N.I.M.B.Y. It stands for "Not in my backyard!" Nimby is applied to people who don't want controversial establishments - a group residence for retarded adults, or a homeless shelter close to thier homes. It is a term mostly used to label someone as intolerant and unsympathetic to plight of the poor and disadvantaged. Nimby is used against yuppies who don't want their expansive green lawns and mini McMansions vulnerable to those who don't share the same tax bracket. Or so I thought.
I went to college in a huge city. I loved it. There were risks, but those very same risks gave the City its character. On my way to classes I would sometimes buy a Happy Meal for my favorite mentally ill homeless man. Sam had bad days and worse days. There were days when Sam would be thankful for a free meal and I'd get a, "Thanks Poll, you sure a purty lady." Other days Sam's voices would get the best of him, and he would greedily grab the bag and grunt, "Thanks for nothing, Bitch." I was a little frightened, but I knew that within a day or so "Good Sam" would be back and I would be "purty" again.
Traffic, the occasional whiff of sewer gas, taxi drivers who thought they owned the road, and grumpy commuters shoving their way onto the subway didn't bother me. The city had the worst and the best of everything. The worst crime, traffic and pollution. The best restaurants, museums, shows... Culture. Employment brought me back to this smaller city and I love it more than my college digs.
However, I admit that the older I become, the more sense Nimbys make. My siblings are parents now. They have made the natural evolution from selfish adventure seekers to protectors of their young. The transformation is catching. As much as I wish Sam mental health, I don't want him near my nieces. I would never consider allowing them to ride their bikes alone through the neighborhood like I did as a kid. I have gone from web surfing Overstock.com for great shoes to web surfing the state police web site for any possible pervert lurking nearby.
The excitement and risk of a urban environment was forfited for a dull, quiet and safe - though expensive- suburban environment. I wouldn't mind a group of retarded adults living next door. Such a home would not be a threat and my nieces could benefit from the experience. However, if a homeless shelter, crime ridden motel, or a 12 step drug/alcohol meeting center attempted to move in next door to my sister's family, I would join her in going postal. Cultural and financial sacrifices were made so that the kids would have a safe and happy childhood.
My examples of unwanted establishments are not equal in their risk or distaste, but each of them would expose my sister's kids to adult situations/senarios that a small child shouldn't have to ponder. Would a recovering alcoholic pose a threat to my nieces? No. Not likely. Would a steady stream of recovering alcoholics pose a threat? Yes. It seems plausible. Would one homeless person be a threat to my family? Hopefully not. Would 20 homeless folks temporarily seeking a meal and place to sleep pose a threat? Yes. Possibly.
Admittedly, in these days of non stop CNN Amber Alerts and terrorist briefings, it is difficult to distinguish between real threats and imagined. It is more and more difficult to assess risk and vulnerability. However, when it comes to kids, no one should blame a parent (or over involved Aunty) for wanting to error on the side of caution.
If your mind is too open, your brain will fall out. Warning: Names, identities, descriptions, and pictures have been changed and/or used to protect the innocent as well as the guilty. PollyPeoria should not be used or quoted as a source for your senior college thesis.
Saturday, July 30
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