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Why Should Others Care If I'm a Dud?
By Ed Vasicek
When I grew up in one of Chicago's older suburbs, I knew my neighbors. We would visit with one another on hot summer nights; we'd sit on our porch as neighbors would stroll by and stop to chat. We enjoyed the annual neighborhood festival sponsored by the local Italian club. The street was closed off and the big bingo ("tombola") game numbers, announced over loudspeakers, could be heard for blocks. A few weeks later, the Lithuanian church sponsored their carnival, complete with rides and amusements.
If an elderly woman were wandering around with dementia, a neighbor would return her to her loving children. Adults were free to scold neighbor's children if they were caught misbehaving; we generally trusted one another.
We had our urban problems, our troubled teens, and even a mild gang (though not very serious by modern definition). But we had a neighborhood-not just people living side by side, but a neighborhood. You may not have always liked your neighbors, but you knew them.
Even growing up from age 5 to 10 (1961-1966) I saw things deteriorate quickly. Now in 2001, it is not unusual for folks to know none of their neighbors. Growing numbers have isolated themselves. We are becoming a nation of social and relational "duds." Remember the old jingle (to the tune of "Pretty Baby"), "Every party needs a pooper, that's why we invited you, party pooper?" But what's wrong with being a dud? It doesn't hurt anyone else, or does it? I insist it does hurt others!
Greetings, and welcome to another installment in our "Social Connectedness" series. Previously I discussed how social isolation hurts us individually: it promotes unhappiness and poor health. Today, I would like to start looking at how social isolation hurts our neighborhoods and our community.
I have known several victims of crime, and all of us are touched by it in one way or another. But did you know that being socially isolated-not talking to your neighbors, not belonging to clubs or community groups-promotes crime?
Studies done in some of Chicago's rougher neighborhoods are enlightening. Robert Putnam in his book, "Bowling Alone," writes:
"...two characteristics-mutual trust and altruism among neighbors, and their willingness to intervene when they see children misbehaving-went a long way to explain why some neighborhoods are less crime prone than are others....Reductions in violence appear to be more directly attributable to informal social control and cohesion among residents..."
Also interesting is the correlation between what authorities call "social capital," (connections between individuals as measured in voluntary organizations, gatherings, friendships, etc.) and regional crime. Social capital tends to vary state by state (Indiana is somewhere near the middle), but the South tends to be the weakest region; people in the South are much less likely to participate in voluntary organizations, card parties, socialize, etc. As a result, one is twice as likely to be murdered in the South than in the North, even when other factors are held constant.
What does all this mean? When people stay to themselves everyone suffers. The World War II generation has taken more responsibility for community than the generations that have followed. Generation X is horribly uninvolved, and Baby-boomers (my generation) has only done somewhat better. Maybe it is time for us to realize that we are to do more than occupy space: we need to recognize that WE are the unofficial trustees of our society.
When we hear of repeated high school shootings in affluent neighborhoods (and we can expect to keep hearing of them), we discover that the perpetrators of such atrocities are not poor, disadvantaged youth, but young people who are isolated, whose best friends are the video player and internet. As long as parents are only concerned about their private lives (and not society at large), we can expect the isolation problem to grow. And we all pay for it. If you are isolated, maybe you are not the innocent victim you think you are. You are part of the problem, not the solution.