Neighborly
Speaking as someone who’s made eight homes in two states, three cities and two boroughs in the last ten years, I tell you, there’s nothing better than living in a neighborhood.
“But isn’t every place you can live in a neighborhood?”
Nope. I’m talking about the kind of place where people care about the welfare of the people they share their streets with. About the kind of place where you don’t have to be strictly on guard at all hours of the day. Where the people you pass on the sidewalk might actually smile at you! In New York! The kind of place where people are looking out for each other.
This morning I watched the King of Cliches play out around the corner. From halfway down the block, I could see an older woman inching her way to the crosswalk — the excruciating tortoise. And then out of nowhere a group of kids start to whirl by like a dust cloud on its way to school. Naturally, my stomach muscles clench up a little; I’m looking out for trouble.
But one of the kids stops to help the woman across the street. Not to push her or point and laugh or steal her bag. JUST TO HELP. And by the time I reached the corner, the two of them had reached the other side of the street and the woman was happily scooting the kid off to his friends.
I know I’m a total sucker for this shit, but I nearly teared up. The old and the young coexisting, and a happy example of a kid raised right: THIS is a neighborhood.
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Every place you live may not come as a ready-made, pre-packaged version, but I’m convinced that one small action can change a place for the better.
Bring your neighbor’s newspaper inside. Accept a package for someone who’s not home. Instead of rolling your eyes over the noise, look out the window when you hear a car alarm. Smile at someone you pass today.
Overall, just fight the urge to do nothing. On the contrary: GET INVOLVED. Even if it means overcoming the fear that “something bad will happen”. What’s the point of living so close to so many other people if we’re not going to be a community?
