Is Indianapolis still lame?

Monument Circle. Photo: author

As the national media turns its attention to Indianapolis in the run-up to Superbowl XLVI, I thought it would be fun to re-examine a city that holds an important place in my life. A city where my Nana still lives, in a two-story suburban ranch that she bought with her husband in 1967. A city I visited before I learned to walk, then later frequented as a Hoosier for eight years in high school and college. A city where I attended my first concert without parents (Rush at Market Square Arena!), played a drum kit in front of thousands (IU basketball at the Fieldhouse!), and attempted to woo women (ice skating at Pan Am Plaza!)

Despite these fond memories, Indy is a city that, once I turned 17 or so, I found to be kind of lame. But many rationally-minded, fun-loving friends and family members continue to live in the Circle City. Perhaps things are less lame now. Or maybe urban lameness is of little concern when you can earn a steady paycheck and raise a family in one of the most affordable cities in America. Perhaps a little bit of both. And so I ask the good people of Indy: You may be hosting the Superbowl this weekend, but is Indianapolis still lame?


Don’t get me wrong: Indy has its merits. It has a fairly lively (if small) downtown, plentiful manufacturing and health care jobs, an amazingly low median home sales price of $123,682 (in 2011), an ever-expanding network of bike lanes and trails, and many of the necessary cultural trappings of a large American city: museums, theatre, music, and plenty of sports. People are friendly, many schools are excellent, and the weather is no worse than anywhere else the Midwest.

But as a young adult, I developed a mild loathing, or at least an ambivalence, toward Naptown. Seeking urban adventure on college weekends, I tired of Indy’s minimal offerings and instead trekked to the surrounding major cities of Cincinnati, Louisville, St Louis and Chicago. Looking for jobs after graduating from Indiana University, I quickly fled to the east coast. Did my familiarity breed contempt, or was I truly living near India-no-place? It’s hard for me to say objectively.

What follows are six of my primary pet peeves about Indy, based on 30 years of observations. Some may be ten years out of date; others may still ring true. And fortunately, some of these problems can be solved.


(1) Lame geography

Most cities were initially established at some confluence of natural features that aided commerce and development, and simultaneously blessed them with memorable settings. New York City is where the Hudson River meets the sea. San Francisco has the largest protected harbor on the west coast. Three rivers converge in Pittsburgh. Chicago is at the southern end of Lake Michigan. Even land-locked Denver sits at the foot of the Front Range near the source of the Platte River.

Indianapolis, meanwhile, sits in the middle of a vast plain with an unnavigable river running through it. This is not an impediment to commerce now that we have interstates, airports and railroads. But Indy’s location is unusual in that it was chosen for no other reason than its geographic centrality in the state of Indiana. Convenient, yes. But it doesn’t make for a memorable, visually stimulating setting. Residents of Indianapolis, like those of Tulsa, Dallas and other cities of the plains, must therefore generate their own forms of stimulation in the built and cultural environment. No one is moving to Indianapolis for mountain views or beach access.


(2) Between the ages of 14 and 21? Sucks to be you.

Every summer growing up, my parents would drop me and my sister off at our grandmother’s house in Northeast Indianapolis for a two-week stay. We called it Camp Nana, and we loved it. Indianapolis offered much for kids in the 1980’s: the Children’s Museum, the Zoo (which had just moved to its current, larger location), and miles of quiet suburban streets to ride bikes, throw frisbees and launch water balloons.

But when I actually moved to the region as a teenager, those kid activities had become - you guessed it - lame. When my parents let me start driving downtown at age 17, there was little to do except go to Circle Center Mall, eat at the food court, and maybe catch a movie. Conditions did not improve at age 18, 19 or 20. Some states, like neighboring Kentucky and Ohio, had “21 to drink, 18 to party” laws, where you could at least hang out at bars but just drink soda. Puritan Indiana was not one of those states, so most nightlife was off limits. The coolest concerts were at 21-and-over venues like The Vogue. Union Station hosted a great series of all-ages shows, but these were short lived. There was nowhere else to hang out. Coffee shops or foodie places hadn’t really caught on yet (and maybe still haven’t), and there were no all-ages venues to speak of.

