Community can be a nebulous thing in the 21st century, that's for sure. I grew up with no single home, moving a lot. My community was always my friends. We found a connection by going places, riding horses, or just sitting and listening to music and talking. As I've grown up and moved around the world, I have found community at parties, over coffee, at fairs, or even planting gardens with friends. One of my favorite ways to connect with people is to invite them over for a long dinner with lots of conversation--no TV, no distractions, just one-on-one.

I find community in the friendly gaze of fellow hikers as I walk the trails of Griffith Park or meander along the Los Angeles River. It is in those moments when eyes meet and lips turn upward that I feel the greatest connection. The sense that we're all in this together.

If I walk by someone who has their eyes locked on the ground I make a point of saying hello. It's amazing how receptive people can be to a simple greeting from someone who they don't even know. And if people don't respond, that's okay too. Community can't be forced on anyone. But I'll just keep saying hello and with each smile or nod of the head, strangers become neighbors.

I feel starved for community. I grew up in the midwest, raised my kids in southern Oregon, and just returned from British Columbia--in all of those places, I felt considerably more connected with people primarily because they were friendly, available, and seeking to connect with others. Here in LA, though I love southern California and have lived here for a long time, I feel isolated. There is no street life, we live in our cars, and when people are out, they seem connected to their cell phones rather than open to serendipitous connection.

Yes, through sports there are opportunities for friendship. And through work. But to find those special friends who are like family to me, I've had to dig through my personal archives and re-connect with friends from non-California abodes in order to find the level of social intimacy I so crave. What has happened to civility and social ease here in LA? Are we so movie-industry-obsessed that only people within those climes are worthy of connection?

I second what Ruth wrote about missing civility. It seems like the heat is getting to everyone, and it manifests itself through their driving. I think people view their cars like a kind of impenetrable bubble, from which they can say and do things they wouldn't do otherwise. People have cut me off, beeped and me, and been generally rude--all week long. That said, when I least expect it, a total stranger is really kind and lets me into a lane, or smiles at me. I guess that's LA--it's a mixed bag of anger, creativity, frustration, joy and kindness.

Community? I'll tell you about my community. Most of us were born here... we grew up in the LA school systems, sons and daughters of mostly lower to middle class blue collar types... some wealthy families too though... We are the anonymous nobodies that destroy this city's wall space. There are thousands of us... We've invented our own class of celebrity accolade and hierarchy. We run our groups like they run the corporations... literally. Most of us are not highly educated, a precious few are in college "making something" of themselves... We do what we do because it gives us confidence. It tells us we are important in at least one aspect in this lonely city of interlopers where you are only somebody if you have money or celebrity status. Yeah, you can call it childish, crimminal, or "the easy way out." But strangely, we don't care because we have our community and it is strong.

I have found community in music. One of the nice things about LA is the number of great musicians. My wife and I play traditional music- Old timey, French Musette,Tex-Mex,Italian, Irish and Rags. The community of musicians is at least a few hundred who play this music and we will travel around LA to play with different groups. This is the glue that keeps us here.

I grew up in northern California, went to college in LA, and then left to get my master's degree in the midwest. I'm now back in LA, and without question this city has the least to offer in the way of community of anywhere I've ever lived, or, for that matter, ever visited. The very fact that this question has been posed essentially delivers the answer. The response of most Angelinos to such comments about LA is, "Come on, it's not THAT bad," which seems to imply that it is indeed bad, but that the shade of gray is debatable. LA is not, nor will it ever be, a real city. It's a place, loosely connected through a grid of streets so overwhelmed that the one main function of this community -- to efficiently move people around -- has utterly and disastrously failed.

I've tried and cried and tried. In my attempts to embrace my neighborhood as a community just south of Los Angeles proper, it's been a tug of war. I've become active in block clubs and city politics only to be greeted by continuing frustration. Though I am committed to the struggle, the politicos in my fair city have personal agendas that have nothing to do with improving the city or its residents. . .hence, obstacles aplenty!

My civil rights roots were steeped in my parents fight against de-facto segregation in a medium sized mid-western city in the the early sixties. They chiseled out the encrusted wall of racism that snaked throughout our city like the Great Wall of China.

I mistakenly thought this over-sized melting pot could offer comfort, solace and healing following the riots/Rodney debacles. The Los Angeles area is heavily sprinkled with respite areas “to get away from it all”. Though it may sound naively altruistic, I hope that Angelinos will one day wake up to the smell of humanity in the morning and begin planting seeds of vision for their respective communities. . .and realize we do not have to “get away from it all”, we can have it all.

