When Jan and Brian Dutcher moved to San Diego for Brian's new job at San Diego State University, the neighbors smiled and introduced themselves. But there were no “ bring a plate” invitations, no car pooling for her daughters Liza, 12 and Erin, 15.
“The family really didn't know each other, and we missed that,” says Jan.“We are far from relatives. Neighbors are our family.”
So Jan, an artist, decided to repeat a project she had done for Liza's fifth-grade class: ask each person to paint his or her face on a big canvas(帆布).The finished piece would become the new family photo.
First , Jan painted a grid(网格) on the canvas and put it up in the garage with a table of paints nearby. Then whenever she was home, the “art room” door was up , with an open invitation for neighbors to paint. The first to stop in were kids riding by. “They thought it was cool,” says Jan, but the adults weren't so keen. “ Most said they hadn't picked up a paint brush since kindergarten,” she says. “They were afraid they'd mess it up.” But as word slowly spread, they came, some using their driver's license photos as models.
Then something started to happen. They returned —to see who had painted, or if they could recognize who was who. In Jan's garage, they began to chat about schools, jobs, and families. Almost daily. Wendy, who lived across the street and was seriously ill, came in her wheelchair to watch the fun. Neighbors began to offer their support.
When the worst things happened and Wendy died, they stood by her husband, Bill and invited him over for dinners.
This year has been different in the neighborhood. Families take turns hosting happy hours. “We're watching over each other now just like in the painting.” says Jan.
