community is

We just watched a little movie called Be Kind, Rewind: a story about a old school corner video store in a beat down Jersey town, on the brink of demolition when all the tapes get erased and they reshoot the movies with a cam corder and home made props and special effects. The real plot is about the neighborhood, about living together in the city, with your neighbors and freaks, quirks and favorite old spots--the lore of the block becoming the blood that runs through your veins. It is a very earnest, idealist movie, and damn near made me cry.

It was so powerful for me personally not because we live in a tightly knit neighborhood now or have any particular nostalgia for a place in misty hindsight, but because it was made by people who clearly believe in the power of film to bring people together. That their art, their craft, their work had a greater benefit, that it wove the people together into a common experience, and that was their real purpose.

This is especially poignant for me because I have been working to rebuild a public plaza in a nearby park for two and half years. Many times I thought that there is no way this is going to happen. The inertia of doing nothing, the resistance from the powers that be, the endurance required to overcome the bureaucratic obstacles--it has seemed like a bridge too far. But people in the community have been driving and driving, fund raising, hounding various public officials, and now I really feel like we're going to get it built this summer. If I'd known the heartache and pressure and persistence and madness required to do this kind of work, I'd probably never have volunteered.
And we have a long way to go yet. But something tells me when we finish, I'll be able to feel a pride that will never fade, and that we'll have given something to the citizens and the city that, while very small, is worth it all and more.