The apartment I was born in was off a dead-end street in Queens, New York. My parents referred to the street as “The Magic Street”. It gained its magic because of the lack of speeding cars coming in and out. The light traffic gave my parents peace of mind when we were outside. I felt special because I got to do something I wasn’t supposed to do. We lived in the area until I was 5 years old. I was sad to leave my unique play situation. But the true fun wouldn’t come until we moved to the other side of town.

My new apartment wasn’t a quiet block. We lived off a busy road and could no longer run amuck. That loss of freedom was exchanged for a large group of children my age. When my family arrived in the neighborhood, we knew another family on the street, so we fit in easily. A community began to build among the parents on the street.

The neighbors nicknamed our street “The Block.” The kids clicked for the most part when we hung out together. We entertained ourselves in the dirt patches on the sidewalk, played house, and even hosted a wedding. The kids decided that my brother and my best friend’s sister would get married. They were 5 and 3 years old. It was the wedding of the century. The entire block got involved to help us put it together. Both kids and parents had their roles to play at the wedding we planned. It is my favorite memory from that time in my life.

As I grew up, I realized the magic wasn’t exclusive to the gaggle of kids I hung out with. That neighborhood taught me what a true community looked like. Block parents didn’t look out for only their kids. They kept a watchful eye on the rest of us when we were outside, too. The quote, It takes a village to raise a child, was true in our case. They fed us, ensured we behaved, and kept us out of harm’s way.

The block had its fair share of hazards when you lived in a major city. It meant nefarious things happened. The adults safeguarded our street. All threats were gone, thanks to the strength in numbers. It didn’t matter what parent was out, if any kid was in trouble, someone would be there to help. Our little community never hesitated to take care of everyone, even if they weren’t direct family members. It’s that kind of care that created the environment we needed to enjoy the great childhood we did. We were worry-free kids that lived in the borough of a city.

The bonds forged on that street remain and comprise some of my closest friendships today. I was a product of a loving community and it left a major impact that carried into my adult life. It’s gifted me the values of compassion, connection, and care. The world changed from when I was a little girl, but I hope to take those values into my forged community one day.