The New Jewish Neighborhood (Part 2)

The sociologist Ray Oldenburg calls parks, coffee shops, libraries and other shared urban venues “third places” (home is the first place and work the second place).  His contention is that the health of a given city can be measured by the strength and prevalence of these “third places.”

In the 1930’s during the height of the Depression, residents of my neighborhood would venture into Druid Hill Park on hot and humid nights to sleep by the lake.  It is a summer tradition that has long since been abandoned, but the park, our “third place,” remains an essential resource for those of us who live in Reservoir Hill.

Today, after what we native mid-westerners would call a “healthy” snow fall but that Baltimoreans might call a blizzard, Miriam and I took our two children, joined another Reservoir Hill (and Beth Am) family and went sledding in the park.  We found a lovely, mostly treeless, hill on the frisbee-golf course and took turns trudging up and zipping down the hill on our inflatable snow tube.  I’ve heard it’s an urban myth (that’s English for bubbe meiseh) that the Inuit people of Alaska have a hundred words for “snow,” but if they did, today’s accumulation would be called that-which-is-firm-enough-for-tubing-yet-perfect-for-building-persons-of-snow-descent. It was a glorious morning culminating in a perfect cup of hot chocolate.

The preservation and betterment of community are core Jewish values.  But could it be that the New Jewish Neighborhood is defined, in part, simply by a willingness to show up – to pull on the snow boots, blow up the snow tube and trudge through the virgin snow with friends?  Sacred communities must have goals and collective, achievable dreams, but being together ought to precede doing together.  Some move to the suburbs to have more space.  People like me, who grew up in the suburbs, move to the city not to have space but to share it. 

2 thoughts on “The New Jewish Neighborhood (Part 2)

  1. You are describing a good way of life that cities provide, that suburbs largely took away. When I was litlle, my grandparents took me to DH Park at least once a week in the summer, for picnics. It was great. Still is!

    Like

  2. Why do you assume that because I live in the suburbs, that I don't share space with my neighbors? We have a community playground, neighborly barbecues and impromptu beer drinking on the front porch, and we also look out for one another. True, I can't readily walk to a grocery store, and I may have to drive to a community concert, but I don't think the suburbs are as devoid of community as you make it sound.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s