Front Porch Sitting 101

I never attended summer camp.

I offer this as a confession of sorts. I know that we love our camps here in Wilmette. We go to workshops; the Park District has classes and opportunities for all ages. March is drawing to a close and from the youngest to the oldest of us we likely have our summers planned out already. We know where we will be at camp. We’re probably even excited about it.

It would be a lie if I said that it didn’t bother me, my historic lack of summer camp. Yet, I still don’t go away in the summer if I can help it. I don’t enroll in a class. I grew up in the South and have never gotten over this instinctive desire to do as little as possible from June to August.

I know. It’s almost never that hot up here. And though we experience some humidity, until I hear the meteorologist use the words “super saturated,” I’m not buyin’. And yet I instinctively slow down. I can’t help it. I’m waiting for the summer doldrums. Ever since I moved to Chicago-land fifteen years ago, I have been at war with myself each and every summer.

I enroll in a class, but I won’t go. I’ll pledge to go to the lake and frolic. Nope. It just doesn’t happen. Grilling always happens, but that’s a different story. I just want to fit in. I just want to be with everyone else. Is that so bad? No, of course not. But this summer will be different.

As much as this may place me out of step with some of my neighbors, I’ve decided that this will be the summer that I embrace my natural proclivity completely. I’m not fighting it anymore. This summer I shall sit.

This is not a column about slowing down and taking stock. I assume you have read that one. I assume that you have your reasons for slowing down or ignoring the advice to do so. So, let’s not belabor that particular point. I do want to share with you, however, that this slowing down was communal. Sitting brought us together.

Where I come from there are porches on the front of houses. Yes, the front. In fact, sometimes we even used them as places to gather. We would serve our neighbors sweet tea and cookies.

Ray Bradbury wrote these words in his book Fahrenheit 451:

"No front porches. My uncle says there used to be front porches. And people sat there sometimes at night, talking when they wanted to talk, rocking, and not talking when they didn't want to talk. Sometimes they just sat there and thought about things, turned things over. My uncle says the architects got rid of the front porches because they didn't look well. But my uncle says that was merely rationalizing it; the real reason, hidden underneath, might be they didn't want people sitting like that, doing nothing, rocking, talking; that was the wrong KIND of social life. People talked too much. And they had time to think. So they ran off with the porches."

I’ve seen our front porches here in Wilmette. Some of us have glorious front porches! Scarlett O’Hara would envy some of you for your front porch. I love the look of them. But I don’t often see us on them. We’re busy. We’re at summer camp. The summers are short and it’s a great time to be away. But I wonder…

I would like to issue a challenge to those of us with front porches. What if you took advantage of them this summer? Fill your time. Think of it as hosting your own summer camp…a summer camp for sitting, talking, and thinking. That’s what it’s for. Maybe the Village can loan us all rocking chairs. Are there Obama Bucks for rocking chairs? We can make our favorite beverage and offer them to our neighbors. What do you think?

It’s a new summer program. Front Porch Sitting 101: Building Community One Stoop At A Time. Space is limited. Sign up now.