Housing values

I dwell in Possibility,
A fairer house than Prose.
     Emily Dickinson

This has been the first "stay-at-home" weekend I've had for a month or more. And it's been both relaxing and productive. Our house sits on one of Minnesota's 15,000 lakes and its screened-in deck provides a lovely view. Middle Jefferson's not the best lake in the state by any measure - shallow, mud-bottomed, and weedy until early July. But it is quiet and a refuge for pelicans, muskrats, ducks, leaping fish, herons, turtles, egrets, and the occasional eagle. The sunsets are glorious. Could be worse.

What got me thinking about the house was a story on public radio yesterday about how the "net worth" of so many Americans is completely tied up in their houses. And how the uncertainty in home values (your house is worth nothing if you can't sell it) is causing great unease among lots of people.

And here I naively thought we bought homes for the quality of life they provide, not simply as a financial investment tool. As a nest rather than a nest egg. Were I to sell this house at a loss, I believe I still would come out ahead considering the wonderful events it's hosted - holiday meals for the masses, fishing and boating with the grandsons, graduation parties, quiet evenings with friends, and even summer department meetings. It's a congenial place that's value lies less in land, paint and shingles than in memories and pleasant hours spent.

I was recently asked if I knew the monetary value of a school library. Such a number is not that hard to calculate - add up building costs per square foot and the cost of resources, furniture and equipment. I'm sure such numbers have importance to some people, but I have a tough time seeing any program that nurtures a love of reading, problem-solving and learning in purely dollars-and-cents terms.

Perhaps I am just getting sentimental in my old age. But I feel sorry for those who only see worth when dollars are involved when it comes to either homes or schools.

Comments

[Janice Robertson]

As always - great post. When my mom sold her house, I was shaken by the memories that I felt were being lost knowing the house was transferring into other hands.
I had a similar feeling when I left my school library of several years to open a new school library. I felt like the program and specifically my running of the program, was what made the library so valuable. I was convinced that no one could use the resources and make it the same. (And I was right, but what emerged wasn't any less valuable - it was just different.)
The problem is ... how do you measure joy, enthusiasm, excitement, passion, curiosity, or any of the other emotions created by visits to the library? How do you document those moments? I don't think you're sentimental at all, but the big problem is that unless the people who make the decisions get to be a part of the "workings" of the library, or get to see the human responses to time spent in the library, they won't appreciate the real value. What if that decision maker didn't have a great library in their past, and has no idea of what a well run library can offer?!?!
I know that the people who bought my mom's house won't ever appreciate the delight from eight pre-teen girls who all decided the coolest place to snuggle down during a sleepover was underneath the pool table or the squeals of terror caused by my brother jumping out of the hidden closet under the stairs and scaring the life out of whoever was on the stairs.
Recently, I had the nicest thing happen; my library was packed - I had two full classes using the space plus three pull out groups working in pockets with a couple support teachers. A girl who had finished her work in a classroom came into the library to ask if she could read. I said that she was more than welcome, but that we were quite crowded, and it was a bit noisy. She said, "That's okay. I'd still like to stay here to read. There's always such a good vibe here. It's a great place to be."
She has NO idea how sweet those words were to my ears because she delivered them as if she was just stating a fact like, "Oh, it's hot in here." I however, will treasure them.
In the words of Einstein, "Not everything that counts can be measured. Not everything that can be measured counts."
The solution is to try to share the magic, and make sure that the people responsible for making decisions about libraries get to visit yours while it's in full action.

[Paul C]

Housing, school values...I think it comes done to the value of daily life. If I ever receive bad news from my doctor about a terminal illness, I hope I don't regret as much about what I will miss in the future as what I may have missed in my daily life when I have golden opportunities.

[Janet]

First:

I sure as heck hope you have a kayak!

Second:

Where we live you can't separate the monetary value from the home-y-ness, and it hurts the schools.
We live in an area with NO commercial tax base, and ever increasing property taxes. People who see in their homes what you describe so eloquently, consistently vote no because they cannot afford to do anything else. This year I lost my clerk.
Next year I could easily have 2 school libraries to "not manage." (Because my priority is instruction, and the school board must think the books magically appear on the shelves and in the teachers' classrooms when they need them.)

It's a question of balance (to quote the Moody Blues) And we don't seem to have it. Sighhhh.

Janet

[walt crawford]

Good post.

My own take on the "investment value" of a home--not necessarily the same thing as a house--has been, for a long time:

If you buy a house to make it a home, and succeed in that effort, it's automatically a good investment--and, if or when you sell it, you may be pleasantly surprised.

If you buy a house primarily as an investment, you're shortchanging the emotional return--and it may turn out to be a crappy fiscal investment. That's even more true if you treat it as a piggy bank.

That's how it worked for us. (But we're awful as "investors"--we wanted our house to be both home and *our* home, so we paid it off rapidly, which means our percentage return when we did sell it wasn't nearly as good as if we'd stayed debt-laden. Our return on emotional investment has been more than satisfactory, though. As it will be in our new house--which, after two weeks, is starting to be home.)

[Gwen Martin]

You are the librarians ' Garrison Keillor.

[Doug Johnson]

Hi Janice,

Thanks so much for the thoughtful response. I love the Einstein quote - there are somethings that have value that simply cannot be measured. Too bad more educators can't admit that.

All the best,

Doug

Hi Paul,

I remember reading somewhere that most of us have far more regrets about what we did not do rather than what we have done. Which seems sort of sad.

I get the news about being terminal the first thing I am doing is going out and buying a carton of cigarettes!

Doug

Hi Janet,

We have a canoe and a pontoon boat.

Property taxes do indeed tend to be regressive and it sounds like a lot of people, especially those who are on a fixed income suffer when values (and taxes) rise. And our local government services, including schools, are increasingly relying on property taxes. Not sure what to do about this since nobody seems to want to raise either income or sales taxes either!

And you are right about balance.

Thanks for the comment,

Doug

Hi Walt,

Thanks. Hope your new "investment" returns many happy moments!

Doug

Hi Gwen,

That's very high praise that I only wish I deserved!

Thanks,

Doug