Finding our place in the world is a lifelong pursuit for many of us privileged enough to have a comparatively long life. Decisions must be made, benefits or consequences dealt with, lessons (hopefully) learned—and along the way our minds will change. Multiple times.
Interesting thing about change: Most people don’t like it. We like comfort food and our comfort zones, where the word “comfort” is essentially synonymous with “familiar.” But however familiar, one thing I’ve learned since relocating here in 2019—which simultaneously feels so long ago and no time at all—is that nothing physical will remain unchanged forever. Not ourselves, not our circles, not our surroundings.
I’m reminded of this while reading Artis Henderson’s “Fading Away” on page 30, looking back on the reinvention Southwest Florida has experienced in the last decade-plus; some of it by way of local evolution, some by way of Mother Nature.
As the area changes and grows, there are fewer and fewer places to find the Old Florida so many people speak of, so many people remember. It’s true that that’s been a common refrain for decades, as new residents move to the region and natives grumble that the result isn’t what it used to be. But the process seems both accelerated and more dramatic of late, with hurricanes wiping out the inherited geography of beach communities and major industries that once defined the area such as shrimping or citrus farming on the verge of disappearing completely. It would appear Old Florida is going through its own evolution, or perhaps extinction. Growth is generally a good thing from an economic perspective. But was it too much change too soon?
Change is a process, and building in the present depends on decisions made in the past, including those that seemed to make sense at the time but maybe aren’t panning out the way we thought. Southwest Florida is hungry for housing, especially affordable options, and high demand coupled with federal funding made building seem a sure bet. As 2024 wanes, however, several industry experts suggest that we may be entering a phase of supply outpacing demand, especially when it comes to apartment housing.
“The pandemic created a mad rush of new residents to Florida. This prompted many developers to start new projects in the Sunshine State, several unbeknownst to each other, all at the same time. Those are just opening or under construction now, right as that mad rush of new residents has subsided,” writes David Dorsey in his story titled “Appetite for Apartments” on page 40. More than 15,000 apartment units are newly built, under construction or in development across Southwest Florida. Were all those projects at once good ideas? Time will tell.
We make the future together, all of us, every day—deliberately and unintentionally, through choices big and small. I’m excited to see what the Florida of 2025, of 2030, of 2040 looks like … but I’m also happy to enjoy October of 2024 with this present community
