Not So Neighborly It’S True We Don’T Know Our Neighbors As Well As We Once Did. Is That Such A Bad Thing?
People don’t know their neighbors anymore.
We hear that so often it has almost become a joke.
In a recent issue of a weekly newspaper parody called The Onion, there was a telling front-page promo for a lifestyle section story. It featured a close-cropped picture of a middle class house and the words, “Your Neighbors: Should You Consider Talking To Them?”
Ouch.
Has it gotten that bad?
OK, it can be hard for modern life to compete with the good old days. Especially when comparisons often include built-in guilt trips. But sometimes the truth is more complicated than nostalgia worshippers would have us believe.
Washington State University sociologist Loren Lutzenhiser put this in perspective.
Not everyone knew all their neighbors, say, 35 years ago, he said. And plenty of people do, in fact, know those living nearby today.
But, of course, things have changed.
“People are more mobile now,” said Lutzenhiser.
Other influences include everything from women joining the workforce in huge numbers and the rise of time-strapped single-parent households to new homes being built without front porches and people coming and going like secret couriers through a door in their garage.
Even factors such as air-conditioning (which keeps people inside) and secluded backyard decks can play a role in people remaining strangers.
Then there’s TV-watching and Web surfing.
But most agree the pace of life is the real cause.
“People are so busy,” said Ines Wynn, who edits a newsletter for Spokane’s Thorpe/Westwood neighborhood.
Moreover, we just think differently now.
Suspicions about “the others” are at an all-time high. Kids, traditionally the glue that holds a neighborhood together, tend to be scheduled to the gills nowadays with far-flung activities. And more than a few adults make careers and co-workers the center of their worlds.
If they go bowling, chances are it’s with the fellow toiler in the next cubicle — not the person living next door.
“Maybe it’s just that people don’t have that much in common,” said WSU’s Lutzenhiser.
You might share more interests and values with some online contact in California than with the guy on the other side of the fence.
Not knowing much about the neighbors is so common it has almost shed its anti-social connotation.
This is not just an urban dynamic. A recent Iowa State University study focusing on rural life found that a majority of those surveyed felt neighbors help each other less and depend on each other less than they did 10 years ago.
That sounds discouraging. But it doesn’t necessarily imply widespread alienation or a deflating lack of human contact.
“When we need support, we jump in a car,” said Sharon Moses, a nurse practitioner in Spokane who knows only a few of her neighbors.
For most, the days of Millie Helper and Laura Petrie running next door every five minutes have gone the way of the rooftop TV antenna.
A cynic might suggest there are more “Neighborhood Watch” street signs than there are neighbors actually watching out for one another.
Comparing eras in a judgmental way might be a mistake, though.
“Things are different now,” said Janet Davis, program manager for the city of Spokane’s Neighborhood Services office.
People view the notion of community in varied ways today - ways that don’t always rely on the geographic accident of living on the same block.
“There are so many different definitions of what a neighborhood is,” said Davis.
Still, some are quick to bemoan loss of the familiarity inherent in close-knit residential blocks. And one reason for this skepticism about modern life is the fact that today’s adults remember their childhoods.
They recall roaming their neighborhoods for hours without anyone worrying. They remember every house, every yard.
It’s not unusual to find baby boomers who can list virtually everyone who lived on their streets when they were 10 but who cannot tell you the names of their neighbors today.
What these nostalgic grown-ups don’t always recall with perfect clarity is that their parents didn’t necessarily spend enormous amounts of time with their friends’ parents.
Not to mention the sobering truth that relations with the family next door are not always harmonious. (According to at least one national survey, problems with neighbors are one of the most common reasons people move.)
So there’s no doubt. You could find those who would argue that “Live and let live” isn’t a bad philosophy.
Still, few would deny the appeal of being on friendly terms with the folks living nearby.
Certainly there are Spokane-area residents who pointedly seek out isolation and want most of all to be left alone. But chances are at least as many would like nothing better than to feel that their neighborhood is a safe, connected place.
Think about the way strangers pull together during times of crisis, such as after the big ice storm a few years ago.
In recent years, a small movement of urban designers has struggled to find workable ways to get people out of their cars and interacting with one another. Their efforts are simply a recognition that many of us yearn for a personal link to those we live beside.
“I think you miss out when that’s not there,” said Bob Hilton, a retiree on the North Side.
He and his wife, Joan, have reached out with steps that have included organizing block parties. The result has been more talking over the fence and more waving.
That’s a nice thing.
But Hilton isn’t trying to turn back time. He knows the partly mythical era of coffee klatches and all the men belonging to the Raccoon Lodge is gone.
He needn’t look farther for a reality check than to a couple next door in their 40s.
“They’re nice people,” said Hilton. “But they’re really busy. I hardly ever see them.”