I Put Up a Fence in Maine. Why Did It Cause Such a Fuss? (Published 2024)

The article explores the author Heidi Julavits's experience building a seven-foot-tall cedar fence around her 1815-built home in rural Maine, and the subsequent reactions from her community. For 23 years after purchasing the house, Julavits and her husband maintained a tall hedge that blurred their view of the road, adhering to local expectations of preserving the historical aesthetic and respecting neighbors' views. The town, with a permanent population of 830 that more than doubles in summer, has few zoning ordinances, relying instead on informal social norms and etiquette. The decision to erect a fence came after a driver plowed through their hedge, an event that coincided with increasing traffic speeds on their road, making it dangerous for their young children and guests. The author describes her initial humorous and later more serious attempts to address the speeding issue, reflecting on Maine's historical identity as "Vacationland" and its complex relationship with "From Aways" (outsiders). Her father, a "Year-Round Resident, Seasonally Irritated" Mainer, expresses frustration at newcomers who expect locals to adapt to their ways rather than the other way around, a sentiment illustrated by an anecdotal story about the New York Yacht Club's alleged mishap in Maine. Despite the local aversion to fences, which were seen as un-Maine-like and potentially indicative of "depressed people," Julavits and her husband chose a solid, privacy-panel fence to block traffic noise and view, motivated by a desire for safety after a friend's dog was hit and killed. The fence was installed while Julavits was away and, upon her return, its raw, neon-yellow cedar appearance and imposing height evoked immediate remorse and stirred significant community reaction. The fence was deemed too tall for their small house and an "overreaction," provoking a range of responses from consoling friends to public commentary, including an anonymous sign near their house that read, "TRUMP’S BORDER WALL 1 MILE AHEAD." This sign highlighted the perception of the fence as a hypocritical act by presumed liberal, city-dwelling outsiders. The fence significantly altered the social dynamics, with impromptu visits from friends dwindling and residents engaging in affectionate, yet pointed, teasing about their "wall." The author acknowledges the fence as both the "most From Away thing" and the "most Maine thing" she could have done, reflecting the tension between individual property rights and community expectations. Over time, the fence weathered to a gray color, and climbing hydrangeas were planted to soften its appearance, though the teasing persisted. The article also touches on the concept of houses as communal property and historical records in small towns, emphasizing the importance of preserving elements like their house's "magazine room" filled with historical clippings. The narrative weaves in Maine's evolving state slogans, from "Vacationland" to "The Way Life Should Be" and "OPEN FOR BUSINESS," reflecting changing attitudes towards tourism, development, and a growing population. The author questions the responsibilities of newcomers and the balance between preservation and progress. Seven years later, the fence has become part of the local history, and Julavits ponders if it will eventually be seen as a tradition to be preserved, much like the communal teasing it inspired. The evolving state of the fence and the community's changing perceptions symbolize the ongoing negotiation of identity, community, and change in rural Maine, especially in the context of recent demographic shifts and a surging housing market driven by out-of-state buyers during the pandemic. #MaineLife #CommunityDynamics #PropertyBoundaries #HomeImprovement #RuralLiving #SocialNorms #CulturalClash #FenceInstallation #LocalHistory #MaineLife #CommunityDynamics #PropertyBoundaries #HomeImprovement #RuralLiving #SocialNorms #CulturalClash #FenceInstallation #LocalHistory