Is San Diego Still America's Finest City?

I love San Diego. I feel so fortunate to have grown up here, to know the local spots better than the tourist traps, to be friends with some of the old trees. I know where to get the best taco in every neighborhood. Last week I ran into someone I hadn't seen in 15 years, and we knew each other instantly. It was great to catch up. It's nice to know, and be known, in this community.

The last two years have been bananas, and in some ways I feel like I'm finally starting to catch my breath. As I reflect on my experience, and am faced with some new realities, I thought to update my bio on our company website.

Other than another kid and a change of neighborhood, what I wrote in 2020 still rings true -- and it struck me to read again how deeply I feel about my city.

In part:

To borrow the words of Wendell Berry, I’m a “placed” person... I love being rooted in this city, its neighborhoods, and my history within them. As the kid of an enlisted Marine who grew up with family far away, I am thrilled that my kids can grow up with family close by, and that the landscape and community in San Diego are a deep part of our heritage.

I’d like to see more native San Diegans educated, equipped and empowered to stay local. I’d like to see less of my friends and family move away because of issues of affordability (transportation, housing costs, and other opportunity gaps). One of the most exciting things I get to work on is just this: how to increase opportunity for locals, and help businesses hire homegrown talent!

Reflecting on what I wrote 2 years ago after starting a new role with the San Diego Workforce Partnership, I'm proud of the work we've done. We've helped thousands of individuals and businesses navigate big challenges and changes related to how people work.

And though my sentiments about San Diego are still strong -- my dreams are not coming true.

This month I say goodbye to some really important people in my life. Last week, we saw off two dear friends who, after 10 years of marriage, want to have a baby. Wages in the music, arts and service industries just aren't keeping pace with rent, and it's economically impossible for them to be a family of 3 here.

Next month, in what can only be the worst timing ever -- both my sister and my parents are moving out of San Diego within a week of each other. Sis & fam are heading up to Washington State, and my mom & dad will be packing 3 decades of their lives into an 8 x 10 x 10 container that's headed for Pennsylvania.

I haven't been able to stomach the task of telling my daughter that not only are her cousins (and closest friends) moving away, but her grandparents are too. This is not an easy pill to swallow.

And still, I love San Diego.

Sure, it's the weather, the beaches, the friendly So-Cal community vibe. For me, it's also the awesome startup scene and culture of innovation, and what happened when that met the craft cocktail movement. I graduated high school here, got married here, started a business here. I know the parks, the coffee shops, the cracks in the pavement. My kids are kissed by San Diego sunshine.

But more than the memories unique to me, San Diego is awesome. We're kind of a big deal --- one of the biggest counties in America, with a thriving economy, tons of opportunity (in a sense), arguably the best climate in the world, and people just love to be here -- whether working, traveling, playing, or staying.

But good luck finding a place to rent. The average 2-bedroom apartment is $3,500, and that jumps to $5k+ for 3 bedrooms. Last month, half of the homes sold in San Diego were for $1M or more. Looking to buy? So is everyone else, and investors snap up the majority with hefty cash offers well above asking price. What does that leave for residents? For workers fighting for a bit of ownership of their own neighborhoods?

I'm worried about our collective future -- for those of us born, bred, and rooted here in San Diego. Where is our opportunity when costs outpace wages? We advocate for quality jobs, higher pay, and career opportunities, fighting for locals to have a future. But that fight is hard, and right now, feels like 1 step forward, 3 steps back. If progress is so challenging, even for us with middle-class privilege, what of our neighbors who lack the same access? And the reality is that even if you get to that great wage --- it's not keeping up with rising rents and cost of living.

Sure there are solutions, there are plenty of calls to action I could end with. I'm going to keep working, and fighting this good fight. But sometimes I jump too quickly to the positive, seeking solutions, or at minimum engaging the stoicism that's productive in times like these.

Today, I'm allowing myself to mourn the exodus, and the richness that's leaving our city with it.