Sometimes we just drove around. One Saturday night, two high school buds and I drove about 100 miles just to figure out where a spotlight was coming from. Lo and behold, it was emanating from a huge country music dance hall where you had to be 21 to enter.  


(3) Have a car or stay home.

I-465 & I-70. Photo: Janssen & Spaans Engineering

Like the Indianapolis 500, getting around Indy is a driving ritual. I’ve always known this. But my last visit to Indy in 2010 entailed even more driving than I expected. I arrived at the new airport, which is several miles further out than the old one. I met friends at restaurants in strip malls, driving from one large parking lot to another, navigating miles of four- or six-lane roads. The journey downtown was longer than I remembered, perhaps because there are eight numbered streets to a mile, compared to Portland’s twenty. Freeways had been widened by several lanes since my last visit, or were in process. And using transit was completely off the table. Indy is a car city. You drive to work. You drive to the grocery store. You drive your kids to school. You drive to bars to drink!

Indy does have a bus system called IndyGo, but no one I know uses it. A quick glance at the website shows a modest network of 15 daily bus routes, plus another 15 weekday-only routes. Most of the routes are clustered between 38th and Washington Streets, where most people of lower means reside. This is a charitable policy, but the lack of routes in wealthier neighborhoods is certainly not going to attract any new riders. Then there’s the lousy frequencies. The bus route on College Avenue (which I would assume to be among the busiest) has 30-minute headways at best, and the last bus leaves downtown at 9:20pm. Hardly an option for a night on the town, or even a play or Colts game.

Fledgling groups of rail enthusiasts periodically try to stir interest in light rail, including a line from Fishers to Downtown. While there has been official support for rail transit by the nine-county Indianapolis MPO, support at the city/county level has been virtually non-existent. This must be pure politics. Indy may sprawl, but it has sufficient density for rail transit to work. Minneapolis, Phoenix, Atlanta and Houston all have rail transit systems in addition to their freeways and subdivisions. Indy just has the People Toaster.

One exception to Indy’s car-centric tendencies must be acknowledged: the ever-increasing accommodation of bicycle travel. Expanding upon a first-generation backbone of multi-use trails such as the Monon Rail-Trail and White River Greenway, the city/county has striped miles of on-street bike lanes, designated a system of signed, numbered bike routes, and recently completed an impressive two-way cycle track and walkway known as the Indianapolis Cultural Trail. Grassroots bicycling culture also seems to be up-and-coming. A tweed bike ride was planned during my visit (Wear your best 19th century garb while pedaling around town!). I also saw considerably more bicyclists than I did ten years ago. Indy is on its way to becoming a great cycling city - at least when it’s not zero degrees with a foot of snow on the ground.    


(4) Where are the neighborhood hubs?

It has been my experience that most Indy people eat, drink, shop and hang out at suburban shopping centers. The two main exceptions are Downtown (including Massachusetts Avenue) and Broad Ripple. Growing up, I never thought this was weird (I’m from New Jersey, after all). That is, until I visited other nearby cities of similar size.

I was completely blown away the first time I explored Cincinnati. In addition to an admirable downtown, Cincy has dozens of cool neighborhood commercial districts, hubs, villages, or whatever you want to call them. Mount Adams, Clifton Heights, University Village, Hyde Park, Mount Lookout, and other hubs are chock full of locally-owned restaurants, taverns and shops housed in historic, multi-story buildings. Down the Ohio River in Louisville, I fell in love with the Bardstown Road corridor in high school, with its record stores, bistros and coffee shops. There was absolutely nothing like it in Indy at the time - not in Broad Ripple, not on Massachusetts Avenue - nowhere. I’m not convinced there is today, either.

