be found on the market for under $300,000. In
Angel Fire, another ski resort town 30 miles northeast of Taos,
half-million dollar custom homes are sprouting like mushrooms in the
isolated mountain forests. Closer to town, ambitious developers have
created a gated luxury community where recent selling prices topped $1.2
million.
The Consequences of Two Towns in One
The consequences of having these levels of wealth and poverty crammed
together are sometimes amusing. The locals laugh at the Texas ladies in
high heels and fur coats tip-toeing delicately through the rocks and mud.
And there is something satisfying in seeing one of the local mongrel horses
tied outside the grocery store next to a $50,000 Hummer.
Most of the time, though, there is nothing funny in the situation. The
disparities of wealth seen in Taos create serious problem in terms of
relations between the different ethnic communities and in terms of economic
development in the region.
Hispanics are the majority population in Taos, as they are throughout much
of the American Southwest. While some older Hispanic families still possess
great wealth in land, the community as a whole is typified by poverty and
low education levels.
In Taos County, the Native American population is also significant. The
county contains two native pueblos, sovereign areas under the control and
authority of their respective tribes. On average, the residents of the
pueblos are among the poorest residents of the state. Schools on the
pueblos, which are administered by the U.S. federal government, are
notoriously under-performing. Drugs and alcohol have long been problems for
tribes throughout the region. Both the Hispanic and the Native American
communities are heavily Catholic in religion, although a heavy does of
local tradition and folk religion are mixed into the catechism.
The newcomers, though, are almost exclusively white, or Anglos, a term
which appears to include everyone descended from non-Hispanic Europeans, as
well as Jews. The newcomer population also tends to be educated, older and
highly mobile. A surprising percentage come directly from New York City.
Others are scientists and engineers who have spent their careers at Los
Alamos National Laboratory, the United States' premier nuclear research
facility, which is located atop an isolated mountain 70 miles south of
town. The majority of the newcomers are either Protestant or followers of
various "alternative" religions.
The result of these differences is an almost colonial situation, where
(outside the galleries and fine restaurants) everyone working is
dark-skinned, and everyone being served is light-skinned. At times the
hostility between the races, particularly the Hispanics and Anglos, is
almost palpable. The Anglo population never speaks of it, while the
Hispanics appear often to use it as a pretext for every real or perceived
injustice. The statement "Well, he just hates Mexicans" can end any
argument and stands as an formidable obstacle in the path of building
understanding between the two groups.
That the wealthier members of the community tend to be older and mobile has
numerous consequences. First, they do not bring children, especially young
children, to the region. For that reason alone, they are not overly
concerned with the quality of schools and education. Second, many of them
have developed deep ties to a "home" outside of Taos, and the professional
class that supports them, including accountants, lawyers, and even doctors,
is generally located in that "home." This fact makes it difficult to
develop these professions inside the community, where they could benefit
both the old and the new Taos.
A mobile population is also largely uninterested in local politics. Whether
the issue is crime, or new roads, or illegal land condemnation, or the
election of a new county judge, the mobile wealthy remain unconcerned.
Mobility also translates into fragility for the local economy. If the
winter snows do not come, as they did not in the winter of 2005-06, then
the skiers and vacationers do not come. At the same time, local hostility
grows with every $300,000 condo that stands empty 11 months of the year,
while entire families cram themselves into trailer homes.
The Paralysis of Inequality
Thomas Jefferson once commented that the institution of slavery in America
was like having a wolf caught by the ears. Continuing to hold the wolf
seems impossible, but the consequences of letting go are unimaginable.
Situations of vast inequality in wealth and power inevitably create this
condition of paralysis. As a community, Taos and much of northern New
Mexico, is trapped in this situation. One simple example will suffice.
After skiing for a few years in the beauty of the New Mexico high country,
a skilled and talented Texas doctor considers moving her family to Taos.
