The following is an article I wrote after my first attempt at being a "community organizer". In my effort to be truly human, I recognize my need for a neighborhood - a community that surrounds me, watches me, includes me, is nosy about my business, and let's me in on their needs as well. Yesterday, I felt as though my need was met in such a tangible way.
Thank you East Ross Street!
It’s 8:30pm and I can still hear the giggles and shouts of the children taking advantage of a blocked off city street. Today was “block party” day here on East Ross. According to the long-time residents of this block, this was a first for here.
One grandmother said, “We didn’t have to plan such events back then because we were always out – walking up and down the street, sharing porches and sharing life.”
Maybe some of us longed for the “way it use to be,” so 2 months ago we got together and decided to see if we could make it happen. Oldtimers, newcomers, the curious, and the politely dutiful, all sat through meetings hammering out details. None of us had really ever done a block party before so there were no specialists among us. The Mayors Office of Special Events was contacted and graciously gave us permission to hold our event from 4 – 9:00 pm on September 20. Flyers were passed out and the neighborhood started buzzing.
It was a good buzz.
The excitement was tangible.
This afternoon at 4 o’clock, I sat back and watched doors open and residents from my street begin to, one by one, bring rice and beans, grilled hotdogs, pasta salad, banana pudding, and apple pie to the community table. Even a soft serve ice cream machine made an appearance. Gleeful little ones raced up and down the yellow line in the middle of the street, just because they could. All of the older ones became the parents, grandparents, uncles, and aunts to every ones’ children. Young and old danced together under the late summer sun, to the DJ’s songs. As if by magic, butterfly’s appeared on the cheeks of little girls and stars on little boys. The line for the face painter was long and patient.
There was limbo, water balloons, dodge ball, and as darkness fell, a sheet was hung between two trees for a movie before bedtime.
As I watched popcorn in Ziploc bags being passed down the rows of gathered movie watchers, I felt good. Perhaps just then I was experiencing a connection with days gone by on East Ross. I also raised my Popcorn bag in hope, as a toast to a more connected and community oriented future.