E. 10th St. Photo: Google Maps

What happened to neighborhood hubs in Indy? True, it is a younger city than Cincinnati or Louisville, and smaller than Chicago, but these are poor excuses. Indy had bustling early 20th century neighborhoods centered along streetcar lines just like every other American city. But Indy has mostly failed to capitalize on them in the 21st century. East 10th Street is a good (bad) example. Once host to a streetcar line, the street is lined with the type of century-old brick buildings that would incite instant hipster gentrification in Portland or Austin. But in Indy, these buildings are empty and boarded up. Has unchecked suburban sprawl eliminated any incentive to revitalize inner neighborhoods?


(5) The downtown donut

Visualize Downtown Indianapolis as a square with 5,000-foot sides (which it is), divided into 100 blocks of equal size (10 blocks by 10 blocks), and bounded by North, South, East and West streets. Now visualize the inner 16 blocks (4 blocks by 4 blocks, bounded by New York Street, Maryland Street, Delaware Avenue and Capitol Avenue). This is where most of Downtown Indy’s office space and tall buildings are located.

Parking galore in the downtown donut. Map: Google Maps

Now imagine the remaining 84 outer blocks - a square donut, if you will. A large proportion of this area (I estimate about half) is occupied by surface parking lots. There are notable exceptions, including the State Capitol, Conseco Fieldhouse and the War Memorial. But most of what remains is asphalt used for nothing more than parking cars. Beyond the square donut of parking, land uses intensify again, including IUPUI, the Lockerbie Square neighborhood, and Lucas Oil Stadium.

Indy is not alone in having a downtown donut of underutilized blocks, but that doesn’t make it okay. These acres of parking are a waste of valuable urban real estate, an eyesore, a source of water pollution and hot air, and a magnet for crime. In most American downtowns, it is economically feasible to build underground or structured parking, especially with public-private partnerships. But it appears that the city/county government and property owners have chosen to leave these lots be, caving to a desire for tons of cheap parking. Land in the region is not constrained enough for anyone to care.

A better-planned downtown would have no such donut, and would instead strive to fill these empty blocks with millions of square feet of office space, retail, entertainment, institutions, residences and public amenities. Parking would be provided in underground pay garages, while parking demand is reduced through investments in transit, bicycle and pedestrian infrastructure. This is the approach employed in cities with more constrained land bases, such as Portland, Seattle and Boston. Just because Indy has plenty of horizontal space doesn’t mean it should be wasted.


(6) A divided city

Finally, I am troubled by the complicated, sensitive issue of racial segregation and inequity. Every large American city has a history of racial struggles, discrimination and segregation. But it seems Indianapolis remains remarkably segregated, with upper-middle class white neighborhoods on the far north side, poor black neighborhoods in the near north side, and blue-collar white neighborhoods on the south side.

Racial/ethnic majorities: White in green, Black in blue,
Hispanic in yellow. Map: New York Times.

A study of 2010 census data by by Brown University professor John Logan and Florida State University professor Brian Stults ranks Indy as the 11th most segregated city in America (The top dishonor goes to Detroit). Most census tracts in Indy are either at least 80% white or at least 80% black. The neighborhoods near Keystone and 30th are more than 90% black (one tract is 96% black), while the neighborhoods near Broad Ripple and Butler University are 90% white.

There is nothing wrong with neighborhoods with a strong, proud heritage of any particular race or ethnicity. I just worry that segregated neighborhoods perpetuate ingrained inequalities from earlier eras - inequalities in schools, public safety, job opportunities and amenities. I also believe that diversity enriches the human experience, and that living in a neighborhood with 95% of any one type of person can be stifling.

But what can be done? IPS’s experiment with busing in the 1980’s was ultimately a failure, and didn’t address the core problem of residential segregation. Gentrification and displacement are certainly not in everybody’s best interest. Hopefully the city/county has the resolve and intelligence to pursue targeted projects and programs so that people have, at the very least, economic opportunities and livable surroundings, regardless of their neighborhood or skin color.


A call for de-lame-ification

Alright, that was more than enough complaining for one sitting. Great people of Indianapolis: I challenge you to solve these and other problems, and to end any remaining lameness in your city. I look forward to seeing the results on my next visit. In the meantime, enjoy The Big Game. I hear there’s a zipline at the Superbowl Village. That is definitely not lame!