Georges Teyssot
Teyssot focuses on lawns and fences and the implications both have in American society. The idea of boundary is perhaps the most important topic in this chapter. The boundary between the home and the lawn, between your space and your neighbor’s space, between lawn and nature, between what is private and what is public, and so on.
I agreed with several things about these boundaries. One important point is that the lawn is just an extension of the home—a sort of out door room. I equate it with having clean room but a non-made bed. Without the bed, it does not matter how organized the rest of the room is. (Personally, I adopt the “don’t organize anything” approach.) Recently, specifically last summer, I began to undertake the rejuvenation of my father’s house and lawn. Both of these projects progressed in tandem, because—as Teyssot suggests—the lawn is just another part of my home in my mind. However, in terms of how Teyssot says that a lawn is a way to integrate into society, I must disagree. The most telling evidence for my feelings comes from our discussion yesterday. One of the reasons that many of us were hesitant to live in a suburb in the future was what Allie described. Suburbs are often regulated by strict rules, but these would not be a problem if the only desired effect of having a lawn were integration into the norm. Of course, most do not plan to have an extravagant and crazy yard, but I think most people strongly want to have the option to do to their yard what they wish to.
As I said above, I consider the yard almost as a part of the house. While it certainly has a nature feeling to it, I would not consider it Nature. It is sort of a middle ground—like orange is to red and yellow.
The division of public and private space is something that is always interesting to me. One demonstration of how firmly ingrained these rules are in just me is found in a game my friends and I would play in our hometown and surrounding roads. (This game may be widespread, forgive me if I refer to it as specific to my region.) It takes place at night is called Fugitive, and basically, one team is cops and the other is fugitives. The goal of the fugitive is to get to a predesignated point in the town without being caught by the cop team, and they can only use the roads and the outsides of people’s yards. While playing this, you often end up hiding behind a bush or tree, or even car, in someone’s yard, and every time there is an uncomfortable feeling of violating a strangers space. Even if I am only two or three feet into a yard, that feeling persists. I think the lawn has evolved into a space where you need to be invited in order to feel comfortable.
Three Questions
- Are lawns, contrary to popular portrayal, hostile instead of welcoming?
- How well do you think people would accept lawn alternatives to grass, such as clover or moss?
- Are parks and public spaces in urban areas enough to replace what is lost by the removal of the lawn, if there is anything lost?