When a fence is more than a fence

Someone in my hometown, a leafy, liberal New Jersey suburb, put up a fence. It's a nice fence: Americana white pickets that curve gently, rising from two feet high to a little more than four feet where they meet the solid fenceposts. It stands at the property lines of a beautiful Victorian-style house. I went to a zoning board meeting to have it removed.

My problem was not the fence itself. It was the symbolic communication of the fence. Several years ago, my town required in its zoning ordinance that front-yard fences be no more than two feet high and placed no closer to the street than the building setback line. (The setback line is the marker that tells you how close your building can be to the street or your neighbors' property.) The purpose was also symbolic: to let residents and visitors know that the town is safe and welcoming. Fences send a different message: This is my property. Stay away.

Another reason: The fence was built illegally. The property owner's representative said his client was given permission by the local building official to put up the fence, but offered no proof. If the zoning board allowed the property owner to keep the fence, the board would implicitly be sending the message that it's better in our town to beg forgiveness than to ask permission. Obsessing over rules and regulations may be unwise and unhealthy -- except to lawyers -- but sometimes you risk compounding a mistake by letting it go.
In his application to the zoning board, the applicant said that the fence was for safety and privacy. But this didn't make much sense. Neighbors said there were never any problems with intruders walking on the property. (A two-foot fence is not going to deter anyone anyway.) The fence has large gaps where you would expect gates to be, as well as gaps between fence posts and trees on the property. So it seems that the fence is meant to say: This is my property. Stay away.

After objections to the fence by several neighbors, the zoning board denied the applicant's request.

This story is not really about a fence. It is about the strength of objects in our built environment to be symbols. Symbols are physical objects (like fences) or conceptual objects (like logos) that convey information about the values, beliefs, customs, etc. of a place or organization.

Symbols are powerful because they give us a shorthand way of processing information about complex systems. We use symbolic communication every day in our gestures and rituals, and often convey symbolic stature on the objects in our offices and communities.

Imagine that your office is ordering new chairs. Everyone gets the same type of chair, except for the office director. Now the chairs aren't just furniture. They're symbols of the difference in status between the office director and everyone else.

Of all the land use disciplines, urban design and place marketing are most focused on symbolic communication. Too many people make the mistake of thinking that streetscaping, historic preservation and other urban design issues are just "decoration" and luxuries. These people tend to think that market forces will ensure quality design, or that no one should be told "what to do" with their property. This is an expensive mistake. People would rather go and live where they can make sense of place; in other words, where the symbols provide clearer communication.

Of course, urban design can be used as a tool for excluding people or trying to control social behavior.  That is why in an increasingly diverse world, we have to be more mindful of the symbols, and the people who determine the rules about them, in our communities.  Take a look at your community's historic preservation, zoning, and design review boards.  How much diversity do you see there?

So there has to be a balance between the community's desire to provide some sense of order and individuals' desires to express themselves and feel they have a stake in the community. In this case, the fence sent a message that was wholly inconsistent with the community's intended messages of openness and friendliness. That's why no matter how nice the fence was, it was in the wrong place for the wrong reasons. If you find yourself on an architectural review board that is deciding what colors should be allowed on residential properties, please do more than look at what colors you like. Think about who likes those colors and what they symbolize about the community.

   

--Leonardo Vazquez, AICP/PP

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