A Longtime Local Reflects on How Our Narrow Streets Build Community
Power of the wave.
I was driving up 1st Street near Robinson Elementary when I saw an old station wagon coming my way with a longboard jammed all the way up to the front windshield. I tucked in between a couple of parked cars to make space for him to pass. The driver threw out a full-blown hand-out-the-window shaka in thanks. His enthusiasm made me smile. I lifted a couple of fingers off the steering wheel to recognize his gratitude.
It was a small moment, but it made me appreciate our South Bay streets in a new way. That simple wave represented something so much bigger.
When my great-grandparents moved to the South Bay in the early 1920s, the houses were smaller, the people were smaller and the cars were smaller. The narrow streets made sense. Today some folks see them as a flaw or an inconvenience. But I see them as a feature, not a bug.
When two cars meet, one must make space. Someone pulls over. Someone waves. That act of coordination, while brief, is a form of recognition. It says, “I see you.” It says, “Thank you.”
Each time this happens, our streets create an opportunity for connection. Slowing down, squeezing next to a parked car and waiting a few seconds so someone else can get through. These moments make us more aware of each other. They turn driving into something shared rather than competitive.
The wave takes many forms. It’s the driver who slows early for a crosswalk and the pedestrian who nods in appreciation. It’s the cyclist who raises a hand when a car gives a buffer. It’s the mom with the stroller who acknowledges the driver who waited an extra second. Small gestures, repeated thousands of times, silently shape the tone of our community.
You can live in a perfectly planned suburb where wide streets allow you to pull into your garage without ever noticing a neighbor. You can live in a major city where getting around feels like a full-contact sport. But here in our little corner of California, we live in a place that forces us to share space. While we might lose convenience, we gain connection.
When we make space for each other, we wave. When we wave, we acknowledge one another. When we acknowledge one another, we strengthen our community.
The wave is a visible sign, a quiet ritual and a building block of the communities that make our South Bay such a special place. Keep on wavin’.
