Ross (the Boss) of NDG's Blog

  We often notice good things about people. We just don't always say them. We notice the cashier who is endlessly patient. The crossing guard who greets every child. The neighbour whose flowers make the whole street prettier. The teenager who holds the door. The bus driver who waits an extra few seconds for someone running toward the stop. The parent who somehow gets three children dressed, organized and onto the school bus every morning. We see these things. We think: “That was nice.” And then we continue with our day. Today, let's change that. If you notice something good about someone in NDG, tell them. The Compliment You Keep to Yourself Helps Nobody Imagine walking past someone's garden every morning and thinking: “They've done such a beautiful job.” Then one morning you see the gardener outside. You could simply walk past. Or you could stop for five seconds and say: “I just wanted you to know—I walk by here all the time and your garden makes this street more beaut...

  We talk about transforming NDG. Sixty thousand people. Thousands of homes. Hundreds of streets. Schools, churches, parks, businesses, apartment buildings and community organizations. It can sound enormous. So today, let's make it very small. What if each of us simply cared about our block? Not all of NDG. Not all of Montreal. Just the little piece of the world immediately around us. The stretch of sidewalk we walk every day. The people whose windows we pass. The trees we live beside. The corner where children wait for the bus. The place we already call home. Adopt Your Little Piece of NDG You don't need permission. You don't need a committee. You don't need funding. You don't even need to tell anyone you're doing it. Simply make yourself a quiet promise: “I will leave my block a little better than I found it.” Pick up the coffee cup somebody dropped. Straighten the recycling bin that blew over. Move a branch from the sidewalk. Tell somebody their car lights ar...

  Every neighbourhood has people who are new. A family moving into an apartment. A student arriving for school. A couple unpacking boxes. Someone coming to Canada for the first time. Someone moving across Montreal. Someone beginning again after a divorce, a loss, a new job or a change they never expected. One day they are strangers to NDG. And then suddenly— this is home. Today, I'd like to suggest one tiny habit that could make NDG an extraordinary place to arrive. The Five-Minute Welcome. When somebody new moves near you, don't wait six months to introduce yourself. Give them five minutes. Remember What It Feels Like to Be New Moving somewhere new is strangely disorienting. You don't know which grocery store is best. You don't know when the garbage goes out. You don't know where to get a good cup of coffee. You don't know which bus goes where. You don't know the shortcut through the neighbourhood. You certainly don't know the people living behind the d...

  We often think helping someone requires a large commitment. An afternoon. A volunteer shift. A program. A responsibility we aren't sure we have time to take on. And because our lives are already full, we sometimes do nothing. So today I'd like to propose a different idea for NDG: Give someone ten minutes. Not ten minutes every day. Not a new obligation. Just ten minutes when ten minutes could make another person's life a little easier. Ten Minutes Can Be Surprisingly Useful Think about how many small difficulties surround us every day. A neighbour is carrying groceries upstairs. Ten minutes. Someone can't figure out how to print a document. Ten minutes. A senior needs help changing a light bulb. Ten minutes. A newcomer is trying to understand a letter they received. Ten minutes. Someone needs a hand moving a small piece of furniture. Ten minutes. A child needs somebody to toss a ball with them while their parent catches their breath. Ten minutes. A neighbour's car...

  There is a simple question that can change the culture of a neighbourhood: “Who isn't here?” Not: Who came? How many people showed up? Was the event successful? But: Who isn't here—and why? That question leads us somewhere different. Because a truly caring community isn't measured only by how well it serves the people who find it easy to participate. It is measured by whether we notice the people who don't. Every Community Has Invisible Barriers Imagine a neighbourhood picnic in NDG. The music is playing. Children are laughing. Neighbours are talking. The tables are full. It looks like community. And it is. But somewhere nearby is a senior who didn't come because walking two blocks is difficult. A newcomer who didn't know whether they would be welcome. A parent who couldn't afford whatever was being sold. Someone who doesn't speak much English or French. A person with a disability who wasn't sure the location was accessible...

  There is something wonderfully human about food. We need it to survive, of course. But food has always been about much more than eating. We celebrate with it. We comfort with it. We welcome people with it. We say “I was thinking about you” with a casserole, a bowl of soup, a loaf of bread—or a plate containing a little more dinner than we needed. So today I'd like to suggest another tiny habit for transforming NDG. The Extra Plate. Every once in a while, when you're preparing something good, make a little extra. Then think: Who nearby might enjoy this? It Doesn't Have to Be About Need This is important. The Extra Plate isn't a food-bank program. It isn't charity. You don't have to determine whether somebody “needs” the food. Perhaps your neighbour is perfectly capable of making dinner. That's not the point. The message isn't: “I thought you needed help.” It's: “I thought of you.” Those are four very different words. And s...