Nearly every evening my neighbour Loretta joins my mom at the end of our driveway to people watch and chat. Often the exchange of gossip is trivial - the Stevensons went on a cruise and the McIntosh family bought a new car. Other times I wonder if we actually live on Wisteria lane.I like to call their meetings the Neighbourhood Watch.
When I was a kid I carried a certain skepticism about the Neighbourhood Watch stickers that identified various households as members of a protective ally within my community.
I wasn't sure what my neighbours were watching. Still encumbered by the egocentric mind of a child, I supposed they were watching me and felt imposed on. What if I fell off my bike and somebody saw my embarrassing tumble? What if I stuck my finger up my nose and was caught?
It seemed everybody in Fontainbleu had their eyes on me. And even if they didn't they were watching out for something or somebody, an act that signalled danger.
The Neighborhood Watch Registry was introduced to Canadian communities in the early 80's as a measure to improve community safety. It educates citizens on measures which, for example, discourage theft and identify suspicious activity. But I never felt unsafe in my neighbourhood and wonder whether this was an overprotective program that contaminated the community with unnecessary fear and distrust.
While my parents worried about kidnappings and burglaries, I wondered whether criminals disguised themselves behind registered screen doors hoping to lure children like myself into a modern-day Hansel and Gretel scenario
So I began to spy on my neighbours' every move. Finding no suspicious activity, I quickly grew bored of playing detective.
Today I enjoy sitting in with my mom and Loretta in their vigilant scrutiny of our neighbours quirks and routines. I sleep easily knowing that the most suspicious activity on our street is the blatant spying that takes place on my driveway.
