Corrigan's discussion about shaping the future of Q as a co-op wandered into the questions of community involvement.
Although service projects have been introduced as a pleasing vague concept, concerns about selection of specific projects arose in parallel. Projects completed, time and money donated in the name of Q, speak to the neighborhood ostensibly on behalf of the interests and values of Q members. How do we choose a project of any impact that encompasses (or at least acknowledges) the diverse positions of our membership? And what about members who prefer we not make such statements at all?
Bernard, once attending a board meeting at which these concerns were articulated, responded, "I think your resistance is to a very narrow definition of community service."
Personally, I feel a few service projects a year recruiting volunteers from our organization does not bind any disinterested members into obligatory statements of personal politics. In fact collaborative community outreach happens informally all the time, as those of us invite our extended co-op family into our activities and friendships outside the walls of our three houses. BJ and Lisa attended David's sermon. Lauren suggested I present bookbinding to her public middle school students. Crystal introduced her tutoring student, a young woman with FAS, to Megan, who befriended the girl and taught her guitar.
Some folks argue that service projects formally sponsored by the board present different implications. Others reply that social responsibility to emphasize community is inherent to the co-op or IC system.
The compromise is to form a Service Project/Community Committee made (hopefully) of non-board members to research, organize and advertise semi-annual projects for interested co-opers. Whether people volunteer is another story; we originally WERE an extremely neighborhood-involved co-op. Everyone likes the notion of volunteer work, but who has the time, eh? Yet how the heck ELSE will we get to know our HP comrades?
......
When someone's bike scratched a six-inch line into the paint of our neighbors' new Yukon this summer, the classic neighborly dispute was compounded by the ideological divide between Haymarket and the retired Ames couple.
In one corner, they were driving a new polluting eco-nightmare purchased to replace their former gas-guzzling eco-nightmare (which apparently was donated to their grandson, who shall doubtless rise to the challenge of hotboxing a vehicle the size of a football stadium).
In another corner, we are a group of weirdos who chat loudly on the porch about sex and organic vegetables, and who don't seem to give a damn about the aesthetics of our garage door whose crumbles aren't quite charming enough to euphamistically qualify as antique-chic.
Plus the faces are ever-rotating, any friendly hellos in new accents with every successive season.
In the end, the incident provided an opening for dialogue with the Ames', who in fact signed the original petition to allow our home to become Haymarket 15 years ago. Then, members were heavily involved in the Co-Op Markets & neighborhood meetings. The Ames' knew everyone by name. Now we are simply the crazy kids next door... two of whom brought a check for repairing the beast of a truck. Since Corrigan's name is so weird, I suppose, Mrs Ames latched onto Megan, who mentioned puzzles at random during a conversation. Since then, we've found bags of puzzles left on the house porch, addressed to Megan... who has also moved away by now.
......
To those of us living in Haymarket, the time is thick with adventure and the community tight-knit. Even a few months in the house either seems to coincide with or initiate significant change for all who live here; we don't think of our time as fleeting. But our membership is relatively short term.
BJ spoke up at the meeting, thoughful. "I'm not sayin' this isn't a good idea to get involved. But I wonder how realistic it is to believe our involvement can get very complex when we have such a volatile high turnover membership. Like, how worth it is it for a 40-year-old with two kids to reach out to folks who will be leavin' within a year or two?"
He paused. "After the first round of livin' here, you resist gettin' too attached again. It's hard."
I thought of Eli's recent questions: How are the new people integrating? Who is BJ closest to these days? And I answered about my new housemates but couldn't speak as to who BJ socializes with most, perhaps because he is protecting himself from socializing too much with anyone.
Resistance to social codependency does not produce a bad housemate. BJ is the opposite: a respectful listener and thoughtful friend to us all.
But there is a reason that Ed moved out before this year's major turnover, which would have marked his fourth shift in majority of housemates. There is a reason there are tensions and stresses as everyone defines their space and fits her lifestyle into the people puzzle of quirks, neuroses, and strengths. In this plaid pattern of personalities, it takes time and some awkward moments, to achieve balance... and balance then tips as we watch someone drive away and hang our next welcome sign.
We are relatively high turnover co-op. Whether we're deciding the relative worth of community service legacy, or determining how to respond to an imposing request of a new member, the questions are fated to be asked but never easily answered. Collective memory being so short term means we lose grasp of answers forged before us, but at least each generation gets an opportunity to try and hammer it out ourselves. This is the beautiful, brave, chaotic co-op spirit.