Should she make the move? First, she would face a serious reduction in
salary. While her skills would be in demand, the poor population of the
county cannot afford to pay for their care, and except for emergency care,
the wealthy find their healthcare elsewhere. Second, assuming a typical
two-income professional family, she would most likely lose the income from
her spouse, because finding two professional jobs in such a small community
would be extremely difficult, even at reduced salaries. Third, comparable
housing, if it can be found at all, will be two or three times more
expensive than what she is used to in Texas (or most other states). Fourth,
if the family includes children, a range of bad choices face her: endure
abysmal schools filled with gangs and drugs, pay for private school, teach
the children at home, or break-up the family by having the children
educated outside the state.
The list could continue, but the outcome is clear. Under the conditions
that exist in Taos, a professional middle-class is unlikely to develop on
its own, and one is unlikely to move into the region, even when the need is
so abundantly clear. And without this class of people to tie the community
together, the long-term prospects for Taos, and thousands of other towns
across the country are bleak.
Along one path into the future, the mobile wealthy could easily abandon the
region, particularly if the snows continue to fail and prices continue to
sky-rocket. High prices could effect the moderately wealthy, specifically
the retired or semi-retired teachers, lawyers, and businessmen who find the
majestic beautify of Taos so comforting and who contribute so much to the
atmosphere of the town. If the wealthy flee, the ski resorts will suffer,
land prices will collapse, the restaurants and galleries will close-up, and
the entire economy of the region will fall into ruin.
Alternatively, if the wealthy continue to move to Taos, prices can be
expected to steadily rise, and money will reshape the face of the region.
Already high prices have begun to push members of the older community out
of Taos and into the smaller surrounding communities. This is the process
that reshaped the small Colorado towns of Aspen, Vail, and Beaver Creek
over the past 20 years. These towns have developed into ultra-exclusive
enclaves of affluence, almost totally detached from the communities that
surround them.
The situation in Taos clearly shows that wealth and development are not the
same thing. In the end, the absolute wealth of a country, or a town, may be
almost irrelevant. It is the distribution of that wealth, the spread
between the top and the bottom, and the existence of a functional,
integrated middle class, that reflects true development. The problem with
Taos is not that the poor are poor or that the rich are rich. The problem
is that no force, either governmental or private, exists to moderate the
excesses of the affluent or alleviate the worst depths of poverty.
The type of disparities in wealth seen in tiny Taos inhibit economic
growth, decrease democratic participation in government, exacerbate racial
and ethnic conflicts, and decrease the overall level of security for all
members of the community. In an ever shrinking global community, the lesson
of Taos is one that the United States, and the developed world in general,
need to learn before it is too late.
Examining the contrasts in Taos, New Mexico
Darin Foster
The small town of Taos sits at the northern edge of a long river valley
that stretches north from Albuquerque, cutting through the high mountains
of northern New Mexico. The town is dominated by Taos Mountain and the even
more majestic Wheeler Peak, the highest point in the state. The Sangre de
Cristo and Jemez mountains circle the horizon. To the south and west of
town, the Rio Grande Gorge slices down 800 feet (244 meters) into the rocky
desert scrub. These waters, which have cut through the highlands for
millennia, continue south through the length of the state, before turning
abruptly east to form the border between the United States and Mexico.
Something in the geography of the place, or if you believe the words of the
local mystics, the call of the Mountain herself, seems to encourage
contrasts in Taos. These contrasts exist both in the natural world, and in
the human communities that have placed themselves in this isolated place.
Perhaps nowhere else in the United States do extreme affluence and abject
poverty exist in such close proximity, nor are the lessons of culture, race
and wealth so easy to read.
The true extend of poverty in the United States is one of the country's
many unacknowledged truths. Moving from state to state, the examples are
almost endless. The homeless fill the parks and public spaces of the
nation's capital, Washington, D.C. The Hispanic population on the east side
of Austin, Texas, home to Dell Computers and numerous other high tech
companies, often dwell in homes with dirt floors and plywood walls. Beggars
with hand-made cardboard signs reading "Please Help" stand at busy
intersections or sit along downtown sidewalks in almost every urban area.
