Our home was so close to Bao and Lydia’s that I could literally see their orange paint from our yellow stairwell. We exchanged courtesies with them when our outdoor projects impacted one another’s property and notified each other when we were traveling for an extended period of time. Sidewalk conversations were always pleasant, but they ended there. Other neighbors had stopped by and introduced themselves during our first few weeks in our home, but Bao and Lydia were not part of that group. Given the proximity of our homes, it almost seemed odd that I felt such distance between us.  

After a couple of years as neighbors, we mustered up the nerve to invite Bao and Lydia into our home. We were hosting a birthday party for one of our children and it seemed like the ideal way to get to know them better. They had agreed to attend the party, but I was unsure if their RSVP was a cultural communication practice in which it is impolite to say “no” or if they were actually planning to come. A few minutes into the party, they rang our doorbell.  

“Hi! Come on in. We’re so glad you made it!”  

As Bao entered our home, he looked around the room and said, “We’ve lived next door for eight years and this is our first time inside.” I had spent years wondering about what felt like an invisible barrier between our families. Bao’s words reminded me of something that was familiar, but easily forgotten.  

Proximity is sometimes celebrated as the antidote to social ills. Missions, charity, and other philanthropic efforts have been touted as the way to gain understanding and build connections. 

An author, activist, and attorney, Bryan Stevenson urges people to embrace the power of proximity because it “will allow you to see and hear things that you cannot see and hear from a distance.” Stevenson reminds us that proximity may be a vehicle for initiating meaningful relationships, but it is only one ingredient in a more complex recipe for building significant connections with people around us. I learned four valuable lessons about neighborhood and proximity as a result of our relationship with Lydia and Bao: 

We must start with self-awareness 

Humans are notorious for telling stories to ourselves about others and then seeking out information or other people to validate our beliefs. Sometimes, the stories we create more accurately reflect ourselves than they do the people around us. I had placed expectations on Lydia and Bao based on my own values and beliefs about community. Part of self-awareness is checking our motives: For what purpose do I seek to know my neighbors more? How do I intend to use the information I may gain? Be aware of the ways that your perceptions of others may be about you more than it is about them. 

Take risks 

Bao and Lydia did not owe us the pleasure of their company, though we were glad that they chose to spend time with us! Extending an invitation comes with an inherent risk of rejection and a responsibility to respect the boundaries that people set. While Lydia and Bao accepted the invitation, that may not always be the case. I recently encountered a woman with whom I had attended college. I told her that we should catch up some time, but she did not respond to my invitation. She had every right to decline that invitation, even indirectly so. In other words, sometimes proximity is the extent of the relationship. Our attempts to build a bridge do not oblige neighbors to cross it.  

Respect boundaries 

Our years-long hesitation to invite Lydia and Bao into our home was a clumsy way of trying to respect their boundaries. We did not know if the lack of deeper connection was a matter of preference or status quo with previous neighbors. Extending neighborly courtesies about matters that impacted one another’s property was a meaningful and mutually respectful way for us to interact with one another (there is proximity again!). In some situations, sidewalk courtesies may be the only desirable expression of neighborhood and that is more than okay. Respect for boundaries in relationships with neighbors means that we accept the possibility that a neighbor may be content with sidewalk courtesies. We can value those interactions for what they are without demanding that neighbors give us more.  

Stay curious 

Staying curious about my neighbors is what drove me to extend a birthday party invitation, but it was not easy! When Stevenson talks about proximity giving us the ability to hear and see things that we otherwise would not from a distance, he is highlighting the value of staying curious.  

When we do not understand cultural communication styles that are different from our own, then we assign value to behaviors based on our own cultural beliefs. This approach can create conflict and confusion because we assume that we know or understand more than we do. When we stay curious, we can build bridges to connect instead of building barriers by drawing false conclusions. Staying curious is not code for becoming a nosy neighbor who digs for information, sizes people up, or confirms assumptions. Instead, staying curious helps us to seek understanding and make meaningful connections — even if they never move beyond the sidewalk. 

The power of proximity is unleashed when we practice self-awareness, take risks, respect boundaries, and stay curious. We can heed Bryan Stevenson’s invitation to embrace the power of proximity by suspending our judgment of others and allowing them to tell their own stories.