LA Sucks.

I identify with the longing that Maria and Mark and Ruth write about. When I think about the mini-communities I love, they are all part of the things that matter most to me. I still hold dear those I met when I was with the "young ministering adults" at my church. And my writer pals from our playwrights lab. Even the kids who show up at my husband's chess class at the library.

LA is a tough town. We're separated by freeway miles and our busy, busy lives. Just renewing a drivers license is a three day experience in frustration. It makes you just want to curl up and watch HGTV.

I have one friend who's trying to unite the city by sponsoring cross-cultural events featuring food. It's a start.

I felt, too, that with about 18 million people between Ventura, CA and the Mexican Border that I was all by myself; there was no community. Indeed, living alone and by myself, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually easily makes "No Community" too true. When I began to know -- and feel that we are all in this together; that we need each other - all of us, I now see -- and feel -- that we are all one big MISHPOKHE!

Jason, translation please. Mishpokhe?

I live in ELA and, believe it or not, we have a very vibrant and close community. Yes there are occasional crime problems, however, the people usually causing the problems are not the residents. We all look out for each other and our properties. Most residents are hard working people with family to support and raise. My wife and I are both elementary school teachers, and, we teach right here on the eastside. Our friends at work find it interesting that we have not moved out of the area and into a more "middle income" neighborhood. We do have those plans in mind, but, when the time comes, it will be like leaving behind a very near and dear friend.......our ELA community.

As a relative newcomer to L.A., one of the things that helped me decide to come here was the diversity. I used to live in an upper-midwest city that was far too "white bread", and not very open to new cultures or colors. Even though there are large number of both heading that way.

I find community all over the place here. When I go and catch music (either in clubs or at concerts), hitting the farmer's market where I live now and seeing familiar faces, and even in the apartment complex I live in.

They say confession is good for the soul, so I'll confess that I was a bit terrified to move here. When you live in Minneapolis, all you hear about LA is crime from gang problems to slow police chases involving Broncos. Newsflash: There's crime back there, too. It doesn't make it less of a place to find community.

All in all, I think community is where you look for it. Shared interests, shared space, shared employer.

Find one that makes you comfortable. Then go out and find more.

Working at the Ford Amphitheatre, each summer I have the opportunity to experience a special sense of L.A. as a community of communities. Because each event at the Ford is presented by a different community organization, each performance tends to be its own celebration of community and culture, one that is presented for anyone to participate in. The Ford’s central location in the neutral “turf” of the Cahuenga Pass, together with its beautiful historic outdoor setting with its own special vibe and energy, makes it work particularly well as a “safe” place for meeting fellow Angelenos and exploring (and celebrating) the wide variety of cultures of the people of Los Angeles. By attending shows at the Ford and thereby intersecting with slices of the broader community, over the course of the summer one really does begin to get a sense and understanding of the diversity of Los Angeles and its people – what our common humanity is and what makes us all uniquely different.

There are other cultural venues in Los Angeles that offer such opportunities to intersect with, learn about and meet neighbors from across the city – Grand Performances at California Plaza downtown comes immediately to mind – and there are also plenty of culturally specific venues throughout the city who open their doors to urban explorers willing to go on a road trip to visit and learn what each offers. One of the most invigorating and exciting aspects of living in this region is this seemingly endless opportunity to learn about, experience and participate in so many aspects of the communities that comprise the region’s larger sense of community.

I agree with Rob, "Find one that makes you comfortable. Then go out and find more." In other words - move. If you need community you won't find it here or fit in. Face it, LA is Hell. I dare anyone to find one famous quote about this place that is somewhat positive (discounting those that mention pretty women and good weather). My favorite one is: "Welcome to LA - is your soul dead yet?"

p.s. the emperor ain't wearing anything

Well, when I said go out and find more, I wasn't actually suggesting moving. Rather, I was suggesting that people get out and see what's around...Wander through a park. Get out of the car and check out local shops; visit a restaurant you've driven past a thousand times but never tried. You never know where community might pop up!

It's funny that I happened upon this thread, as this subject has been uppermost in my mind lately.

I've lived in LA for about 4 1/2 years, and I find it to be an incredibly lonely place. I have only one close friend here, and we usually just talk on the phone, as she is a bit of a hermit.

I am yearning to go back to where I went to college -- a small town in Virginia. Unfortunately, most of the jobs are in the big cities.

I'm not a club-goer, and I live in North Hollywood, where the only farmers' market consists of a woman selling purses in the Sears parking lot on Saturday afternoons.