Across the deep south, in the states that once formed the heart of the
Confederacy and are now the core of the "conservative" Republican Party,
communities of poor blacks continue to survive in dilapidated housing,
working where and how they can in order to just get by. In the wake of
Hurricane Katrina, the world had the opportunity to see the poverty and
neglect that typify these communities.
One Side of Taos
New Mexico, though, and particularly northern New Mexico, shows poverty on
an entirely different level. Per capita, the state itself is consistently
one of the three poorest in the United States, and Taos, with only 32,000
residents, is one of the poorest counties within the state. Estimates of
per capita income in Taos County range from $16,000 to $18,000. Almost 21
percent of the population, and almost 25 percent of those under 18, lives
below the already low federal poverty level. These rates are nearly double
the U.S. average, and sadly they are not the highest poverty rates in the
state. Federal census data shows other New Mexico counties with poverty
rates above 50 percent. Official unemployment stands at 5.8 percent, well
above the national average of 4.5 percent. Even this number appears low to
the locals, because federal statistics do not count those who have simply
dropped out of the traditional economy.
The tell-tale signs that so often accompany poverty can be seen in the
health profile of the county. Alcohol-related deaths account for 0.07
percent of all deaths in the county, as compared to a national average of
0.02 percent. Deaths from cirrhosis of the liver (often associated with
alcoholism) and diabetes were twice the national average. Births to single
mothers account for over 54 percent of all births in the county, while 20
percent of all babies are delivered by women, often girls, under the age of
19. The abuse of heroin, methamphetamine and marijuana are all too common.
Rio Arriba county, which sits immediately to the south of Taos, has the
highest rate of death by heroin overdose in the country.
The effects of poverty can also be seen in the field of education. While
the state appears to spend more than the U.S. average on its students,
these same students consistently rank at or near the very bottom of all
measures of educational performance. For example, only 20 percent of the
state's fourth graders can read at a "proficient" level, placing the state
in a tie for 48th place among the 50 U.S. states. In 2004-05, New Mexico
placed dead last in a survey of "smartest" states. In 2006, the state had
moved up slightly to number 43, but a recent report by Education Week
placed New Mexico 50th on a "Chance for Success" scale. This means that the
state is the worst in the nation at preparing its students for a meaningful
career, or in fact, any career at all.
The combined effects of poverty and a lingering rural village lifestyle can
be seen on every street in the town. Abandoned cars and refrigerators fill
yards and side-streets. Trash flutters in the high desert winds, to be
caught by tree branches and fenceposts. Outside the core of town, roads are
rarely paved, and trailers, mobile homes or even tents serve as housing.
Feral dogs roam the wilder neighborhoods. Entire sections of the county
appear to be broken, crumbling, or simply rusting away.
The Other Taos
Sitting side by side, and indeed often woven into the Taos of poverty and
decay is a Taos of art, culture, education and affluence. Depending on who
you ask, the old Taos began in either 1350 (the date of the founding of
Taos Pueblo, the oldest continually inhabited site in the United States) or
1598 (the year the first Spanish priests came into the area). In contrast,
the new "other" Taos began in 1898, when a wagon containing two artists
heading south to the thriving art community in Santa Fe broke a wheel
outside Taos. Captivated by the light, landscape and ethnic heritage of the
region, these two decided to stay on. They became the founders of the Taos
Society of Artists. In the early 20th century Taos attracted a steady
stream of artists, intellectuals, and other radicals. Russians fleeing the
1917 Revolution somehow found their way to Taos, as did the famous British
writer D.H. Lawrence.
The stream of newcomers continued through the decades, as artists,
photographers, beatniks, hippies, and almost anyone else dissatisfied with
the outside world made their way to the protected isolation of Taos. In the
late 1950s a ski resort was established in the high mountains to the north
of the town. Tourism, skiing and art became the lifelines of the community.
The 1960s saw the creation of a thriving hippie commune just outside the
town and brought the likes of Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda to the region.
With the explosion of "Santa Fe style" in art and architecture in the
1980s, outsiders descended on Northern New Mexico in flocks. Inevitably,
some of them stayed. Even those who did not stay permanently often
purchased a second "vacation home" in the area. Among those attracted to
Taos were the actress Julia Roberts, and the now former Secretary of
Defense, Donald Rumsfeld.
