The Right to Privacy

I'm home with the kids for a few days because school is out and day camp is not yet in. We spent several hours at the park yesterday and I got to observe a group of pre-school moms with their young ones. As they all got ready to leave, I watched them pack their gear into their mostly SUV-type cars and take off.

I remember doing that. I stayed home with my boys for about two years when they were very small. I really loved my jeep then because I could fit everything I needed into it--diaper bags, snacks, kids, dogs. We could go where I wanted when I wanted. I was ready for anything in those days, and I didn't need anyone to help me.

I'm realizing that our cars give us freedom, but I'm finding that they also give us a strange sense of privacy. As long as you can get around on your own steam, you don't have to explain yourself to other people.

One day, when I was walking home from the bus stop, my next-door neighbor picked me up. She is in the unique position of watching my comings and going fairly closely.

"So, where is your car?"

(I'm in her car, right? She's doing me a favor. I can't exactly say 'none of your beeswax!' Not very friendly, or gracious.)

"Oh, my friend Judi has it. I take the bus to work." Yes, slightly evasive, but I'm a lawyer, I'm trained in evasive.

"Do you get it back on the weekends so that you can run your errands and things?"

Crap, she's got me. I decide to go for it--we're only as sick as our secrets, right?

"Well, no, this is embarrassing, but . . ." and I give her the short version.

She's pretty cool about it, and I get the impression she's been suspecting something of the sort and I've only just confirmed it for her.

I shared the information with one of my kids' friends' moms the other day. We had been talking about letting the kids go to the Boys' and Girls' club for a few weeks in the summer, instead of the day camp at the school. This, of course, presents a transportation problem for me. I told her I wasn't going to be able to carpool because I wouldn't be driving this summer. She didn't ask, but I told her anyway. She smiled ruefully. "Yeah, well, I've done a lot worse." And shaking her head, "A lot worse...." I didn't ask. But she offered to drive the kids, and I can't believe her kindness.

Have people always been this nice? What the hell is wrong with me that I didn't know this? I'm really going to have to work on this attitude that one can't ask for help, essentially because people will think you're an evil leech. In the last two months, the exact opposite has proven to be true.

People are thrilled to help--I know I love it when I can. It's like we are all starving for community and we want to reach out but we're stuck in our cars and our houses without front porches and we can't interact the way maybe we once did. Are we so concerned with protecting our privacy that we are losing our community? Why don't the moms going to the park ever ride together?

Why can't we all just get along?

Just kidding--the devolution into a boring rant needed to be stopped.

But I am curious about whether the desire for privacy blocks the building of community.

In the meantime, I better get these kids out of the house before the dog starts chewing on them.