A group of mothers meets weekly at the picnic table in a neighborhood playground to plan their campaign to dislodge some city money and raise private funds for improvements to the nearby recreation center - known, half-fondly, as "The Wreck." The older kids in the neighborhood need an indoor space for basketball, and the school next door doesn't have an auditorium.
The director of a small homeless shelter asks neighborhood residents to volunteer for a new program to train shelter residents for restaurant work. Already, neighbors take it in turns to cook and deliver dinner to the shelter during the week, staying to share the meal and conversation.
In my relatively affluent, safe Washington, DC, neighborhood, we nevertheless have drug dealers, drug abusers, homeless individuals and families, troubled kids, poverty and hunger. We also have a strong, informal network of people and organizations to help people in trouble, and sometimes even to prevent trouble in the first place. This loose network of the helpful, the faithful and the nosy has counterparts in neighborhoods all over the city, and all around the nation.
On September 11, terrorists blew a hole in our world. Here in Washington, where we all know somebody who works in the Pentagon, the hole looms large. In New York City it looms larger. And good-hearted people from every community have rushed to fill the emptiness with love and money. As they should.
At our local elementary school, kids and parents brought in their stored-up coins and small bills for donations to help the families of local schoolchildren and teachers killed in the Pentagon plane crash. Other schools and other groups have found
But this outpouring of support should not put our everyday, small-potatoes charitable organizations and neighborhood groups at risk. These days it seems a lot harder to ask a local restaurant owner to buy an ad in the community association newspaper. The church winter clothing drive may be overshadowed by the call for contributions to the families of New York victims. But local needs have not gone away in the aftermath of September 11, and may become more acute.
Kids, whose families will be under added stress as the economy slows and the war takes us in as-yet-unknown directions, will need that quality after-school program more than ever. Art, music, games, friends and play become more important, not less, when uncertainty is the backdrop to our lives.
As our aircraft drop rations on the Afghan countryside, those of us who can afford it should continue to drop cans at the local food bank…along with a small check. Those of us who can't, can still offer critically important help: an hour or two serving food at a soup kitchen, a visit to a homebound neighbor, maybe an offer to watch a neighbor's toddler for awhile.
What makes our neighborhood-helping network effective are the many ways we stay connected --through community events, like the Fun Fair at our neighborhood school and the annual festival sponsored by local businesses and restaurants. Contributions of funds, food and services make these events successful. Some are also fundraisers, to buy books for the school library or landscape a new garden at the community center. With people digging so deep into their hearts and pockets in response to September 11, will there be enough spare change left for these unglamorous and less urgent needs? I hope so.
Our neighborhood, like every neighborhood, will face the future with more strength and resilience if we can stay connected.
