Won’t You Be My Neighbor

A reflection from Grace Gasper on her time as a Live-In Assistant.

Published 2 August 2024

In October, John and I were standing in front of Peace House. He was staring at our neighbor’s Halloween decorations. A stranger walked by and John tried to tell him about the decor. The passerby looked right through him like he didn’t exist. He then gave me a glance similar to a look that you would give to a pet owner whose dog got in your way. I was furious, but the stranger was gone before I could say a word to him.

After our unpleasant street interaction, John and I went inside and ate dinner with the rest of the Peace House crew. After dinner, John took a shower. While I assisted him with his night routine, we had a nice long chat about Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers. John began to sing “It’s a beautiful day in this neighborhood, a beautiful day for a neighbor. Would you be mine? Could you be mine?” I remembered our neighbor who hadn’t been so neighborly to us.

When I first started at L’Arche, I thought I could change the whole world, but I have found the work to be much smaller. Sometimes justice takes the form of enacting systemic change, but sometimes it is just singing in the shower at the end of a long day. Sometimes justice is believing in the beauty of our neighborhood when the day we had in it was quite ugly.

L’Arche has been a place of incredible challenge and incredible joy. Embracing the small justice and small change has been difficult for me because I’m someone who encounters ableism and other injustices with great anger and often a lack of grace (which is ironic considering my name). It sometimes feels like believing in the beauty of the neighborhood ignores the hurts of it, but the way I see it, a belief in something that isn’t always visibly present is hope. It is this undying hope that sets the expectation that we can be and are living in a loving reality.

Believing in the beauty of the neighborhood is holding in esteem the moments of small joy. I see the small joy in so many ways. From a “Hi Sleepy, I’m Noah,” to a dance party with Casey, to a “There’s my woman!” from Jean, joy is blossoming at Peace House in the day to day. It is also blossoming all around L’Arche Chicago, in playing Yahtzee with Tim, a cheek caress from Christianne, and a simple wave from David. These are the memories I will hold dear. These are my reasons to be happy at the end of each day. This is my neighborhood, and it is beautiful.