Won’t You Be My Neighbor?

Lately I’ve been seeking a sense of community. My husband and I moved into our new house about a year and a half ago and while I love where I live, I’ve yet to get that feeling of a neighborhood. I don’t exactly know why I feel this way lately because it was never important to me before. As long as I could walk to the grocery store and have a few decent restaurant options nearby, that is all that mattered. As much as I hate to admit it, I think that a lot of this new desire parallels recent change in my life. I’m recently married, I’ve invested in property, and here it goes... my maternal instincts are kicking in even though we don’t have any kids yet. (There, I said it.) I mean, who do I go to if I need an egg or a teaspoon of sugar or a cup of milk for a recipe? It is such a 1950s mentality, isn’t it, and the funny thing is, I don't even bake. Truly, the Safeway is two blocks away – why do I need a neighbor to provide these things for me? Just tie up my New Balance and I’m on my way.

Where is our community? I think that much of it has to do with the fact that we live in a city and not along tree lined suburban streets that make up pretty little neat and tidy subdivisions. (Even this could be a daydream.) I think much of it has to do with the transient nature of Washington, D.C. where people come and go all the time, never really planting roots in any one place for too long. Another reason could be that our neighborhood is in a serious state of growth and transition. New condos and apartment buildings are going up everywhere. The long time residents are, in fact, getting pushed out. It’s becoming too expensive.

Regardless, I’d like to get to know my neighbors. Even if they don’t plan to stick around for too long. I think it adds to a sense of security and a feeling of belonging, which as far as I know never hurt anyone. And if any of them need a teaspoon of sugar, I’d be happy to oblige.