Every week, I resolve to do something; go to a museum, go to a park, SOMETHING, but a combination of heat and fear of the unknown keeps me in.

I wish I could feel the sense of community that some of you seem to. I am envious of it.

These past few mights have been truly energizing for me --- getting to know so many people throughout Southern California who are coming together at our table served nightly on this show. And the most amazing thing is that I never know what everyone else plans to bring to this pot-luck party --- a thought, a chuckle, a question. It doesn't matter. To me, its all been good.
I think this experiment / experience is reminding me and perhaps you that we're not so different and there's more we have in common than not.

I think it all just begins with one word: Hello.

Lincoln Place - the best community in Venice, California. A place where community and architecture live in harmony. If you don't believe me, check out www.lincolnplace.net

I have been a resident of Lincoln Place since 1984, when I moved from an apartment on San Vicente Blvd. near Ocean in Santa Monica. At first, I thought I had moved to a "border town". But when I came home to Lincoln Place, with its curved streets, wide open lawns, palm trees and pastel colored buildings, I felt the peace and tranquility rarely found in a large city such as Los Angeles.

Lincoln Place is a wonder. A place where neighbors look out after neighbors, and yet, we all have complete privacy. Built in 1949-1950, with lathe and plaster walls, only one common wall between apartments, every room with a double hung window (including the bathroom), large kitchens, well sized rooms and plenty of storage space, these rental units feel more like a house than an apartment.

Each building is unique, not just in color, but in the architectural detail of each building facade. With rambling sidewalks leading us to our front doors, and wide broad eaves giving each building the feeling of great stature, Lincoln Place is a testimony to the great vision of Ralph Vaughn, an African American architect. Built on over 35 acres, we were originally 795 units (cottages, two story duplexes and two story fourplexes). Unfortunately, our landlord has succeeded in tearing down 99 units, but with 696 we were still a vibrant community.

Nominated for the National Register of Historic Places and the California Register of Historical Resources, and designated as a City Cultural Landmark in a unanimous vote by the Los Angeles City Council in 2000, Lincoln Place is the best place to live.

And we tenants here at Lincoln Place know it. That is why we are fighting to prevent the destruction of these buildings, which are not only our homes, but which also tell the story of LA during the 1950's. Having been the largest multi-family development in southern California when it was built, Lincoln Place made history then and it is making history now.

We are a current day David and Goliath story.

Our current Landlord, AIMCO, one of the largest owner of apartments in the US, is evicting all of the tenants, almost 200 households, by illegally using the Ellis Act, a state statute which allows a landlord who is going out of the rental business or "ceasing doing business as a landlord", to evict the tenants without cause and withdraw all of the rental units from the market place. And the City of Los Angeles is doing nothing to prevent this illegal act.

But the tenants are fighting back. While AIMCO is currently attempting to evict over 90 households by denying the tenants their legal rights, the community here at Lincoln Place has banned together to hire Elena Popp, an eviction defense attorney, to defend them in eviction court. And Elena Popp is also the attorney who filed the lawsuit against AIMCO's right to use the Ellis Acct in the case, Marlin v. AIMCO Venezia, LLC.

As a community, the tenants have volunteered their time to be a part of the solution. We now have a Media Team to get our story out into the public (on Sunday, July 24 we were on the Channel 11 Fox news at 10PM, last week we were in the Argonaut, the SM Mirror, the SM Daily Press, and soon there will be a story in the LA Weekly and in Los Angeles Magazine), we have a Security Team to help reduce crime now that we have so many vacant apartments, we have an Acquisition Team to actively interview potential equity partners, we have a Legal Defense Team to work with Ms. Popp in our legal defense, and we have an Executive Team, to keep us focused and working together.

Our goal: To own Lincoln Place - a community of the future.

There is no community worth speaking of in most of L.A.. I live in Sherman Oaks and am originally from New York. I didn't fully appreciate the phenomenon of "community" until I left New York, realized I shared an affinity with other New Yorkers I met out here, and found that most of the native Southern Californians were veritably incapable of forming true, deep, solid human connections. Maybe it partially IS the geography; too much literal, physical space between people. And, I'm sure that it's also the history. California, especially this part of it, hadn't begun to be settled into the general cultural society it is today until what, the late 1930's (at least from one main perspective)? I'm thinking of the migrants from the midwest as refugees from the dust storm, a la The Joad's in the Grapes of wrath or as was humourously represented in the W.C. Fields film where he comes out from the urban east to grow oranges. Also, the water and power deals that fatefully developed real estate and settlement in those days. At any rate, its not as though I'm making a snap judgment or anything; I came out here back in around 1980 - first to San Diego and then to L.A. - and I've had nothing but these impressions born out and further reinforced over all these years. My wife, Jodi, who's from Cleveland, feels the same. I'm sure there are some defensive Southern Californians out there reading this who are saying to me (silently to themselves), "well then, why don't you just go back to where you came from?!". They say this because they think simply, superficially. They seem to have great trouble seeing complexity and depth in life.

