Morning Cup of Community
By: Amber Manuwa
Hazily opening my eyes, the sunlight filters through the white sheer curtains and fills my bedroom with a beautiful morning yellow. Lying in bed for a few minutes, I hear through my open window a couple of the neighborhood children playing superheroes outside. It’s Saturday morning rising out of bed and walking to the kitchen, I fix myself a cup of tea and munch on some strawberries with sourdough toast. Taking my petite déjuener outdoors, I read the news at the farm table on the grass that has replaced the ripped out asphalt and sidewalk that once made up my street. Contentment and awe bubble up inside me and makes me smile from ear to ear. With the view of the city to my right and the ocean to my left I think, “Life could not get any better than this!” My head suddenly comes down from the clouds “Good morning,” I cheerfully greet the parents of the two little superheroes as they stroll over to join me. Conversation consumes my morning the community garden, the skill resilience program, and the free concert tonight at the town center makes up a few of the topics. As I part ways, I ponder how none of these facets of the neighborhood would of been possible without community involvement and support. Grabbing my basket, which I weaved at the skill resilience workshop, I head to the community garden to forage for a few lunchtime ingredients.
There’s a Community in my Salad
Every step I take along the dirt path towards the garden, I encounter a friendly smile and a jolly “How ya doin?” Finally coming to my destination, I see neighbors and even some visitors from other areas enjoying the sustainable goods produced from the hard-working hands of the people living in my community. The water catchment and treatment ponds terrace down the slope of the hill to the right of the garden, while the green open space on the corner of Geary and Masonic is alive with a diverse amount of people senior citizens, parents, and children chatting, playing, and visiting the vegetable stand. Quickly placing my compost into the communal bin, I notice my friend on his knees gardening away. Sauntering over I stop to pick some tomatoes, kale, and carrots placing them in my basket for the salad I have decided to gobble up for lunch. My buddy I saw working in the garden rises to his feet and says, “Howdy! Are you going to watch me perform tonight?” “I certainly am,” I respond with a huge grin as he hands me a clove of garlic. I continue on with my Saturday errands crossing the now two-lane Geary “living street” with its trees, planters, and benches to swing by the local bakery for some more sourdough. Heading back to my casa I watch as the local teenagers install a recycled art sculpture they created in school for the path along the community garden. I settle in and chop up some kale, carrots, garlic, and a tomato for lunch, I look back on the sights I saw when meandering around my village. The diversity of people engaging in community involvement still astonishes me. A few years ago a Best Buy stood where the garden, vegetable stand, and water treatment ponds now reside. Plus Geary and Masonic were crowded car speedways, but now it has more people and bikes every day than cars in one week. These neighborhood characteristics forged the path for a stronger more resilient community based on hope for a better future. The cooperation of everyone enabled skills, such as gardening and do-it yourself repairs, locally grown food, and the community to flourish. Finished with my thoughts and preparing my lunch, I head out to the farm table again to soak up the last rays of sun for the day.
We are Family
The sun sets and once again I make my way down the hill towards the town center for some music, food, dance, and maybe some heart-to-hearts. It is an unusually warm San Francisco night, perfect for spring on the verge of summer. As I enter the town square I spot my pal from the garden with his acoustic guitar and throw him a wave, I quickly sit down with my next-door neighbors and the two superheroes from this morning. The square booms with chatter and laughter. The band takes the stage and the community falls quiet. Folk music shoots through the air, I sit back, enjoy the music and the company, and whisper, “This is family.”
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