3. USE THE SOFT EDGES
There is a bench in my courtyard right outside my kitchen window where I often sit and read. From the bench, you can see a tall chestnut tree and hear the wind in the leaves. The bench also functions as a semi-private space – I can be by myself, but I am still close enough to the public space that people will say hello and ask about the book I’m reading. You won’t ever get to know your neighbours if you never see them. Spaces like this – front gardens and porches – are called soft edges, and studies show that streets with soft edges feel safer and people tend to stay in them longer. Just being out in front of your house gives a welcoming vibe that encourages interaction. Few people would dare come into your kitchen to say hello, but if you are in your front garden, people may get to know you and you them. Because of my outdoor reading spot, I’ve learned that, upstairs from me, live Peter and his daughter Katrine, and further up lives Majed, who has a fruit store (with delicious peaches), and the last time I met him he was going on his first bike ride in twenty years. Interestingly, noise from neighbours ceases to be annoying once you get to know their names and stories.
4. BUILD A COMMUNITY GARDEN
Your home may not offer any soft edges, but there might be a strip of land in your neighbourhood that can be used to create a small community garden – a time-tested way not only to grow a bunch of fresh veggies but also to cultivate a sense of community and for you to put down roots. Tending to your tomatoes is not only relaxing and meditative, it brings people in the local neighbourhood together and fosters the development of community spirit. In other words, it is a delicious way of creating a village atmosphere in a big city.
In addition, while more research is still needed, studies suggest that gardening has great benefits for our mental health. There is no magic bullet that cures depression, but sometimes the garden can function as the midpoint between the bed and the outside world, taking us – literally – into the light. A few years ago, the Happiness Research Institute were working for a city in Denmark, developing a strategy to improve quality of life for its citizens, and suggested they established community gardens, as one of the main challenges faced by the city was loneliness in the community. We liked the idea so much we wanted to build one ourselves. So we did. At the time, our office was just across from a church that had spare land, so we bought a truckload of dirt, invited the neighbours, spent one Sunday afternoon building twenty raised plant beds and topped it off with a barbecue.
5. START A TOOL-SHARING PROGRAMME
The average power drill is used for only a few minutes per year, so there is no need for all of us to have one at home. Power drills, hammers, four different kinds of screwdriver – they all take up space; not to mention leaf-blowers and snow-blowers. A tool-sharing programme is also a good excuse to get to know your neighbours. In short, sharing your tools with neighbours leads to more resources, more community spirit and less clutter for everyone. When you are putting together the street directory, you can ask what tools people might be interested in borrowing and lending – or, if there is extra space in the basement, create a ‘tool library’ board. Put up a board with some tools on it, for example a hammer and screwdriver, and draw around them. Put in a few nails so that the hammer can hang on the board. Also draw the shapes of the tools that are missing so that your neighbours can contribute their excess tools.
CASE STUDY
SHANI
Shani grew up in Gibson, a small town in Canada, where she would sell raspberries in front of her house for pocket money and neighbours would wave to her as she walked to school.
It was the kind of place where nobody locked their doors, but when she was fourteen her family moved to Australia. She became a teacher – and a nomad, moving from country to country, city to city, longing for the connection with other people she remembered from Gibson.
Later on, working as a school administrator in tough schools with tough kids took its toll on Shani, and she became ill. She was burnt out and clinically depressed. While she was broken in spirit, her partner, Tim, was broken in body. Working as a stonemason and sculptor had left its mark on his shoulders, knees and wrists.
They lived on Hulbert Street, a quiet cul-de-sac with thirty-two houses in it. Hulbert Street is in Fremantle, a suburb of Perth in Western Australia, but you could place this street in towns throughout the world and few would notice a difference. It was a normal street, in a normal neighbourhood, in a normal city. Until Shani and Tim ran an environmental education course for their neighbours. Behind it was the idea that community is part of sustainability. Could they turn their street into more of a community?
‘What would we like Hulbert Street to be like? If we could do anything – don’t worry about money, don’t worry about resources, don’t worry about who is going to do what – what would we like to see happen in our street?’
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The grown-ups dreamt of gardening days and weekly afternoon tea, and the kids dreamt of cricket games and soccer matches in the middle of the street. Then a ten-year-old said, ‘I would like a skateboard ramp in the street.’ Well, that is never going to happen, Shani thought.
But, in fact, it was the first thing that did happen, thanks to one of the neighbours, who found some materials and had the skills to make the ramp. The skateboard ramp changed the street from a place you drove your car down to a street you played in.
At the same time, the street was plagued by burglaries, and there was some concern – especially for Anna, who was eighty-four and living by herself at the end of the street. ‘So we developed what we call the Hulbert Street skill register. It was a contact list initially, but it stretched beyond that: what do you have to share – and what do you need,’ Shani explains.
It contained the address, names, emails and phone numbers of residents and, more importantly, the skills and resources that people had – and the skills and resources that they might need. One of the resources one person needed was people to help him eat mulberries because, in the mulberry season, he had too many. It also meant that no one needed to buy a wheelbarrow – you could borrow one from Brian in number 33. And if you needed a trolley you could borrow it from Philip in number 29. And, of course, Obi at number 23 will babysit your cat.
The register revealed that three ladies would like to learn more about singing – and an ex-choir mistress also lived on the street – so, naturally, they formed the Hulbert Street Choir.
Patches of land around the street were planted with vegetables – and so the Hulbert Street Guerrilla Garden was created. Soon, it would not be uncommon for people to come home and find potatoes and carrots on their doorsteps. ‘How did you get the permission?’ people would ask Shani. ‘Permission, do you think I need permission?’ she would reply, and, based on that philosophy, the Hulbert Street Movies started – once a month, they would watch a movie together in the street. People brought their own chairs and a contribution to the pot-luck dinner.