Nantucket: A Happy Place - For some

To the editor: It’s the happy place—at least for some people.

For others, it’s a place of compromise. A place where workers are imported from the farthest corners of the world, living in conditions that most of us would find unacceptable, just to keep the island running. We call it "affordable housing," but for many, it’s overcrowded, substandard, and built on the premise of reducing wages to sustain an economy that caters to the highest bidders.

It’s the happy place—except when you’re fighting for a parking space mid-Island, as homeowners push their properties to the very edge of their lots, worsening a problem that was already out of control. It’s the happy place—except when yet another massive house appears on the landscape, packing in more short-term guests, contributing to congestion, and stretching the community fabric thinner and thinner.

Make no mistake—it’s a paradise for developers. The off-island corporations have no loyalty to Nantucket’s history, culture, or people. For them, it’s about one thing: profit. And some local players are complicit, cashing in while the island transforms into a playground for investors rather than a home for those who truly care about its future.

Of course, the workers who come here—many from developing nations—see opportunity. And compared to where they’ve come from, perhaps it is better. But at what cost to the community? How much longer can we pretend this is sustainable?

So let’s keep drinking the Kool-Aid, keep telling ourselves it’s the happy place—until we’re stuck in a traffic jam fit for a major American city. Until it’s nearly impossible to take a ride down to Surfside on the bike path, or we’re sweating bullets dodging cars whizzing by on Wauwinet Road and Tom Nevers. Until the grocery lines stretch deeper into the off-season, as the workforce never really shrinks anymore. Until the Jeeps of summer are replaced by an endless procession of contractor trucks, even in midwinter, signaling that the building frenzy never really stops.

At some point, we have to ask: When does profit overtake people? When does unchecked greed hollow out the heart of this island? What happens to Nantucket when those who love it most can no longer afford to stay?

The future of this island isn’t just a question—it’s a choice. And the time to make it is now.

Charles Dundee