Are you friends with your neighbors? Do you know them? Did you meet them after you moved in, or have you never met them? 

I ask these questions as I seek to find out why nobody wants to be friends with their neighbors anymore. Nobody wants to know them. As someone who grew up in a small, middle-of-nowhere neighborhood in rural New Hampshire, my childhood memories are full of experiences with the people around me. In the winters, I would sled on the hill of the house across from me, then go inside to play Wii Sports and drink hot chocolate. The mornings consisted of carpooling with the people down the road, weekends full of biking and exploring with the neighboring kids. 

Now, I live in a city, and dorms—while very different from regular suburban ones—are like neighborhoods. And honestly? I have no idea who lives next to me. 

I don’t love strangers. This call for action, if you care to name it that, comes from a personal place of urgency. Am I missing out on life, friendships, and “neighborhood” get-togethers because I’m too afraid to walk down the hall, knock on a door, and introduce myself?

We currently live in a digital age in which, arguably, we have thousands of tiny neighbors inside our phones. Why do I need to walk two minutes to meet someone when I could just reach out online instead? But this online neighborhood is strange. It’s always buzzing, it holds every answer to every question possible, and its convenience is chaotic, while also difficult to manage. 

This community we have created can be incredibly isolating. We create ideas of a neighborhood, but without any of the commitment or intimacy. Sure, we can find our people in niche online communities at 3 a.m., but it’s truly not the same as knocking on your neighbors door and spending time with them in real life.

So what changed? When did I stop knowing or caring about who lived next to me? Through the internet, Covid, and polarizing political affairs, trust and comfort in the people around us has slowly eroded. 

It can be comfortable not knowing your neighbors: You avoid awkward conversations, vulnerability, and rejection. But through our indifference, we’ve lost nostalgia and curiosity. Community and neighborhood friendships, whether that be in your dorm, home street, or classroom, don’t happen overnight. They happen through small gestures of friendliness that ripple outward. They start by making the conscious choice to move yourself outside of the online bubble and interact with the people around you, whether that’s by holding the elevator door, saying hello, or a nod in the hallway. Being friends with your neighbors means choosing to care, even when it’s easier not to.