"L.A." is not A city, and if you look at it as such, you are likely to be confused and disappointed. Comparing LA to cities like Minneapolis or San Fran, as others have in their comments here, is a false comparison.

What LA is, is a giant cluster of approximately 200 cities--and countless neighborhoods--of incredible diversity (in architecture, history, culture, ethnicity, even climate). You won't find community in LA as a whole. But many people find community in places like Santa Monica, Los Feliz, East Los Angeles, Claremont, and parts of Pasadena and Venice and West Hollywood. And many people get frustrated seeking it in many other areas, some of which are very impersonal places due to their physical form or their local history.

Personally, I think Santa Monica has more to offer in terms of community, social responsibility, and culture than most other cities of around 200,000 anywhere in the country. And it has the added benefit of being within driving distance of hundreds of other diverse communities, when one feels like a change.

Tourists and newcomers to LA are understandably overwhelmed, and sadly, many spend their time on the freeways between Magic Mountain and Disneyland--or between a dingbat apartment in Reseda and an office cube in Irwindale--and they think that is all LA has to offer. They are wrong.

If you can't find community in the part of LA you live in -- try a very different one. It's out there!

Not being a native Southern Californian, I find these posts very interesting and very revealing. I read them and many have a common element. The "I" element. What is there for "me". Whether it is entertainment, relationships, housing, or anything else, the majority of the postings clearly show peoples willingness to use and even complain. Few articulate the desire to contribute and build.

Growing up, I dealt with neighborhoods. Neighborhoods were geographically bound. There was usually commonality, either through ethninticity or economic status.

My experience in my younger years was communities are not geographically bound. I participated in professional organizations, national youth organizations, and other institutions that each had their own communitys. The community that gathers together at a Boy Scout Jamboree is a geographically diverse as can be. Yet they all share common interests, a cornerstone of being a community.

I would further submit in this era of expanded communications (internet, IM, Cellular technology, SMS (text messaging))geographic proximity has little to do with community or the quality there in.

I equally don't chose to expend my time or efforts wondering about the existence or quality of my community. My approach to community is that it is my responsibility to not only participate, but to contribute and improve. Furthmore I want to teach my children their responsibility to participate and contribute to communities.

Thus, I am an active participant and volunteer in many communities. I coach basketball for our local community center. I have been involved with my local synagogue, on the board, and as a lay volunteer. I started youth services within my synagogue to teach children how to worship.

I am involved with an organization that fights discrimination in any form. As a part of that organization, I have been to Congress to lobby the lawmakers who have providence over the greater community to rage against prejudice and injustice in my local community, this nation and the global community.

I am also on the board of a two local educational institutions that endeavor to bring quality educational offerings for children, families, and adults into my neighborhood.

I go to work everyday. I work from home, but there is no lack of community. My company is a global institution, and modern electronic communications technology has enabled me to be no more that a mouse click away from any of 300,000 people. In this community we are working not only to acheive our buisiness objectives, the employees of company I work at has developed a set of values that not only include sales and profit, it includes our desire to bring innovation to improve our world.

So, to me, I have not only found community in Southern California, I am an active participant in these communities, striving to improve them in whatever little way I can.

So, in a quiet moment, alone in my thoughts, I may waxed nostalgic for NYC. However, I can not say this nostalga is caused by a lack of community in Southern California. I have found plenty.

It may sound countradictory, but I almost feel this area is too crowded to have a community feeling develop. The area where I live is just an ordinary low/middle income area, but the houses are so close together that in order preserve any privacy most of us just say hello to our neighbors & keep on going. There is no socializing, although we do try to keep an eye out for problems. That really does not constitute community in my eyes.
The other problem is the time and distance required to go to any events. I can spend 75 minutes in traffic to go to a TGIF event. After working all week, it just seems like too much effort.

We have MANY communities here in Los Angeles but one of my favorites is the community of loners/commuters that I groove with for every morning/afternoon commute. We sit alone in our cars, cocooning to work, recognising each other by the bumper stickers and decals pasted on our rear ends. I feel comforted when I see my buddy with the Darwin fish or forwarned when I notice the Bush for President guy that cut me off 3 times this week. As with any community you take the good with the bad with the ugly.

