One of the things I've struggled with since we sold our condo and moved into our house is the lack of community we've experienced. When we moved last August, we anticipated that we'd get to know our neighbors and that Wild Man and Bear would play with the other kids on the street, as there are several around their ages. That, however, did not happen. Very few of the neighbors came over to introduce themselves, and it soon became clear that our schedules were very different from most of our neighbors (we were gone all day during the week, and our boys are almost always in bed by 7:30 or 8:00 whereas many of the neighborhood children are out playing much later). We did not send Wild Man to the neighborhood school, which complicated things. Over the course of the year, we met a few of the neighbors, and one of the first questions everyone asked was, "What grade is Wild Man in?" That was followed by "Where does he go to school?" Every time Archer and I explained that he was currently enrolled at a school close to CU and that when he started Grade 1 he would be going to the local French Immersion school rather than our neighborhood school. The reactions we witnessed were immediate. The people we spoke with were consistently taken aback, and everyone always tried to reassure us how good the neighborhood school is, which we know. In fact, we chose this house because the school is so good, thinking that we'd end up sending the boys there if FI didn't work out. But we felt judged, as though we thought we were too good for the neighborhood school.
Fast forward a year. I finally feel a sense of community, and it is all because of the bus stop. We've met several families through the bus stop, which is about three blocks away from our house. While none of the families are on our street (we are the only family on our street sending our children to the FI school), all are within walking distance. And each of these families are sending their children to the FI school for the same reasons we are. As we got to know everyone, we learned something really interesting. Every parent at the bus stop was a professional. There are two lawyers, one teacher, an executive at a local corporation, another executive who commutes between CU Land and a city in the States, and a small business owner. Moreover, two families employ nannies, and both parents work in all the families. Also, the moms and the dads split drop off and pick up duties. On our street, the situation is very different. We've learned that most people on our street would be defined as "working class." Four of the moms stay at home, one dad works with a heating company, another installs alarm systems, and another is a foreman for a construction company. With one exception, the moms walk the kids to and from school (the school is 2 blocks away), and one mom actually runs a home daycare. It seems, from a class perspective, that we don't fit in on this street.
I'm not sure where I'm going with this. I do know this: I come from a working class background, as does Archer. My dad was a firefighter, and my mom was a secretary. Archer's dad worked in a factory (although he worked he way up to upper management), and his mom was also a secretary. Although we've both gone on to get graduate degrees and have academic careers, we were not expected to do that. My parents wanted me to be a teacher, and Archer's parents wanted him to work at the same factory his dad did (because doing so would keep us close to them). My point is that we're both comfortable with our roots, so to speak. We've gone out of way to introduce ourselves to our neighbors; we've tried to coordinate playdates for Wild Man and Bear with the other kids in the neighborhood. We've participated in neighborhood gatherings. We decorate when everyone else does. We say hello and goodbye, and we generally try to be neighborly. But none of our overtures have been well received. It's hard to live on a street in which we really don't know anyone, despite our attempts to know people. I find myself increasingly thankful for our bus stop community every day.
2 comments:
Hi -
I live in a VERY working class community. The university is small and has almost no impact on the surrounding community. After months of receiving disdainful reactions from people once I told them I was a professor, I started referring to myself as a "teacher." When, and if, people would ask where I teach, I would then tell them at the university. Some would then ask more questions in a polite inquisitive way, but many would simply reply 'oh' and then never talk to me again. Several of my professional friends have experienced the same sort of push-back from the community when they learn that they are professionally employed. It's hard not to start to make uncomfortable class assumptions.
WOW... that's fascinating. We live in a three street development/neighborhood that had been originally designed as a retiree haven (two blocks from Golf Course) and there are still many retirees, but slowly but surely people with younger children are moving into the neighborhood.
Our sons don't go to the local (mostly rural since our town has 2,000 people only) school, but they play with the neighbor boys across the street (they're a lovely Mormon family) and one boy from the street in the back of us whose dad is a vice-president of a local phone company. I think we fit in OK, though we don't have lots of friends. I'm sorry you guys are experiencing this, but I'm glad you have the bus stop community! Can you try to get together with those folks once in while?
P.S. we have something else to add to the class/work equation -- we're immigrants from a different part of the world! :) (I know you're immigrants too, but from a slightly similar country, same language)
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