The "Trad" Movement and the Power of Nostalgia

Sometimes I'm stunned by how different life is now than it was two generations ago. And not always in a good way.

I follow a local Facebook group here in Cleveland. Every city has one of these, and sometimes they can get weird, like any Facebook group. But I have a special affection for the one called “Cleveland Streets — Then and Now.”

The page is run by some old-timers, who remember the city when it was closer to its heyday. Maybe they grew up in the 60s or 70s. There is truly so much rich local knowledge in this group.

One thing I learned from reading it is every street (I guess practically) used to close down every summer for a block party. It’s hard to believe there was a time, not that long ago in Cleveland, where neighborhood communities were that strong, that friendly.

I know one street that does that now but it’s rare. I’m jealous, frankly. That kind of low-stakes, casual in-person socializing, is so important for social capital. I believe — like the writer Seth Kaplan talks about — that is the secret sauce to good neighborhoods.

Anyway, here is a post Cleveland Streets Then and Now shared recently that caught my attention:

I’m having trouble relating to my political tribe, at least the Very Online ones, who are furiously dunking on “trad” wives or “trad” accounts. And I get it on some level. I think it’s weird, the accounts that spend all day saying “modern architecture is the root of the rot in our society” or something and “women shouldn’t be allowed to vote” or whatever.

But here’s the thing that’s SUPER annoying about right now and the political climate: it doesn’t have to be all one way or another. There are things about the past that are worth preserving. Things about the present that deserve thought and scrutiny.

That scene in Cleveland’s Little Italy it gives me a touch of jealousy and awe, at the kinds of communities our parents and grandparents grew up in. And I realize, these were not perfect places. I have watched too many Netflix documentaries about abuse and predation and mental illness (I like true crime and dark topics) to have an illusions that these were perfect or ideal communities or families.

Still, there is a sense of loss people feel that is perfectly natural. To have that kind of social support for your big day, a wedding. How could you top that?

One thing that I’m jealous of about past generations is how much more “people-y” for lack of a better word, their worlds seemed to be. Now we might work alone all day, staring at a computer screen.

By contrast, my parents are both from large catholic families. And they grew up in (sorta) ethnic neighborhoods in Toledo, often very near legions of cousins, aunts and extended family. But in just one generation that changed entirely. I grew up with one sibling, in a city more than 100 miles away from any extended family.

I’m not complaining, my upbringing was happy and my parents are great. But what a change. My dad has photos of his parents, grandparents sitting around tables, 10 or 12 of them, sharing meals and bottles of wine. Apparently they drank just loads of wine, unhealthy levels, which I know is bad but also sounds pretty fun tbh. (Dinner parties like that, we never do that. It’s just too hard with both parents working. The whole idea of “fine china” that was important then, just doesn’t translate.)

My dad has five brothers and sisters (my mom had four siblings, three of whom are still living). And when I spend time with him, they are constantly calling each other. They’re talking on the phone all the time. Those sibling bonds lasting a lifetime. What a benefit it is for my dad to have so many brothers and sisters, I sometimes think.

My generation is allergic to talking on the phone. In a typical day, I never have a phone conversation. So many of my friends aren’t having children at all anymore — which honestly to each his own, I see the appeal even though I love having kids (imagine the money and leisure time!)

Of course, there are many things that are better about now. I’m not a trad account don’t worry that is going to insist those times were better necessarily. But I understand the ache of nostalgia a little bit, especially right now. The word “nostalgia,” I read: “comes from two Greek words: ‘nostos,’ which means ‘homecoming,’ and ‘algos,’ which means ‘pain’ or ‘ache.’ So, nostalgia literally means ‘the pain of returning home.’”

The way we’ve become so isolated. Not just isolated, lonely, but also divided culturally, spiritually. We spend so much time alone now.

To be surrounded by family and friends all the time like that, obviously it could be bad. There was all kinds of abuse. Bad feelings.

At the same time, I’m not 100 percent sure we’ve traded up. What do we have now that can replace those kinds of social bonds? (Facebook? Groan! Barf! I’d trade it in a heartbeat for boozy dinners.)

My neighborhood that I live in right now, is very tight knit, weirdly so I would say. In part, that comes from sort of the difficulty of living in modern Cleveland. Neighbors have sort of had to band together to resolve challenges. I also think there are just some very special, talented people who helped establish that precedent.

It feels, honestly, a little old fashioned (for lack of a better word) sometimes. I like that about it. It’s never going to be the same way it was in some books I’ve read recently, for example about mid-century life in (catholic) Chicago. Where there were 5, 6, 7 children in every house and they were running the streets and sidewalks all day, and parents were having these wild parties in their basements. But I’m a little bit sad about it tbh. It sounds kinda legendary to me.