I accept each new day of September as a gift of one more day of neighborhood activity; a promise of neighborhood connectivity. Truthfully, I am not looking forward to winter. It's not the snow, the horrendous heating bills, or the icy sidewalks making the Fourth to Seventh Street walk to work a treacherous one. Because darkness descends so early in the evening/late afternoon, and with no warm gathering place to just hang out, our casual drop-in relationships will become suspended until spring.
Weekend movies on the porch have bec ome a large focus over the last two summers. They've become much more than simply a movie night. Kids often start asking on Monday, 'are we having a movie this week?' I've found that they are the better selectors of movies than I am, so I largely leave it with them to select and negotiate. Bantering mingles with calling dibs on a favorite seat; serious conversation sometimes occurs during 'glitch fixes' of the DVD player or projector, checked out from my workplace. Conversation might drift from violence in school, local theft, social behavior, sex education in school, to medical or homeless issues. These topics come from the kids, eight to 14 years old.
Interestingly, what has evolved is that besides a group of kids actually watching a movie, a growing group of pre-teen to young teens gathers on the edge of the porch or in the yard itself. The movie seems of no apparent interest. They just gather on the steps or on their bikes and talk among themselves. Occasionally, a two or three will leave to race down Bates, then return. I suppose it's no different than my enjoying time at a coffee shop – just being in a comfortable place to chat, with no planned activity, just be.
If I could move all this indoors for the winter, I readily would do so. I look at empty houses such as 342 Bates, listed at $159,000 (I just called the realtor, who said someone is seriously considering its purchase, as a four-plex). A house like this would be a perfect drop-in center for kids (and possibly a parents' meeting place). I know the Dayton's Bluff branch library has a well-used homework room with tutors; also that we have a great rec center on Conway Street (though a challenge in crossing Third). I dream of a drop-in center where kids can come for help with homework, or even just a place to study or read; a place where they can stop in and talk with any adult who is there (and those adults being neighborhood people)...a place to play board games or work on a 3-D puzzle. I'm not talking about a second recreation center or introducing more vehicle traffic; not even a child care or playground. Just a year-round place where kids can benefit from caring adults who are willing to provide a place of safety and conducive to informal socializing, learning, and confidence in reading or writing...in their own neighborhood. And could it be possible to have a place where struggling neighborhood parents could meet and work through parenting issues?
I am aware of organizations and agencies with facilities for meetings and activities. I am also aware that of fifteen kids of all ages, standing at the morning bus stop, each one can be attending a different school, scattered throughout the city. I'm not saying this is good or bad in itself. My observation is that many neighborhoods such as ours, have no common thread as there once was. A common thread might be a school, a place of worship, or a common value, or a local company where most parents worked and shared the same meal time, payday, employer expectations. One neighbor might discipline another's child, being of the same mind and same value. Even the threat of becoming the subject of a rumor could sanction a person's behavior.
If we do have a current common value – one by which we openly live – it's more difficult to identify. Though we have a number of families who own homes and whose children have lived here most of their lives, we also have children who come and go. They appear in a yard, on the porch, perhaps throw stones to establish their presence...they may relate to two or three adults, establish a beginning relationship and then disappear...perhaps fifteen blocks away, perhaps to an aunt in Illinois or Mississippi, sometimes the family splitting itself between two or three relatives.
So what is my point? My point is that I see two groups of kids: those who find activities such as skateboarding, biking, baseball, etc. and play together. They are called home for meals, at curfews; they check in from time to time, and look after each other's welfare; they are fairly static. The other group is more fluid, often changing with the change of months. They usually aren't here long enough to grasp the values or 'rules' of the neighborhood. It would be too easy to yell at each one who traipses through a garden, picking or pulling out flowers, rather than explain what a garden is; of addressing each F- word spewed, or litter tossed into the street; the difference between climbing a tree versus climbing over a private fence. In our immediate two blocks in any direction, are Karen, Somali, Black, Latino, Hmong, and Euro-white children. Though there are few actual clashes and those are by 'adults', most of these cultures keep to their own ethnic groups, just playing around the fringes of others. Even among kids, friendships seem tentative. Would it be easier if kids all went to the same neighborhood school? I'm not proposing it, I'm just considering that with only a few hours after school or on weekends, it can be difficult to establish healthy roles even among children in a neighborhood.
oo many children running around unsupervised. Most live one to three blocks from our Fourth & Bates neighborhood.
I grew up in a family of seven people (four girls and one boy), moving from place to place, never with more than two bedrooms for the entire family. I learned to study best with a hum of noise in the background, but usually had to stay up until 11 at night before there was any space to open math books and spread out homework papers.
Most people know how the porch movies started, so I won't go into it except to say that in doing it, I meant to build a neighborhood connection between adult residents and children and others who walk and play in our neighborhood. That has happened, and continues. What has caught me in total awe is the strength, sensitivity, insight and creativity of the young people in our area. A local man, who rebuilds bikes, dropped off four or five 'rejects'. Led by one young man, these many bikes became two or three, combined with parts from others and given to those who were without a bike. One extended 'tricycle' lost its large, wide, hard plastic wheels and gained spoked wheels, a cushy video chair seat and eventually a speaker system; quieter bike and easy turning. As bikes are rebuilt and sold or traded, I'm even learning what parts and sizes are most sought...pegs anyone?
A neighbor had found and dropped off a picnic table of sorts. As we considered what color to paint the seats, one of the boys suggested a design of a second color. It's looking great. We've already used it many times, one being a pizza supper (their idea and treat). We all learned by trial and error, the finer points in using painters' tape for design work and again, we learned patience. During one talk time with four or five boys present, one noticed that I had yawned and looked droopy. He is one who sort of looks out for me...my age, I dread to say. He sweetly suggested to the others that we move the conversation to the porch where I could lie on the lounge chair. I have received gifts of cinnamon swirl bread from a local bakery where the parents of one of the girls work; homemade tamales from another. Best of all are the smiles and what their eyes reveal – sometimes silent laughter, sometimes a quizzical look in response to an odd behavior, especially of an adult, sometimes a furrowed brow.
Last weekend, a skateboarder, probably late teens or early twenties, came down his usual Maple to Bates Fourth Street hill. I love watching him, though I am amazed that he and others risk their lives at the four-way stop at which most drivers don't actually look to see what's coming – only look at what is already at the intersection. I've seen him wipe out a few times, even without traffic. This particular day I was stunned to see that he was clutching to his chest, a baby! Not even a toddler. A baby!
No one could tell me where he lives. I said to one of the boys, who was visiting on my porch, that I will smash a watermelon in front of the skateboarder to demonstrate what his baby's head will look like if he falls while holding the baby. My visitor looked shocked. He later related this to a friend, and I couldn't help but embrace the slight smile on his face. And here's the gift: a few days later, something happened and his smile came to mind...these moments give over and over again. I'll break out in a smile or laughter myself and have a difficult time explaining why. I carry the neighborhood in my heart. I've never known such a neighborhood; nor have I ever lived among people where each is so valued.
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