New Yorkers are resilient, this much we know. But optimistic? Well, that feels more like a west coast kind of thing. And here’s something else that we’re not particularly known for: neighborly love. Because let’s be honest, most of us don’t even know our neighbors’ names (you know, beyond “guy who likes to burn his toast every morning”), let alone feel comfortable enough to borrow a cup of sugar.
Yet during this pandemic, I’m feeling optimistic about the bonds I’ve formed with my neighbors. Pre-pandemic, we might have exchanged pleasantries while taking out the trash or nodded to each other at the grocery store. But once we went into lockdown, and my neighbors were basically the only people I would see all day (or week!), we went from a casual “Hey” every so often to checking in on the daily about how the other was feeling, lamenting over the lack of childcare and—lately—even dreaming of getting the hell out of the city and forming our own commune upstate. In fact, we’ve gotten to know the family next door so much that when they recently went out of town for a couple of weeks, they gave us a spare key to their place (which is basically the New York neighbor equivalent of a marriage proposal). And I’m not the only one feeling the neighborly love.
Stoops have become community hotspots. Locals are singing outside of their windows and balconies to rapturous applause. Notice boards are filled with offers to help elderly and vulnerable populations.
“My neighbors are like my only friends now,” one Williamsburg resident tells us.