neighborhood

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(This is the last of my series on national heart month.)

Sharen is the owner of my ‘hood bar and grill. She went to school in the ‘hood, raised her family in the ‘hood, and for the last twenty-some years ran a business in the ‘hood. Her working day begins at 4:40 AM and sometimes doesn’t end until well after 10:00 PM. Most of the time, I’m in awe of her energy.

This month she opened her establishment to the high school baseball booster club for a fundraiser. In fact, she hosts three such fundraisers each year: baseball, pom and cheer, and the marching band. She solicits donations from her vendors, discounts the food and gives the organization a share of the bar business. In three hours the baseball boosters raised almost $4,000 to support the team.

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Sharen said, “I’m from the ‘hood and a huge supporter of public education. Occasionally, I do training for wannabe small business owners, where I remind them to be active contributors to their communities.” She paused, “Sometimes I just wish I could give more. I do the best I can.”

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America is jammed with good hearts. Maybe someday we will applaud them with the same enthusiasm we have for an Oscar winner or a MVP.

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The news runs rampant with stories of building a wall between Mexico and the United States. While the Berlin Wall and the Great Wall of China ultimately did little to prevent infiltration by the “enemy,” the proposed Trump Wall seems to many to be the answer. I find it curious, though, that Canada is not being walled out also. Guess it’s long forgotten that some of the perpetrators of 911 entered that way.

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Yesterday, I was leafing through my ancient English 101 anthology and reread Robert Frost’s Mending Wall. It begins: “Something there is that doesn’t love a wall.” In New England, the spring ritual for many landowners was to mend the wall that nature damaged throughout the winter. Though often a laborious task it was a necessary, annual tradition because “Good fences make good neighbors.” Hmm. I find it paradoxical. Nature battles against the wall. Tradition battles against nature to keep us and even countries apart.

When I moved to Phoenix, I was amazed that most houses had walled backyards. Unlike my Ohio upbringing, where I often roamed through three or four backyards to my friend’s house. We neighborhood kids sledded down our neighbors’ hill every winter; we weren’t walled out.

Unfortunately, I’ve met people with walls. Folk devoid of humor and zest. Folk who prefer to remain within their cramped life without friends and a sense of community spirit. Their self-imposed isolationism boggles me.

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True, I live in a walled community; it keeps my dogs off the street. Some of us with small children fence our pools to prevent child drowning. But my ‘hood has not walled out each other. We socialize, work collaboratively together, and even borrow a cup of sugar when the need arises.

Frost asks: “Why do they make good neighbors? Isn’t it where there are cows? But here there are no cows. Before I built a wall I’d ask to know what I was walling in or walling out.”

Robert Frost penned this poem 103 years ago. Hmm. Our world is no longer a simple fence on a New England acre. What are we mending? Another paradox….

Dr. Suze Espouses

A Greater Heart

The Wall