These newcomers brought with them a kind of fragile prosperity and high
culture. Local museums are filled with stunning work by local artists from
all the region's ethnic communities, including Russian modernists, American
realists, Southwest landscape painters, Hispanic folk artists, and Native
American sculptors. The Taos Center for the Arts brings traveling theater
groups to the area and presents an ongoing series of foreign and
independent movies. At last count, the town hosted almost a dozen
independent coffee shops, always a sign of alternative culture.
The town's numerous galleries are full of paintings and sculptures that
would cost the average Taos resident several years salary. Gourmet
restaurants dot the county, commanding the same prices for martinis,
champagne and Kobe beef as those found in New York City. The El Monte
Sagrado Resort, where nightly rates start at $350, dominates the quiet
wooded area east of the downtown plaza. El Monte prides itself on being the
most exclusive resort in the state, and of one of the top ranked luxury
hotels in the country. The town's small pedestrian shopping area hosts an
independent book store, two gourmet kitchen supply stores, a custom
tailored menswear shop, numerous women's boutiques, and a high-end custom
furniture retailer, where the centerpiece of the showroom is often a
$12,000 Spanish heritage dining table (chairs not included).
Away from the shops and restaurants, the most visible impact the newcomers
have had is in housing prices. In 1999, the median price for a home in Taos
County was $155,000, which already bordered on being completely
unaffordable for most of the county's residents. By 2002, the average price
had edged above $200,000. Conversations with local realtors in 2006 made it
clear that "nothing" could be found on the market for under $300,000. In
Angel Fire, another ski resort town 30 miles northeast of Taos,
half-million dollar custom homes are sprouting like mushrooms in the
isolated mountain forests. Closer to town, ambitious developers have
created a gated luxury community where recent selling prices topped $1.2
million.
The Consequences of Two Towns in One
The consequences of having these levels of wealth and poverty crammed
together are sometimes amusing. The locals laugh at the Texas ladies in
high heels and fur coats tip-toeing delicately through the rocks and mud.
And there is something satisfying in seeing one of the local mongrel horses
tied outside the grocery store next to a $50,000 Hummer.
Most of the time, though, there is nothing funny in the situation. The
disparities of wealth seen in Taos create serious problem in terms of
relations between the different ethnic communities and in terms of economic
development in the region.
Hispanics are the majority population in Taos, as they are throughout much
of the American Southwest. While some older Hispanic families still possess
great wealth in land, the community as a whole is typified by poverty and
low education levels.
In Taos County, the Native American population is also significant. The
county contains two native pueblos, sovereign areas under the control and
authority of their respective tribes. On average, the residents of the
pueblos are among the poorest residents of the state. Schools on the
pueblos, which are administered by the U.S. federal government, are
notoriously under-performing. Drugs and alcohol have long been problems for
tribes throughout the region. Both the Hispanic and the Native American
communities are heavily Catholic in religion, although a heavy does of
local tradition and folk religion are mixed into the catechism.
The newcomers, though, are almost exclusively white, or Anglos, a term
which appears to include everyone descended from non-Hispanic Europeans, as
well as Jews. The newcomer population also tends to be educated, older and
highly mobile. A surprising percentage come directly from New York City.
Others are scientists and engineers who have spent their careers at Los
Alamos National Laboratory, the United States' premier nuclear research
facility, which is located atop an isolated mountain 70 miles south of
town. The majority of the newcomers are either Protestant or followers of
various "alternative" religions.
The result of these differences is an almost colonial situation, where
(outside the galleries and fine restaurants) everyone working is
dark-skinned, and everyone being served is light-skinned. At times the
hostility between the races, particularly the Hispanics and Anglos, is
almost palpable. The Anglo population never speaks of it, while the
Hispanics appear often to use it as a pretext for every real or perceived
injustice. The statement "Well, he just hates Mexicans" can end any
argument and stands as an formidable obstacle in the path of building
understanding between the two groups.
