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To quote Nat “King” Cole, “the autumn leaves drift by the window,” and with every leaf that falls from the tree standing outside my room I become more aware of the fact that I need to buy curtains. With the season of fall, I realize now that my neighbors’ visibility into my room has rapidly increased. If I am able to see my neighbors windows then it is not unlikely that they can see into my bedroom window. It’s kind of like that classic theatre adage, if you can see the audience then the audience can see you. All of this to say, recently my neighbors have been on my mind.
Growing up, my neighbors had little to no impact on my life. Neighbors were just anecdotal sources of complaint. I would have a hard time telling you anything about my neighbors back home. Now that I am living off campus I can easily say that nothing has really changed regarding my relationship with my neighbors. I live between college students and “real adults” — the type of people who do renovations on their house and tell us to move our trash cans to the back of our house. (Despite the fact that they were clearly on our property and caused no issue being where they were. Can you tell that this is a source of conflict I have with my “real adult” neighbors?)
Beyond that I have no qualms. There are no real issues, all I can do is hope that I myself don’t behave in a way that makes me “that” neighbor. But I will confess, deep down inside my understanding of the way things are, there is part of me that wishes that neighborhoods could serve as the communities they should be.
But let’s get back to this leaf thing. My front yard is covered in leaves. I came back to my house in between classes one day, and was putting off writing an essay. Naturally, I found myself with a rake. We don’t have seasons in Texas so raking is something I never really did. But it was an impulse I had, so I knew that it was an impulse that I needed to explore. So, I stood outside on my front lawn and began raking.
Immediately after I began, I realized just how much attention I had drawn towards myself. Apparently on my street, there is nothing that is more strange and unusual than a college student raking leaves. Older couples stared at me on their walks and it really made my front yard feel like a zoo exhibit. One woman stopped to talk to me, “Looks like you are making some progress!” I love this stuff. There is nothing I love more than an adult speaking to me. “You bet!” I replied. Nailed it. “I see you waited for the last leaf to fall to start raking.” What is that supposed to mean? But I gave her grace, because I am a great person. “Yeah! Didn’t want to have to do multiple trips.” The end. That was our interaction, it was friendly and slightly passive aggressive, everything I wanted from a neighborly interaction.
I had a few interactions with people on the sidewalk like this as I walked, but my favorite one was with my neighbor who had offered to help me pick up my leaves. I learned her name, we chatted, and she even offered to let me borrow lawn equipment for the next time I started working on my lawn. By the time I finished bagging up leaves, I was so incredibly stoked about the fact that I had engaged in a plethora of neighborly interactions.
I had gotten a taste of a forbidden fruit. That forbidden fruit being talking to my neighbors. Could it be? Was there a path for me that showed a way of neighborhood living other than avoiding eye contact with my neighbors on the street? Maybe. But there are only so many leaves to rake, how does one participate in a community beyond raking the front yard? I don’t know. But I really would like to find out. Sure, it’s great for an adult to pass you on a jog and say “morning” but it would be really exciting if I was able to even know and smile at the college students living in my neighborhood.
I don’t anticipate that happening any time soon, but a girl can dream. All I have in the meantime is bell hooks. In chapter eight of “All About Love”, hooks writes that “Just by speaking to a stranger, acknowledging their presence on the planet, we make a connection.” Hooks continues by saying, “Every day we all have an opportunity to practice the lessons learned in community. Being kind and courteous connects us to one another.” When I am older and settle down in a place more permanent I like to think that I will make an effort to know the people around me. But in the meantime, why let the temporary nature of off-campus housing prevent us from knowing our neighbors?
With one final bell hooks quote to justify my obsession with my neighbors, “We can begin by sharing a smile, a warm greeting, a bit of conversation; by doing a kind deed or acknowledging kindness offered us.” One day I hope that living in a college neighborhood will carry more than just the experience of walking up Beeler at night to be greeted with an abstract renaissance portrait of squished Zyns, cigarette butts, silhouetted bong smokers, and shirtless drinking games. College students are just as much a part of these neighborhoods we occupy as any other resident and it doesn’t make sense for us to distance ourselves from the possibility of being some part of the community. It can begin with an afternoon spent raking your front lawn, throwing away your rotting halloween pumpkins, or a simple friendly greeting to a neighbor on the street. All it takes to build community is a simple act of kindness to yourself and your neighbors.