Together apart — connecting community through sociable distancing
When I returned from a trip to the Italian Alps in early March, rather than return to my shared flat in London, I headed up to Nottingham to spend the next two weeks in isolation with my parents who I had been on holiday with.
In any normal situation, I would have returned to my job in Dagenham, where I’m working with local community members in Becontree Heath on a ‘Low Emission Neighbourhood’ project through on-street interventions (find out more about the Greening the Fiddlers project here).
Shortly before going on holiday, conversations in the neighbourhood led to plans to put up a community noticeboard to share designs and sketches, local information, and to act as a focal/meeting point for walks and bike rides. Though the country had not yet gone into lockdown at this point, people had already been encouraged to stay at home and keep their distance. For many, social and work life now existed in the digital sphere — the noticeboard therefore became a way to connect people offline and asynchronously while maintaining social distancing in the community. We’ll call it sociable distancing.
Knowing that I was to be stuck 150 miles away from Dagenham for the next two weeks (this was a few weeks before nationwide lockdown, so I really did think it’d just be two weeks!) and unable to continue face-to-face work in the Becontree, I decided to use the time to create a prototype outside my parents’ house. I figured, if anything, it’d be a good way to get to know the neighbours…
I acquired some wood pallets from Norm and Emma across the street and set to work. Without being able to visit a hardware shop, I had to make do with scrap wood lying around at home and filmed the process to share with residents to inspire similar projects (and I’ve always wanted to be a Blue Peter presenter, obvs). After a few hours, I managed to create a very DIY-looking noticeboard, carried it out on the street, and sat by the living room window to see what happened.
Within a few hours, people pinned up running routes and info on local business deliveries, offers of dog walking or prescription collection appeared, books found their way onto the shelf, and plant cuttings were swapped. A few days later, copies of an amazing ‘corona creations’ colouring book were left out, a new book-storage unit was built, BBC Radio Nottingham featured the story on their morning show. But best of all people were stopping to chat with neighbours they’d never met, taking detours on their daily walks to see what was new.
#ViralKindess
While people were urged to stay at home, ‘viral kindness’ spread across the country as mutual aid groups popped up to support vulnerable and self-isolating citizens. Though it shouldn’t take a global pandemic for citizens to connect, one upside of the virus has been the mobilisation of community aid and people connecting in ways they may never have done before.
In the early days, news of people panic-buying instilled a sense of worry in me — were people morphing into self-preserving ‘preppers’? No, instead, this virus is triggering community action across the globe and “has turned us into caring neighbours”, as George Monbiot writes in the Guardian.
Offline connectivity in an online world
Last week, Street Space hosted a conversation with community engagement practitioners, acknowledging how we are all grappling with the loss of connectivity and the richness of face-to-face interaction that makes our community work tick. We explored the possibilities that might emerge in the changing engagement landscape, and how we can add richness to online engagement and also connect with people offline during times of social isolation.
London-based make:good have come up with amazing postal kits that are sent out to participants ahead of a workshop (on or offline!) to help them bring ideas to life; Leeds’ Slung Low people’s theatre are opening a gallery featuring art from the people of Leeds, exhibited on the city’s lampposts; and gallery spaces have moved exhibitions online while still posting physical catalogues to attendees ahead of time so they could virtually walk through the show while looking at real-life information.
Take A Part, an arts-based community cohesion organisation in Plymouth, have pulled together a brilliant open-source document cataloguing various non-digital ways to engage communities (with a few analog/digital combos). Ideas include creating an open air gallery on a wall or park bench, seed sharing for a virtual sunflower-growing competition, or chalking the names of tree species onto the pavement in front of them. Add your own ideas to the mix!
Temporary intervention, permanent impact
Back to the noticeboard… Last Friday, a new pin up appeared:
Community Board Public Design Competition.
“The competition is to design a permanent community board in reaction to the amazing response the current temporary one has had. Our aim is to produce something that the community can wrap their hearts around and fall in love with”.
Thought up by the local residents association and headed up by Norm — local designer and giver-of-pallets — the competition is open to anyone, and will certainly spawn a permanent fixture in the community that’s more glamorous than my splintered wood and rusty nail efforts!
The enthusiasm from the local community and this resulting competition shows the importance of tactical urbanism, and how low-cost and temporary interventions can bring about lasting change. Not every temporary project is a game changer, but small ideas like this can lead to bigger things.
Of course, what works for the streets and residents of this Nottingham neighbourhood might not work in Becontree Heath. But testing things out with an open heart and mind is the first step. And if all of this was possible to do with limited resources while socially distancing under lockdown, then I look forward to seeing what we can do together in the future.
I spoke about this project and other offline engagement tools as part of the Architecture Foundation’s 100 Day Studio programme. You can watch the event recording here — I spoke from 41mins in.
