Have you had a NAP lately? Everybody needs one occasionally.
You know… a Neighborhood Association Picnic.
It’s that time of year when enthusiastic, extroverted people drag tables and lawn chairs into the street so everybody can sweat together over plates of sweet corn and blueberry crumb cake. Sometimes there’s a fire truck or a police dog. If you’re really lucky, there’s homemade ice cream or a generous musician who shares songs, maybe a couple of games off to the side for the playful types.
In some neighborhoods spunky, unsupervised kids show up to blow bubbles and toss cornhole bags and to eat more cookies than you can count. They laugh and run and turn an ordinary block into an honest to goodness “event”. In other places the mood is more subdued: two-parts business meeting to two-parts potluck, with a dash of casual conversation.
Whatever form your “NAP” takes, know that it’s a gift to Goshen. Know that it makes us all a little bit stronger and kinder, a bit more equipped to handle the ins and outs of living side by side in a community. In fancy community development language, those NAPs build our “collective efficacy,” meaning they help us nourish the quality of life on our streets. They enhance our ability to advocate for our wants and needs, reduce crime, and even improve our property values. (And you thought you were just having fun with your neighbors.)
If you’re one of those peppy people who made a pie or a cucumber salad to share this summer, if you’ve mixed a jumbo portion of lemon tea or lent your biggest folding table to the cause… cheers to you. And you know what? If you’re one of those people who forgot all about the picnic until you saw it materialize on the street in front of you, but rushed out to join in the fun with empty hands and a full heart… cheers to you, too.
Of course, block parties aren’t the only way to be neighborly. Just this morning I watched through my kitchen window as a self-described “curmudgeon” on my street quietly helped another man clean up the remnants of a major tree branch mishap. The “curmudgeon” isn’t a curmudgeon at all, of course. He’s a warm and friendly, but mostly private, guy who tends to opt out of crowds. So, while I sing the praises of the summer picnic scene, I also tip my hat to the under-the-radar types who “show up” for their neighbors in a million other ways.
(FOOTNOTE: The city has a partnership with LaCasa to make $$ available to develop new neighborhood associations and to promote and nurture existing associations. If you’ve been dreaming about having your own “NAP,” contact LaCasa’s Community Engagement Specialist to learn more. You’ll be glad you did. Promise.)
