Lamenting Our Youthfulness (Less)

Lamenting Our Youthfulness (Less)

We all know the statistical—and increasingly anecdotal—truth about our aging community. The numbers are not a mystery. According to the latest census data, roughly 22% of our residents are 65 and older, and that share continues to grow. Meanwhile, only about 34% fall into the 18 to 45 age range, and that percentage has been slowly declining.

And yet, in nearly every conversation about community vitality, we hear the same refrain: we need more young people involved. More volunteers. More event participation. More energy in our civic life. The response often follows just as quickly: there just aren’t enough of them.

But “enough” is a relative term.

When you step back and look at the data, 34% of our population is still more than 3,000 residents in that younger, working-age bracket. That is not a shortage of people—that is a significant segment of the community. The question may not be where are they? but rather why aren’t we seeing them more often in the places where community happens?

What got me thinking about this recently was a simple, ordinary habit. I try to get over to Crown Point Country Club about once a week for lunch. Sitting in the pub there, you have a front-row seat to the end of every round of golf. What I started noticing was hard to ignore: a steady stream of younger players—people in their 20s, 30s, and 40s. Not a few here and there, but a consistent presence. A whole lot of them.

It made me wonder: where are all these folks in town life?

Now, yes—Crown Point naturally draws many visitors from outside the area. Golfers with disposable income. People with flexible schedules. Folks who are clearly already choosing to spend time—and money—in our region. But if they are here for recreation, why aren’t we more intentionally connecting them to what happens just a few miles down the road in downtown Springfield?

Because that is the opportunity.

We may not immediately convert these visitors into new residents, but we can absolutely convert them into repeat spenders, advocates, and connectors. And over time, that matters. People bring friends. Friends become familiar. Familiarity becomes curiosity. And curiosity can turn into something far more meaningful—like deciding that maybe Springfield isn’t just a place to visit, but a place to live.

We have the raw ingredients already: abundant outdoor recreation, a classic New England downtown, a tight-knit and welcoming community, and a growing calendar of events that reflect real local pride. These are not abstract assets—they are lived experiences waiting to be better connected.

Maybe the “youth dilemma” is less about absence and more about engagement. Less about shortage and more about visibility.

So here is the invitation: let’s lean into what we already have. Let’s show a little more of it, share a little more of it, and connect the dots a little more intentionally. Put on our best version of Springfield—our finery, if you will—and invite people in.

And if you have ideas on how to do that better, stop by the Chamber and share them. The conversation is long overdue, and it is one worth having together.