Archives for posts with tag: community

Having been a fan of The High Line since I first laid feet on it, I have often posted photos and videos of it here, on Flickr, and on Facebook.

This TED talk is a concise explanation by co-founder Robert Hammond of what it was, how it came to be now, and some aspects of what it’s doing for New York City.

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My sons were fascinated in Riverside Park a couple weekends ago when they happened upon thousands of ants doing…something…together. As one.

This video has something to say about the ‘wisdom of crowds’ and what can be created through collaborative force.

In other words, what a community can do.

Recently, we engaged in a conversation with other charitable giving professionals about the differences in spending money, giving, and saving, for urbanites versus ex-urbanites. They are substantial, and yet they are not the focus of this post. Instead, we want to draw attention to Rachel Botsman and her TEDxSydney 2010 talk (video below). We really like the ideas of ‘collaborative behaviors’ and ‘trust mechanics.’ And we feel they are best played out in densely populated global cities.

‘Technology,’ Botsman claims, like Swaptree.com and others (like eBay, the grandfather of them all), ‘is enabling trust between strangers.’ Botsman claims further that we are moving from consumers, to creators to collaborators, thanks to the Internet. We would take issue only, and strongly, with her notion that our collaborative instincts come from being monkeys in our early years. We believe that our common human ancestry, with its concomitant call to cultivate the world, endues us with a divine call to collaborate. We believe that it is this genesis that animates and spurs us on.

Yet, to agree with Botsman in the end, much of our unthinking consumption goes into buying something like the power drill, which is used for 12-13 minutes in its entire lifetime, when what we need is not the drill per se, but the hole. Give it a look:

Seed for the City also commends to you Lewis Hyde’s seminal work ‘The Gift.’ Oddly enough, the collaborative consumption possible in urban areas and across the Internet somewhat owes its power to the practice of gift cultures stemming from tribal and traditional cultures dating back thousand of years.

A fellow parent at my children’s school was telling me about the older Italian woman who was her landlord when she lived in Boston’s North End about twenty years ago.

“So she invited me in for lemonade one day and we had a nice chat. And then she said, ‘You know, I realize you’re just getting started in your career, and so I’m sorry about this but I’m afraid I’m going to have to raise the rent.’ So I thought for a minute and remembered the elderly couple below me and my roommate. They were on a fixed income and this would be really tough on them.

“I asked my landlord about them. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I’ve been worried about what will happen when I raise their rent, but I don’t know what else I can do.’ The man who lived below me was a fixture in our community; everyone knew him. He would even save my parking place by sitting in a chair out front, and nobody ever bothered him. He’d been very kind, you know? So I said to my landlord, ‘Why don’t you just add the difference in their rent to our new rent. We can cover it. We’ll just drink less beer.’”

My friend had absorbed the cost.

I had two takeaways from her story. The first was that true generosity is cheerfully paying for something that someone else owes, but cannot afford, especially when it is a hardship to do so. Jesus did this for us, and he did it for those who had not ‘been kind’ but rather for those who were estranged, like lost sheep. Disobedient. Clueless. He cheerfully gave to us out of love, though it cost him everything.

The second takeaway was how powerful a strong community can be, both positively and negatively. My friend’s landlord, she recounted with laughter, would stop her on the street and say, “I didn’t see you at church this week!” And her landlord and others from the neighborhood, which was racially quite homogenous, would also look askance at her when she brought overseas friends from a different culture to visit. They’d ask her about it and she’d explain that she was showing them what a great place it was to live.

Within the church, there can be both loving accountability and also sanctimonious judgmentalism. In the community that Jesus has redeemed and which the Spirit is making holy, there is no room for fear of the ‘other.’ Rather, there is a generosity of spirit, which has a concern for others before ourselves (Philippians 2:3). And there is a generosity of self, which makes us vulnerable, even as Jesus himself was when he asked his disciples at Gesthemane to ‘stay here and keep watch with me’ (Matthew 26:38b). This redeemed community generously and boldly carries others’ burdens and also fearlessly and humbly lets others help carry our own.

What can we each be doing in our neighborhoods to demonstrate both generosity and community?

+ In your circle of friends think creatively and proactively about individuals’ needs that you hear about. Pool funds or resources to meet them.

+ If you are a Christian, during Lent plan to give something up and give that something to another.

+ Let your friends know when you need help—be specific.

+ Be aware of your neighbors’ needs in your building. Surprise an elderly or poor neighbor with a gift that they couldn’t afford. Or an intangible one they can’t reciprocate.

+ Stop and talk with people on your street. Meet the business owners or workers. Greet and thank the local firefighters or police officers.

What if someone actually tooks seriously the words, sell what you have and give to the poor? As you watch this, doesn’t it make you want to have this kind of bravery and faith?

While the benches rising from the plank walks as though organically grown ‘were a conceit of the ‘90s and early oughts,’ nevertheless Craig and I thought that The High Line would indeed pass muster with such city luminaries as Jane Jacobs.

Jacobs, I had pointed out, was rightly concerned that parks—of which this could technically be classified as one—unguarded at night can invite unsavory characters to them under cover of dark. Given that The High Line is elevated, and gated, it doesn’t carry that same liability.

We agreed that Jane, as co-founder Robert Hammond said in an interview, would have liked it.

music: William Orbit

You may not realize that Central Park is teeming with ‘biological seed dispersal agents,’ as Wikipedia refers to squirrels.

When a squirrel takes an acorn and buries it at a distance from the tree for future use, the acorn effectively ‘dies.’ If the squirrel doesn’t remember to come back and eat the acorn, it will germinate and become an oak tree in time. After twenty years, the tree will be mature enough to produce acorns of its own, although oaks must sometimes be 40-50 years old before producing a successful seed crop.

A gift is like a seed.

We give these gifts, like acorns, and we die to their alternate use. A gift of money—by way of its transformative death, a metamorphosis—converts the cash from potential to kinetic energy. A group of hedge fund managers give millions each spring to fund New York City nonprofits. An elderly lady gives $100 each month from her social security check to the Bowery Mission to help the poor on the Lower East Side. A widow of a fast food chain bequeaths her billions, a portion of which is donated to the Salvation Army in inner city Boston to build a community center. Acts like these are the trunk, branches and leaves of a new oak tree in New York and cities like it.

A zen koan reads, ‘What the caterpillar calls “the end,” the Master calls “a butterfly.”’ Jesus said shortly before his death, ‘I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds’ (John 12:24).

When we live for the sake of others, we find true life, which the Greeks called zoë.

photo: andy laing