That the wealthier members of the community tend to be older and mobile has
numerous consequences. First, they do not bring children, especially young
children, to the region. For that reason alone, they are not overly
concerned with the quality of schools and education. Second, many of them
have developed deep ties to a "home" outside of Taos, and the professional
class that supports them, including accountants, lawyers, and even doctors,
is generally located in that "home." This fact makes it difficult to
develop these professions inside the community, where they could benefit
both the old and the new Taos.
A mobile population is also largely uninterested in local politics. Whether
the issue is crime, or new roads, or illegal land condemnation, or the
election of a new county judge, the mobile wealthy remain unconcerned.
Mobility also translates into fragility for the local economy. If the
winter snows do not come, as they did not in the winter of 2005-06, then
the skiers and vacationers do not come. At the same time, local hostility
grows with every $300,000 condo that stands empty 11 months of the year,
while entire families cram themselves into trailer homes.
The Paralysis of Inequality
Thomas Jefferson once commented that the institution of slavery in America
was like having a wolf caught by the ears. Continuing to hold the wolf
seems impossible, but the consequences of letting go are unimaginable.
Situations of vast inequality in wealth and power inevitably create this
condition of paralysis. As a community, Taos and much of northern New
Mexico, is trapped in this situation. One simple example will suffice.
After skiing for a few years in the beauty of the New Mexico high country,
a skilled and talented Texas doctor considers moving her family to Taos.
Should she make the move? First, she would face a serious reduction in
salary. While her skills would be in demand, the poor population of the
county cannot afford to pay for their care, and except for emergency care,
the wealthy find their healthcare elsewhere. Second, assuming a typical
two-income professional family, she would most likely lose the income from
her spouse, because finding two professional jobs in such a small community
would be extremely difficult, even at reduced salaries. Third, comparable
housing, if it can be found at all, will be two or three times more
expensive than what she is used to in Texas (or most other states). Fourth,
if the family includes children, a range of bad choices face her: endure
abysmal schools filled with gangs and drugs, pay for private school, teach
the children at home, or break-up the family by having the children
educated outside the state.
The list could continue, but the outcome is clear. Under the conditions
that exist in Taos, a professional middle-class is unlikely to develop on
its own, and one is unlikely to move into the region, even when the need is
so abundantly clear. And without this class of people to tie the community
together, the long-term prospects for Taos, and thousands of other towns
across the country are bleak.
Along one path into the future, the mobile wealthy could easily abandon the
region, particularly if the snows continue to fail and prices continue to
sky-rocket. High prices could effect the moderately wealthy, specifically
the retired or semi-retired teachers, lawyers, and businessmen who find the
majestic beautify of Taos so comforting and who contribute so much to the
atmosphere of the town. If the wealthy flee, the ski resorts will suffer,
land prices will collapse, the restaurants and galleries will close-up, and
the entire economy of the region will fall into ruin.
Alternatively, if the wealthy continue to move to Taos, prices can be
expected to steadily rise, and money will reshape the face of the region.
Already high prices have begun to push members of the older community out
of Taos and into the smaller surrounding communities. This is the process
that reshaped the small Colorado towns of Aspen, Vail, and Beaver Creek
over the past 20 years. These towns have developed into ultra-exclusive
enclaves of affluence, almost totally detached from the communities that
surround them.
The situation in Taos clearly shows that wealth and development are not the
same thing. In the end, the absolute wealth of a country, or a town, may be
almost irrelevant. It is the distribution of that wealth, the spread
between the top and the bottom, and the existence of a functional,
integrated middle class, that reflects true development. The problem with
Taos is not that the poor are poor or that the rich are rich. The problem
is that no force, either governmental or private, exists to moderate the
excesses of the affluent or alleviate the worst depths of poverty.
The type of disparities in wealth seen in tiny Taos inhibit economic
growth, decrease democratic participation in government, exacerbate racial
and ethnic conflicts, and decrease the overall level of security for all
members of the community. In an ever shrinking global community, the lesson
of Taos is one that the United States, and the developed world in general,
need to learn before it is too late.