It Takes A Village
Pity the poor person who tries to do something nice for children in these parts. Case in point: the East Hampton RECenter.
Twenty-odd years after taxpayers defeated a swimming pool at East Hampton High School, there is still no indoor public swimming facility within how many miles? No swim-team scholarships. No indoor training to supply lifeguards at public beaches and private pools. No place where those who ply the seas can learn to swim. No place that offers aquanautics for seniors.
A pool, of course, is only one amenity of a phantom youth center that has been needed for generations. At long last the East Hampton Youth Alliance takes on the task, energetically raising funds for a first-class center across the street from a public school.
Delighted Main Street merchants rub their palms, anticipating the day when adolescents will repair to the new center instead of to their traditional hangout on the steps of the old V.F.W. Building. Then, three weeks ago, five years into the planning stages of the center, for which ground is to be broken this month, neighbors emerge to oppose the project:
"It's frightening. This is our backyard."
"The majority of neighbors do not want this in this area. It does not belong here."
"The bad kids will be expelled from inside, spill out to the neighborhood, and there will be vandalism."
"How late at night will kids be able to use the steps?"
Case in point: Lions Field in Montauk. An expansion is proposed that would create the only community playground in the hamlet, enough space for its popular soccer and softball leagues to coexist without rancor, and an in-line skating rink, all conveniently near the center of town.
The town agrees to fund the project, but the plan is opposed by those who fear that youths will, among other things, intimidate homeowners in a nearby apartment complex and create too much noise outside a seasonal movie theater.
The proposed solution? Move the facility to Camp Hero, a remote park about seven miles east of almost everything else in the community, where supervision and transportation are guaranteed to pose problems.
Case in point: the Sag Harbor skateboard park. Skateboarding is banned on the streets and sidewalks of Sag Harbor and East Hampton Villages, and from the sidewalks of downtown Amagansett and Montauk.
A group of Sag Harbor skateboarders persuade the Sag Harbor School District to set aside a small area for skateboarding and manage to raise thousands of dollars for the park. There is talk of making the park "a generational bridge" by eventually adding shuffleboard, boccie, and chess, and of fencing the facility at night to insure its security.
Again, neighbors protest, insisting that a better place can be found. The insurer backs off on its promise to cover liability, and the plans continue to collect dust.
In the case of each project there are legitimate concerns - about traffic, safety, and/or damage to the environment - which deserve to be addressed. Nor can the impact of noise and lights on those who live nearby be underestimated.
But fear is also at work - and a mentality that says keep those you fear out of sight. What are our young people to make of this? Where, exactly, would we like them to go?
On a barge to nowhere or a satellite orbiting the globe?
Adequate recreational facilities and well-run youth centers should be basic ingredients of small-town life. Vandalism and intimidating behavior by youngsters in public places are best approached by offering them something better to do.
It takes a village to make its youngsters feel like members of a happy and healthy community instead of lepers. We've got the choice.