This story actually starts a long time ago.
My father, Bill Neff, lived his whole life in the same town, on the same street, in the same house as his mother had before him. He loved his town. He knew just about everybody in it, cared for them at their best and worst and went out of his way to show kindness to just about everyone he met.
He was a friendly man, thoughtful and considerate. His life -- which, sadly, ended far too soon -- may not have taken him on big adventures around the world. But it meant something to his family, his community. Bill Neff mattered. And he mattered because he cared so much about those around him.
Until I went away to college, that house, that town, that community -- my dad's -- was mine too. A place where everybody knew my name, knew that I had recently made Honor Roll after reading about it in the weekly Piedmont Herald. Knew that I had just run my fastest cross-country race after my Dad bragged about it at Kenny's grocery store.
It's not that I was special. It's that EVERYONE is kind of special when you live in a small town. The community knows about your wins and losses, triumphs and tragedies. And, if it's a good town, people will cheer you on through the good times and support you through the tough.
When my Dad was alive, when I was growing up, our town was a good town. And I still feel lucky to have been nurtured by that community.
But at the same time, I yearned for more -- to meet new people and experience new things, to see places I'd only read about. I knew the world was big, and our town was small. And if I'm honest with myself, I wanted my life to be bigger than my Dad's, as much as I admired him.
That goal took me to college 5 hours away and then on a career/life path that led up and down the mid-Atlantic with my husband, Shane. It led to my two Adorable kiddos, some wins and losses in the work world and in our family life -- and, eventually, to New Zealand.
New Zealand. Half a world away from where I started out. I often wonder, what would Bill Neff think of that?
And I can probably guess, because I have a good bit of Bill Neff in me. :)
I am thoughtful and try to be considerate. I'm friendly and caring -- and I've passed those same traits on to my father's namesake, my son, William. I care about people and yearn for connection. And even though I've moved six times since my college days, I've always tried to rebuild and rekindle that feeling of community I grew up with.
In most places we’ve landed, I have. Our family’s community looks a little different than the small town I came from, but it shares the same feelings of affection and mutual support. Our hodgepodge network is made up of wonderful co-workers I met at terrible jobs. Of college friends who became lifelong friends. Neighbors who became family. Of nannies and piano teachers, Tae Kwon Do masters and fellow working parents. Of the wiry-haired older woman who walked her 5 dogs past our home in Northern Virginia every day. Of the Pakistani family who sent spicy food home for Shane.
Our community doesn’t have or depend on a geographical connection. It's an emotional one. And I see my role as something of a connector, a collector -- someone who finds good people, shines them up, holds on to them tight and then carries the memories, the love with us wherever we go next.
Having built this satellite "small town" over the last two decades, I knew we would find our people in New Zealand as well. Living abroad did not have to be a scary or lonely prospect, but rather an opportunity to add to our basket. And boy have we found some good eggs here. :)
Of all the places we've lived as a family, this community -- West Auckland, New Zealand -- has been the most comfortable transition for us. Our kids' school has a great network of parents, and I've found that many of them have similar personalities, likes and goals as our family. Shane's coworkers have been welcoming and easy to embrace. The kids both have best friends for the first time.
We've felt at home with the people here. Even more than that, we feel like we belong, like we matter.
Some of that is due to the fact that I have more time and energy to spread around these days, since I'm not locked in an office 9-5. I have time to cultivate relationships with the moms I know, energy to entertain our kids' friends after school or on the weekends. Since we're not just barely keeping our heads above water, we, as family, have more kindness and gratitude and love to share with those around us.
So how do you build a community while living abroad? Turns out, the same way you build one in a small town. The same way Bill Neff built his community all those years ago.
You be kind and considerate, friendly and caring. You interact with the people you see every day, starting with a simple “hello, how are you?” and giving a little more of yourself each time you meet. You be generous with your time, your talents. You listen. You give the benefit of the doubt. You say “yes” to an opportunity to do something new with someone new, even when you’d rather spend the day on the couch. You give more than you take.
I believe the good of all is made up of the good we do for each other, one connection at a time. I learned that from my Dad, growing up in his small town as part of the community he loved so much. And now I’m teaching my children that same lesson with the world in mind.
