Cricket in Times Square

The Cricket in Times Square by George Selden., 1960

What makes “home” home? How do we make people comfortable when they are out of their comfort zone?

When I was about eight, I took this book from the library.  I am choosing this as a blog-post because it includes themes that I will explore in later posts- family life, friendships, ethnicity, New York City.

I am not sure what I was expecting when I chose the book bud I do remember being surprised with all the information about neighborhoods in NYC, places that I was familiar with and that feeling of familiarity was probably what drew me in.

Much of the activity in the book occurs in a newsstand at the entrance of an IRT subway station in Times Square.  Once upon a time, the IRT was a privately owned subway station. It was sometimes called the Flatbush Avenue line. The IRT  was the subway line in my neighborhood, and my station was on the corner of Church and Nostrand Avenues.  The IRT was the train we took when we went into THE CITY ( we always referred to NYC THE CITY).

The newsstand of the book was certainly something I was very familiar --such  newsstands stood outside most subway stations across each of NY’s boroughs. After reading the book, I can say that I never took the humble newsstand for granted again. Each stand I passed from that time on was a newsstand home to people who had a family, had a story, and quite possibly served as the home to a special visitor. 

 The book was filled with all the bustle and sounds of New York, sounds that always felt comfortable to me.  Reading this book was the first time realized that people could be overwhelmed by a city, and that some people weren’t familiar with New York and all its treasures.  The cricket who hopped a train to NYC found that he was way out of his comfort zone and was missing is own country home. And while the cricket became more comfortable with city life, it was never home. Funny how it’s always a bit of a shock when you first realize that what is so comfortable and familiar to you may be so odd for someone else. 

I grew up spending my summers on a lake in northern New Jersey ( I live there now). At the time it was certainly considered a “country” place compared to New York/Brooklyn.  So as a city kid, I got to walk barefoot all summer, learned to swim by the time I was five, run through woods, fish and even “camp-out” in the woods in the front yard.  My familiar was both city and country.

One Christmas vacation my best “country” friend came to visit and spend a few days. We did the whole NYC city thing…Empire State, China Town, and such. I recall that I was startled to realize that she, like the cricket, was a bit overwhelmed.  She was way out of her comfort zone in a place that felt as safe to me as my own bedroom. 

When you are young, even if you are exposed to other cultures like I was living in a city, things that are different can appear to be “odd.”  I remember being surprised that people ate turkey on Christmas…turkey, really?  Christmas was for feasting on home-made ravioli and other Italian foods, everyone knew that!

When do we stop equating what is normal to us with what is “right?” When I became a step parent I was confronted with this very question.  I was confronted with my own prejudices when it came to defining family life, family traditions, and ways of expressing family relationships. I was thrown out of my comfort zone and into a new family and my guard went up.  Marriage can force an unlikely group people to form  a family…A group as different as the boy, the cat and the cricket. And each of the members has their own definitions of what family life is and how it draws the individuals in or forces them to the sides. Actually the marriage doesn't make a family it just forms a group of people who share space and the relationship to one or more members of a group. Its what happens in the coming years that form (or not) the family.

Because step-families are often formed from the “victims” of divorce,  the members forming this new unit are quite fragile.  My step-kids had lived ten years through their parent’s horrific divorce.  Their hearts were thick with protective scarring. And while I knew this, I kept forgetting it…couldn’t understand how hard it was to form deep relationships with each child.  Relationships that go beyond the surface. I was expecting too much too soon. Unfortunately, I couldn’t let go of wanting that type of relationship and wanting it quickly…both naïve and selfish desires.  Blending families is a bit like forcing a cricket to live with a cat, it’s not natural, but it can work.

It takes time to form a functional family .  My relationship with my step kids continues to develop. It certainly has had its share of false starts and mistakes on my part and a few on theirs as well. Fortunately for all of us, we are still working at it…

What is even more exciting is that we are creating our own familiar…that sense of familiar unique to the five of us, we are creating a sense of home even though we no longer live together or even near each other. We are creating a group that is bonded together, forgives each other and, gratefully laughs together. We have our own inside jokes and that is really what family life is…my pray is that sense of home, that which is comforting and familiar to the five of us continues to grow.

RULE 1 OF FORMING A STEP-FAMILY: DON’T FORCE IT

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