The Most Underrated Form of Wealth in America
On the abundance we don’t measure, and the kind of place that makes it possible.
I live in a 1,800 SF house with my wife and two young kids in a walkable neighborhood a stone’s throw from downtown OKC. Last month, some of my best friends — my sister and her family — moved here too. They live in a 2,800 SF house.
My parents couldn’t resist being closer to the kids (and grandkids). They just bought a spacious condo in a six-unit building. I was surprised they went condo — we’re originally from Texas after all — but they were tired of the maintenance on their home, and single-story living was a priority to them.
For the first time since junior high, at 37 years old, my whole family lives in the same neighborhood. Just with our own space.
I see my sister while walking to the office. My mom stops by the house for short visits. We grab Friday night dinners at the neighborhood taco shop. I work out with my brother-in-law at lunch. We see each other, even if just for 30 seconds, multiple times throughout the week.
If you think holidays with family are stressful, this is, in fact, the opposite. When people don’t see each other often, and they’re forced together for several days, that’s not life together. It’s something else. And after the proverbial “catch-up,” what else is there to talk about besides the weather and whatever’s in the news?
The thing about seeing people regularly, in smaller doses, is that you actually get to experience life together. You see each other while doing life, not just at some planned gathering.
Do you remember what happened last week? I don’t either. This is why regular, small doses are far better for building connection and relationship than fewer, more extended time together. Even if it’s the same amount of overall time in a given year.
My relationship with my brother-in-law got profoundly deeper, more meaningful, and more fun when we started baking ourselves in a sauna together each Friday night (they lived 10 minutes away until moving here). Seeing each other weekly, we could actually talk about what was going on in our lives in that moment. What was stressful, what was exciting, what we were working on or struggling with. It’s amazing how long a week actually is. A lot happens, and it’s the cadence of how life unfolds. You process the week and then move on to the next. Two weeks ago might as well be six months ago.
We built a real relationship, something that hadn’t really happened in my first 16+ years of knowing each other, in just 30 to 60 minutes a week. I’m looking forward to seeing what even more small touches throughout the week can do.
But none of this is normal. Wheeler District, where we live, is the only neighborhood in the entire Oklahoma City metro where all of us can live. What neighborhood has a mix of 1,800 SF–2,800 SF homes and condo units? Let alone office buildings, lunch spots, and a neighborhood pub?
I didn’t even mention some of my business partners who live in a 1,300 SF home and a 600 SF loft — who I also get to see regularly, among various other neighbors, friends, and acquaintances.
This is what I want for America. This is what we are fighting for at Building Culture.
There are many ways to measure abundance. GDP is one. And we have a lot of that. But there is also abundance in relationships, connection, beauty, and the quality of your everyday life. And in those regards, we as Americans are impoverished. Starving, even.
But the incredible thing about America is that we have more agency than anywhere else in the world to change our own trajectory and build the country we want. We actually can shape the future.
When it comes to the built environment, the past hundred years are a sad chapter in our history. But it’s also fixable. And the best place to start is pretty simple: start building the future we want.
Our mission at Building Culture is to shift the trajectory of the built environment in the US. It starts locally, here in Oklahoma City, to show what is possible. But it doesn’t stop there. Our next step is to raise a fund and begin seeding neighborhood-scale developers across the country to transform their own backyard.
Real estate isn’t software. It doesn’t scale that way. Building Culture can’t rebuild America alone. But we can facilitate it. Create the structures, the know-how, the network, the asset class, and the model that does scale.
Let’s build a world where families and friends can live near each other again, in real community and relationship. That’s the future I want.