Diversity in EG, Even the Dogs Can Read

Submitted by Lisa Sussman.

RANT: A friend of mine was recently talking about moving to East Greenwich.

“I'd really like to move because I like the way your kids can go to the library and all the stores on Main Street on their own, and the school system is amazing with so much to offer the kids academically, and there are so many clubs, and the town is really pretty with the Bay so close, there’s the waterfront and that pretty park — is it called Oystershell? — and so many great restaurants, but (breath) I just don’t think I can move to a town full of rich people, you know?”

No, actually I don’t know.

I am not going to address the fact that those rich people (a status I aspire to just for the outdoor kitchens) are partially responsible for that amazing school system with so much to offer because of the high taxes they pay, the great restaurants - someone has to order the chocolate Martinis to keep the menus affordable - and many of the other amenities in our pretty town.

Anyone can access the numbers on that from the Rhode Island Department of Labor and Training (http://www.dlt.ri.gov/lmi/census/inc/towninc.htm).

Instead, I want to dispel a myth I come up against all of the time - in applying for the Cultural Organization of the Arts grants at RISCA, in negotiating artists fees for programs at the school and library, in simply talking to other people and feeling like I have to justify or excuse my address immediately.

East Greenwich is actually a diverse population. We have old family farms, McMansions, houses with one, two, three, four and five bedrooms, 500-sq.-ft. homes and 6,000-sq.-ft. homes, '60s suburbans and converted barns, swamp Yankee residences, trailer parks, assisted-living and nursing homes and low-income and HUD homes, and coops and condos all nestling comfortably against each other.

Anyway, if we were such a safe middle American bedroom community, would the police be jonesing for a second police officer's presence at our schools? If we were so full of ladies who shop til they drop - or at least, lunch, would we have six consignment (which is really a euphemism for second-hand) shops just on Main Street and another nine in the entire town?

If we were just about amuse-bouches and fine dining, would we have at least four diners, a few who are open only 6 a.m. to 2 p.m. because they cater the population whose working hours are not 9 a.m.-5 p.m.?

I am not going to deny that we have our share of $4.50 coffees, but we also have $1.50 cups of Joe. Yes, we have $2 million plus dollar homes for sale; but we also have $40,000 residences on the market. A raw juice bar did recently open up on Main Street - but there is also Norm’s, and if I were to place money on which is going to survive in the long-term, my money is on the latter (sorry, it is not my intention to wish any new business anything but to have a Vulcan long life and prosper).

Wealthy towns have fancy gourmet food stores (several have failed in the time I have lived here), chichi art venues (Summer’s End and the Odeum are struggling and our community theater group left town because of lack of support) and bagel stores. OK,  I have no research to back that last one up but my own observations, but the round bread with the hole in it does seem to be a requisite of living the high life - although since most high income people I know (and yes, I am generalizing again) seem to be on a low-carb diet, I am not sure how the bagel stores - and the low-carbers - survive.  So now you know.

RAVE: Back to that amazing school system. The one my son is about to enter - and yes, he is actually excited about high school. Go figure. Anyway, not only are we a town where the children are above average - even our pets can comprehend the written word: [See photo of dog sign].

Now that’s a highly literate population. No wonder the missing Puffles is worth a $2,000 reward!

Disclaimer: before I get outraged comments from pet owners, I am apologizing in advance to the owners of incredibly adorable Puffles (whose name suits perfectly) as I still sometimes get a tug in my heart for Fluffy, my cat who went astray 48 years ago. I know that a lost pet is a devastating experience and I hope Puffles and his/her family are soon reunited. [See lost dog photo.]