I have always wanted to find that sense of neighborhood that I had as a child, and I've found it in Sunland/Tujunga. I believe Los Angeles is making great strides to encourage the community spirit through its Neighborhood Council program. Sunland/Tujunga has an active council and is working to clean up our community, regenerate business focus in the area, and make life for it's residence better than ever before.
My particular neighborhood is made up of wonderful people who care about each other, and always lend a hand when one is needed. A couple of years ago, they even got together for me, when a TV program came to landscape my backyard. My neighbors were the labor force, and I'll be forever grateful to them for their hard work and generousity.
Come and visit Sunland/Tujunga Neighborhood Council, and get a feel of real community in LA.
Thanks

Community is a vital and important aspect to each city here in Southern California. Whether people take the time to become involved in his or her community is the actual question that should be asked. Yes, there are communities that people really do know their neighbor, by name in fact! I live in Monrovia, California, a small, quaint town east of Pasadena. Monrovia is the poster child of small town, community involement. We all need to work together to make our communities work and prosper.

I am a recent transplant to the greater LA area, and am personally distressed by what seems to pass for "community" out here. I have taken my dog to three separate dog parks in an attempt to find a community of people and pets to socialize with. I have gone on numerous interviews, introduced myself to new neighbors, and even attepted conversation with strangers in laundromats. All to no avail. I have gone out of my way to meet new people. The most alarming and woeful realization I have made is that there seems to be NO sense of community out here. There are cell phones and cars and weather and any number of excuses to be made use of, but I keep coming back to the fact that there appear to be no friendly people in LA. Some make the effort to be polite, some even manage a heroic niceness in the face of the everyday, but no one is friendly. I feel isolated, and unwanted in large groups of people, and I don't really know why. People are always avoiding any kind of human contact. It sadens me. Is there anywhere truely friendly people can be found in LA? A place where the day and it's demands and disappointments are left behind? Where people smile genuinely and want to get to know you, not what you can do for them, or how to get around you if you prove to be some sort of unwitting obstacle to their endeavors? I have turned more frequently than I would like to admit to my friends still living in the state I moved from to find a connection with anyone. Is this the state of "community" in LA?

I feel like the automatic asumption with the word community is that it is something that creates a positive effect. I actually feel like community is more just a loose understanding or knowledge of each other that a group of people can hold. At my place of work, a community is created between my co-workers, the customers, and the interesting variety of people who just like to come in for some human contact. I don't work at a particularly interesting place either, there, it has been argued, is one on every corner. Now all of the people who come in may or may not brighten my day, but there is something about human bonds that does give a person a particular emotion that just cannot be felt through any other experience. So when people talk about not having a kind of community, it can be simple to just go out of your way to say hi to a neighbor just to open a door, whether or not the person responds positively or not, you have created a bond between yourself and a fellow human being.

Our community was formed around being fans of the Philadelphia Eagles. Being that we are all transplants from back east, we use our love for sports as a community "commonality." We get together and watch our EAGLES at The Shack in Santa Monica, play softball and football together, and do charity work for the community. We are doing a WING BOWL on Sept 10 at The Shack (Wilshire and 26th) to raise money and awareness for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.

Community became a reality for me in 1999, in the middle of the disintegration of my life-to-date, I moved to the country ... in the midst of the millions of LA. Looking for a new place to live, I answered an ad in the "Pasadena Star News": "High ranch quarters in Altadena for the right individual".

I discovered that community wasn't the buildings, nor the block or city. Community is the state. The sense of being, which exists when whatever happens around us - happens. Community is people giving meaning and definition to "self".

The awakening was the sound of drums, at 1 am, that roused me from bed the first night I stayed on the ranch. Five people, in a circle. Those were the first people, whose community I joined. The joy of rhythms and music, laughter and stories; sponataneous conjunction. Too fat to fly, but I can dance!

At 2000 foot elevation in the foothills, we have a sense of isolation. A safe distancing that allows / causes us to rely upon each other. Dinners are frequently shared. Disasters, big and small, are shared. Joy, sadness, death and recently birth are shared ... felt by all in our community. Isolated above SGV as we are, I would sit overlooking the carpet of lights at night. Counting each light and seeing the literal millions of people in the distance, and feeling alone - no connection. I have this same feeling in the midst of crowds.

Our community grows, sometimes by hundreds in just hours; Parties happen! Then I find that I have joined a community that has a sense of belonging back through recent decades ... across the world and back through cultural time.

War is BAD.
MAKE peace happen!!!!!!!!!