The $10 Change We Can Make to Save Our Small Towns

When you grow up in the Midwest, you can be sure of two things in the summer—you’re going to sweat AND a lot of that sweating is going to be done at street fairs.

Your town is going to cordon off a set of city blocks, then the local artisans, collectors, antique dealers, and everyday flea market scheisters will setup tent-covered booths between deep-battered food trucks, all trying to sell you things you don’t need at prices that will—whether high or low—stun you.

Not a word of my description is false nor are they defamatory. In our home, we have three pieces of art purchased from street fairs and farmers’ markets. There’s nothing wrong with buying your indoor art from an outside venue. It makes you folksy. A supportive of the arts to boot. Still, I want to reiterate—I love street fairs.

‍Now, I have a rule, and this rule does not need to be adopted by anyone else, however, if you don’t adopt it, you’re a heretic and may you burn in the sulphuric flames of the small-town Hades for all eternity. (By the way: small town Hades is the barbershop in the old part of town that smells like Marlboro Reds, has exactly one barber and exactly one barber chair. The minimum wait-time is 45 minutes and once you’re in the chair, it’s going to be another 45. Somehow the almost-full-color TV sitting on a mirrored credenza between decades worth of newspapers and tchotchkes is still showing BREAKING NEWS from 1978. And the barber uses words like “those people” and you know exactly who he’s talking about.)

My rule at street fairs: If the vendor does not live in the state where the street fair is being held, I don’t buy from them.

Harsh? Maybe.‍ ‍

Prejudicial? Perhaps.

Have I had to pass on Corndog Alley because all the vendors were from Ohio? Also, yes.

But there’s a reason.

I want as much of my money to stay as close to my wallet as possible.

And if my wallet is in Indiana, I want my money to stay within its bounds. If it’s in New York, same goes.

Please note: this is not the same thing as nationalism or nativism. There is a difference between trade among countries and retail purchasing of local goods in a resident state. We live in a global economy and we should consider how our spending can impact folks in other countries, especially those countries that don’t have the resources, opportunities, and wealth we are blessed to have. Also, trade is a form of diplomacy; when you’re buying from someone, they’re usually not shooting at you.

Usually. ‍

But when it comes to buying local, I want to be as local as possible. The easiest way to do this—outside of street fairs and our rules around them—is to shift our spending from national brands to local brands.

Here’s the thesis, kids: When we spend money with locally-owned businesses, more of that money stays in our local economy than if we spend it with businesses that are owned and operated outside of our area.

The more money we spend locally, the better economic outcomes we can create locally.

How many times a week do you go to Starbucks or Dunkin? Would it be crazy to replace just one of those trips with a local coffee shop?

Do you and your family go out to eat or order pizza on Fridays? Would your kids throw a fit if you ordered local?

The natural progression here is to talk about national grocery stores vs farmers’ markets and co-ops and regional supermarkets. We’re not ready for that. Affordability is too much of an issue to try and shift every bit of our spending or every category from the cheaper option to the more local, probably somewhat higher-priced version.

That’s what we do, right? Most of us are looking at price tags before we look at the production label. We care way more about how something affects our budget than we worry about our local economy. We kind of have to. If we spend all our money at the co-op and Bill’s Coffee Emporium, it doesn’t really matter if new jobs are popping up or if Bill can add a second location. We’re broke! We went broke to help you, Bill!

It doesn’t have to reach this extreme, though. No matter what you see on Tik Tok or Instagram about the necessity for buying local with every dollar, for the vast majority of us, it is simply not feasible. We don’t have the money. We don’t have the time. And dammit, sometimes you need 43 potato chip options before you can make a decision. The co-op probably has four. That’s not enough! And why are they all jalapeño-lime kettle chips?!

What can we do?

We can all admit that we want our local economies to be strong. We want our local businesses to survive and thrive and create jobs and opportunities for our friends, families, and neighbors. We want everyone to do well, because when we all do well, everyone’s home prices go up, our education outcomes improve, we gain access to better healthcare, and we are no longer beholden to Wal-Mart and Amazon and General Motors to provide for us—both on the shelf and in our bank accounts.

Said more plainly: the more money we spend locally, the more stable our jobs, money, health, and lives are.

Let’s take it one step at a time. One change at a time.

Can we go to a local coffee shop once this week?

Can we buy a book from the local bookstore instead of Amazon?

Check out locally-owned thrift shops for back-to-school items and even college dorm décor.

Let’s call it the $10 challenge.

When you spend $10 locally that you normally would have spent somewhere else, tell me about it!

Email me adam@americantownsman.com

Or DM me on Facebook, Tik Tok, or Instagram.

Make your $10 count.

Is there one change you can make this week to shift even $10 from Wal-Mart or Amazon or Target or Dunkin back to your local economy?

Keep your money as close to your wallet or pocket book as possible. The closer you live to where your money is spent, the better future you’re building for your kids and your town itself.

-AT

Adam Tidrow is a serial entrepreneur, expert in American business and economic history, and scholar whose work focuses primarily on local economic development in the American Rust Belt.

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