Not long ago, I had the opportunity to attend a national educator’s conference at which the keynote address was about the "culture" of early childhood education. It was certainly an interesting concept, since I had never heard a profession referred to as a "culture", but as I revisited the notes from that speech, I began to think about how the basic concept of a "culture" could be applied to those who are labeled "neighborhood" people. If a culture can be defined as a group of people who share common experiences, practices and traditions, then those who are active in their neighborhoods do indeed have a kind of society that binds them, despite differences in economics, race, or location.

There is a shared language often not understood by "outsiders" – lingo like "community policing, infrastructure, NBO’s, BZA’s, and code enforcement. Words and acronyms that are so common to us, and so critical to advocating effectively for our neighborhoods, are often foreign to others. We sometimes do not realize that those around us have lapsed into a state of confusion because they do not understand our conversations and often will not ask what something means for fear of displaying some failure on their part to grasp the import of what we are discussing.

We have our own set of historical figures born of our past successes and, unfortunately, our failures. There are those whose measures and dedication we seek to emulate and those about whose practices we feel cynical and combative. And those same people, combined with our own actions, form the scaffolding upon which our volunteer efforts are built, creating irrevocable ties to the "neighborhood culture".

We have an institutional memory - sometimes to the bane of those seated across the table. We draw on past experiences to act as a measure and benchmark for evaluating new ideas and programs. There is no doubt that this is a "shared memory" created and ever growing through the formal occasions where neighborhoods gather as well as the infamous "grapevine" that we use to gather information on people and policies before we venture into an unknown situation.

We share many basic ideals and beliefs, not the least of which is the premise that every single person has the right to expect and defend a high quality of life and that the concept of "public process" in its highest and best form is the most effective and critical element in achieving that quality. And we share a healthy skepticism about others who try to do this "for" us rather than putting us "in the loop" and letting us help do it for ourselves. Regardless of the kind of "neighborhood" in whichwe may live, above all else we know that natural resources must be preserved and that human resources are the most valuable assets we hold.

We have an amazing work ethic and seem to have the ability to expand the normal continuum of time, attending endless meetings and events while juggling family, friends, and work. We tenaciously spend hours analyzing voluminous dry documents full of technical and legal dirges looking for that one buried phrase that could change how neighborhoods engage in the business of governance. We do not accept the word "no" when "yes" is the answer we need.

We are tough and exacting, expecting 150% from those who represent us and even more of ourselves. We are proud of where we live, who we are and from where we came. We are a diverse culture with different races, religions, perspectives and experiences that come together to forge a future on common ground.