Love letter to the Bellerive

My elevator pitch for community

My apartment building is imperfect in many ways. It is owned by a corporate landlord (BOOOO), sometimes smells quite strange (many such cases), and has the occasional roach (yuck) and yet… I love her soooooo much.

The Bellerive was originally constructed as a luxury hotel in the 1920s. Jazz legends Duke Ellington and Billie Holiday performed here in its heyday, which was massively appealing to me, the jazz lover and historic preservation enthusiast I am. The building was renovated in 2013 into apartments, one of which, I currently rent.

Besides the gorgeous red brick and Neo-Baroque detailing of the building, my top 3 favorite things about the Bellerive are as follows:

1. The elevators

To my, and my parents’ dismay, I’ve moved 6 times in the past 7 years. This is the first lease in that timespan that I’ve renewed. One of the reasons I chose to stay is because of the elevators.

When I say I love the elevators, I really mean that I love the people in the elevators. For a chatty gal like me, an elevator is a place where I thrive. Give me 30 seconds with a stranger in a confined space and we’re likely to end up on a first name basis before the doors open. The elevator is where I’ve met most of my friends in the building.

There are only two apartment buildings where I’ve known my neighbors, and these are the two that have had elevators. No coincidence, in my opinion.

So many new-build apartment complexes are designed in a way that you never have to leave. They’ve got it all! Gym, coffee station, pool, convenience store! Others are built in a way that you never have to see your neighbors; you can enter your apartment directly from outside, so you never have to inhabit a common area. Whether a new apartment has amenities or not, they often don’t have elevators and therefore don’t FORCE you to meet your neighbors.

I consider myself an outgoing and friendly person but even for me, there is a very slim likelihood that I will approach someone at the gym, pool, grill, etc. because I assume that people don’t want to be bothered, since I generally prefer to not be bothered. But in the elevator, you’re trapped, and you have two options: 1) stand in silence with the other person and pretend to be on your phone, OR, 2) make the dreaded small talk.

When I opt for the latter, I’m bound to walk out lighter than when I walked in. I feel warmth toward my neighbors as we chat about the weather or the fire drill that happened a few nights before, or I ask to pet their dog. The elevator is a place where community happens so naturally that you might not even realize when it’s happening. Suddenly you know the name of your neighbor, your neighbor’s dog, and what they do for a living. Sometimes it takes a degree of force to spark that connection.

Some of the most fruitful relationships in life are forced yet natural. Think family, freshman-year roommates, teammates, co-workers. These may not be people you’d ever meet otherwise but because you were brought together by a hiring manager, a random roommate assignment, or fate, you are in community whether you like it or not.

A certain level of acceptance and trust is required with this type of relationship. Your coworkers don’t need to be your best friends, but it is much easier for everyone when you accept each other, quirks and all, and work together toward your shared goals. I feel this way about my neighbors. My building has people of all different ages, races, genders, occupations, and stages of life. There are children and there are older people. We don’t have to be best friends, nor do we need to have much in common, but we do have to work together to keep the common areas clean, move our laundry so other people can use the machines, and be able to communicate when there are maintenance issues or emergencies.

Luckily, I have neighbors who go beyond the basics, who are my friends, who I volunteer with, and who I can call if I need help. My quality of life is infinitely better because of them.

2. The community donation table

The community donation table at my apartment gives me hope for the world. In the entrance to my apartment, there is a table where neighbors will drop off unwanted items. The inventory is varied, ranging from unopened cans of food to clothes, to books, and pieces of furniture. I’ve donated and picked things up for myself too.

This type of organic community care is something I’ve never experienced in any previous apartments. There are no signs on the donation table, no rules, no formal agreement, just a mutual understanding that any item left there is up for grabs to anyone in the building, even folks who aren’t tenants.

I’ve seen a few homeless people browsing the donation table too, and I hope that our magical community brings them exactly what they need. No one seems to mind. I surely don’t. I love that we’re willing to help our neighbors, especially those who might need it the most.

Sometimes the table is messy, or people leave items that are broken and need to be thrown away. The system is not perfect, neither are people, neither is community. But it is better than having nothing at all. We have so much when we have each other.

Got this cute entry table from the community donation table

3. My apartment

I live in a large building, surrounded by other people but I live alone in a small space. My 500 sq. ft. apartment has been my solace and my sanctuary for the past year. Together we have hosted countless friends on many occasions, the record being my birthday party with 30+ people, NBD. I’ve cried here MANY times and managed to laugh even more than I’ve cried.

Every nook and cranny is filled with handpicked things I love. It’s a bit messy and I definitely don’t mop as much as I should, and I technically don’t own it, but it feels like mine. I have a sense of ownership over the space, knowing I’m accountable to all of it. It feels completely like an extension of myself. When I care for the space, I feel like I’m caring for myself. In return, it cares for me, keeping me safe, housed, and happy. I have almost everything I need contained in these 500 square feet.

Working as a land use planner in the housing realm makes me even more grateful for my wonderful apartment community and everything it does for me. I’m lucky to live among such kind people and I want everyone to be able to experience this type of care.

Be the neighbor you want to see in the world!

500 sq. ft. filled with my favorite people and favorite things

July To Do List:

• Wave, chat, or smile to a neighbor