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Several years ago, my wife and I decided to leave Brooklyn and find a warm community to settle in and start a family. I am, by happy accident, an expert on neighborhoods and their dynamics, having studied what binds people together in large societies and local communities. Whether working in Nigeria or rural America, I found that large social and political problems develop when social bonds are weak or unravel. In fragile states, these connections are frayed at the national level, but in the United States, we have seen a dramatic weakening of ties at the local level.
Looking to leave Brooklyn, we researched dozens of neighborhoods and eventually moved to the suburbs of Washington, D.C., where our neighborhood has consistently surprised me with its mutual support, abundance of social interaction, and commitment to joint problem-solving. When Covid-19 struck, volunteers distributed food, masks, and medicine to the homebound and set up outdoor play pods for kids. Synagogues organized virtual activities for kids and shifted programs for adults online. Neighbors hosted gatherings in their front yards and encouraged kids to spend time together in the back yards. In sum, neighborliness and helpfulness were the default.
Why do neighborhoods matter so much? For residents, they determine day-to-day relationships, offer help when trouble hits, and provide networks and knowledge for everything from raising children to advancing in a career. Not surprisingly, indicators like life expectancy, crime rates, student test scores, and social mobility correlate with the strength of a neighborhood.
Yet neighborhoods have influence beyond the individual. They affect cities and society as a whole. Good ones can attract talented people, boost the local asset base (and tax revenue), and mold civic habits, norms and expectations. Collectively, they play central roles in the country’s well-being, determining whether it’s economically dynamic, socially vibrant, and equitable.
When neighborhoods fail to perform their basic tasks, social problems multiply. In weak neighborhoods, residents find it hard to get child care in an emergency, join together to keep streets safe, and connect to job opportunities and health care. Individuals who can move away often leave, depleting resources.
Although philanthropists and nonprofits talk a lot about how to overcome America’s great political and racial divides, we often don’t really understand what change should look like. It’s easy to get distracted by big regional or national initiatives that promise scale. But local initiatives that bond people within their own communities are most essential. They are a prerequisite to larger efforts to create bridges that connect people across differences — whether those differences are based on class, race, politics, or rural and urban cultures. Those bonds help people feel secure and offer opportunities to learn the basic skills of any bridging effort — how to collaborate and compromise.
Both bonding and bridging are skills necessary for a healthy democratic culture. And local initiatives can reach many more people than national efforts, as every neighborhood can host them.
How can civic leaders, philanthropists, and neighbors start neighborhood initiatives that foster both bonding and bridging?
Build a network. Recruit local institutions, shops, and nonprofits. In a successful initiative, everyone feels a sense of ownership. Six to seven key players is a great start. In my neighborhood, most of the key institutions typically back larger events — including houses of worship, civic associations, schools, and nonprofits — while restaurants and volunteers provide indirect support.
Start small and joyful. Low-hanging fruit = food + fun + street vibes. A community BBQ or street takeover works wonders. The Neighboring Movement’s 8 Front Doors Challenge encourages each of us to step out, find allies, and create a local get-together. The Australian Institute of Play develops neighborhood backyards and play networks to get kids onto the streets with each other. This brings neighbors together, builds pride of place, and gives everyone a greater sense of agency. Block Party USA offers free tools to help anyone get started on their own streets.
Be a catalyst, not a commander. You’re not leading; you’re listening. Facilitate, don’t dictate. Life Remodeled establishes neighborhood hubs across Detroit that both incubate and bring together nonprofits and other organizations to anchor services and opportunities and catalyze connectivity and community. It learned the hard way that it is better to listen than to lead after it simply announced its first hub and stirred a backlash. Changing tack, the organization focused on establishing relationships and trust. It went door to door, breaking bread with residents and learning their priorities. Then, it hired locals, established two advisory committees, and centered its work around residents and their concerns.
Learn from others. Identify models and tailor them to fit your local context. You don’t have to start from zero. Community Renewal International, a Shreveport, La., nonprofit, uses a three-tier structure to refashion relationships across streets, neighborhoods, and whole cities. Each level encourages caring and trusting norms, promotes mutually beneficial relationships, and discourages unconstructive behavior — building social capital in the process. As CRI founder Mack McCarter says, “Relationships wither if they are not nourished.”
Pick the right moment. Start with an event anchored by a meaningful date or holiday when people naturally gather. In Boston, the city promotes neighborhood gatherings three times a year — for spring cleanup, summer block parties, and fall Halloween events. National Neighborhood Day follows Labor Day, when the weather is good, families are back from holiday, fall routines are getting started, and residents are more likely primed to meet each other.
Keep the meaning alive. Micro-neighborhood efforts can grow into something much deeper. Bonton Farms, whose work sparked the transformation of Dallas’ poorest neighborhood, started as an effort to bring neighbors together to take care of a basic need — healthy food. After a decade, it has turned into one of the country’s largest urban farms, and it has contributed to the establishment of a coffee shop, produce market, health center, financial institution, and a slew of new housing.
Neighborhoods can be engines of change — both for us and for society. But we can no longer count on neighbors to organically collaborate and build institutions and opportunity place by place. We must be much more intentional. We must aim to ensure that every person lives in a “neighborhood of possibilities” — where residents, especially young people and the more vulnerable, can be empowered and thrive. That is the kind of neighborhood that will drive change in America.
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