Last year I relocated to Boston after spending 10 years in
Washington. The move has forced me to make countless adjustments, chief among
them the ordinance in my town that prohibits overnight street parking.
Due to the restriction, I now park my car 10 minutes from my
apartment. To make matters even more inconvenient, the car sits at the top of a
road aptly named Summit Avenue. If I want to use my car, I have to climb one and
a half miles up a steep incline.
Needless to say, I've become a pedestrian.
To my surprise, commuting on foot has had an unanticipated
consequence — it's changing the way I think about the world and my place in it,
particularly about what it means to be a neighbor.
I came of age when the slogan "Think global, act local"
was gaining traction. My peers and I were formed to think about how our
personal decisions and actions had far-reaching effects beyond what we could
see.
As we got older, the cultural philosophy morphed into something
more like "Think global, act global." Colleges and universities began
educating us to be global citizens, encouraging us to study abroad and pursue
careers that could alleviate any number of injustices that members of the human
family faced around the world.
The advent of Facebook, YouTube and other social media platforms
brought us into virtual contact with people from other countries and
hemispheres. The 24/7 news cycle squeezed out local news to deliver national
and international issues to us. Global citizens need global information, data
and analysis. Boy did we get it.
A framework of mass-interconnectedness has had its upsides. It
has brought some of the best minds from around the world together to solve
complex ecological, sociological and political problems. In some cases, it has
helped us to extend greater empathy and solidarity to others, to acknowledge
shared values and common bonds.
But such philosophy risks placing upon us an impossible burden,
both in scale and proximity. How can you be sure that you've ever fulfilled the
command to "love thy neighbor" if the answer to the question,
"Who is my neighbor?" is "everyone?"
There is no shortage of weighty issues that need to be tackled —
human trafficking, drug addiction, sexual abuse and corruption for starters. I
often find myself feeling paralyzed by the depth and breadth of the burdens
that people bear, of which I am made aware every time I reach for my phone.
My new reality — traveling on foot — has made me consider the
merits of scaling back the scope of my responsibility, perceived or expected as
it may be.
Excluding my newsfeeds, my world has gotten a lot smaller in
radius. It extends only as far as I can walk in a day or as far as the subway
can take me. And that reality has created opportunities for encounters with
people in the flesh, whose burdens I can alleviate and whose joys I can share.
My regular route to the grocery store now puts me in touch with
elderly pedestrians, many of whom need a hand carrying items or help crossing
the street. I can't fix the loneliness epidemic of an entire aging population,
but I can walk with someone for half a mile to his bus stop.
And while I cannot rectify a complex and comprehensive epidemic
of homelessness, my husband and I can stop every week after Mass and give a cup
of coffee to Pat, a homeless man who hangs out at our T stop and likes to take
jabs at my sports allegiances.
Getting to know my neighbors — and by that I mean those who share
with me space and place — has prompted me to stay better informed about them.
For every article I read about a national issue, I make it a point to read an
article about my neighborhood. Before I peruse a story about the global church,
I make sure I've also read my parish bulletin.
The limitation imposed on overnight parking — a local decision —
has provided me with opportunities to do concrete, tangible acts of kindness
for those within a few-mile radius of my doorstep and a chance to know them
personally. It has been an instructive inconvenience to say the least.
Ureneck, associate director of the Center for the Church
in the 21st Century at Boston College, writes the “Finding God in All Things”
column for Catholic News Service.