WaPo Op-Ed: Why Don't I Have Any Close Friends? I Live In Los Angeles.

Washington Post Op-Ed:  Would You Be Mine? Could You Be Mine? Won’t You Be My Friend?, by Allison Raskin (MPsych 2023, Pepperdine):

My dad was in town recently, and one morning I had to take him to urgent care. He had felt a shooting nerve pain in his arm for a few months, and it had reached the point of agony. As we were driving there — following a delicious breakfast at IHOP, because even bad days can have glimmers of joy — he told me that I should just drop him off so I could go back home and do my work. I replied, “Would you just drop me off?” Game point. Discussion over.

I was raised in a family that prioritized taking care of one another. When my mom had knee surgery in 2018, I flew home to take care of her. And when I had knee surgery in 2022, both my parents flew out to take care of me. There is an underlying understanding that loving someone means being there for them both emotionally and physically whenever possible. I feel so grateful to have this type of dynamic ingrained in me. But I have struggled as an adult to re-create it in my friendships. Especially after I left the chaos of my 20s and our lives became more and more separate.

There was a popular TikTok making the rounds a while ago in which content creator Amelia Montooth discussed how, due to capitalism and an obsession with prioritizing our productivity, we have moved away from the “small-favors economy.” Basically, in past generations, it was more normalized to rely on people in our community to help us out. Asking for a ride to the airport wasn’t a great offense but an opportunity to show someone that you cared about them.

@ameliamontooth if ur my friend and ur seeing this lets b radical anticapitalists together while you drive me home from LAX 😈 #wlw #friends #friendship #20s #femalefriends #friendgroup ♬ original sound - Amelia

But as independence has become more and more glorified, people have been less likely to ask others for help. This limits how close we are able to get to the people we care about so much.

For years, I have tried to figure out how to feel more connected to my friends. Instead of just catching up every few weeks (or, more honestly, every few months), I want to re-create the dynamic I have with my family. Where if someone has a bad day, they feel comfortable calling me to vent. Or if they really need help with something, they just ask me because that is what we do for each other. I have seen other people have these types of friendships (my sister and mother included), and I’ve often worried that the issue is me. That I am not the type of person people want to get that close to, even though I am often waving my hands and basically shouting, “Let me love you!” Maybe something in my nature prevents the level of intimacy my older sister has curated through her multiple group texts and seemingly endless backyard BBQs.

But, in an effort not to be so mean to myself, I have tried to take a step back and see other explanations. This exercise helped me land on a less personal reason for my lack of strong connections.

To put it simply, I live in Los Angeles, which is a large, sprawling city that makes it difficult to just pop in on a friend because they live 50 minutes away.

This suspicion has been supported by my growing friendship with a neighbor. You see, despite not knowing each other for that long, we have come to rely on each other for more favors than I am used to. Her open and friendly personality makes me comfortable asking for help, and it certainly doesn’t hurt that help is quite literally right next door. That’s why I’ve started to push through the discomfort of asking her to grab my mail and even check on my dogs. And I still feel a thrill each time she says of course.

Washington Post Op-Ed:  Here’s What I’ve Learned About Disasters: Your Neighbor Is Your Savior, Amanda Ripley (Author, The Unthinkable: Who Survives When Disaster Strikes — And Why (2024)):

On the day in July that a 20-year-old man named Thomas Crooks tried to assassinate former president Donald Trump, too many officials and agencies came up short, as we’ve heard again and again.

But we’ve heard far less about another category of first responders — one that appears at every major emergency — who have received very little scrutiny or credit.

Who spotted a man with a gun on a nearby roof and repeatedly told law enforcement, and kept insisting they listen? And after the shooting stopped, who remained orderly and cooperative, generally speaking? It was regular people, like you and me, and it almost always is.

In a perfect world, we would not rely on the general public as our first defense against mass shooters or any other threat. But here’s the thing: we will rely on them when disaster strikes. That’s just reality. So why not start recognizing what regular people do — and plan accordingly?

I’ve interviewed dozens of survivors of all kinds of catastrophes, from tsunamis to plane crashes, and I can tell you that they know extraordinary things, lessons rarely discussed in official homeland security briefings. I ended up writing a book about these ordinary people — and what they wanted the rest of us to know. Because it was not just helpful; it was hopeful. ...

Soon, we’ll commemorate the 23rd anniversary of 9/11. When we do, it’s worth asking: Who brought down the only plane that did not reach its target that day? The passengers aboard Flight 93, who learned that it would be used as a weapon if they did nothing. They deliberated, whispering behind their seat backs and gathering information over their phones. Then, in the decisive moment, they charged the cockpit and changed the course of history.

If regular people got as panic-stricken and selfish in a crisis as most of us think they will, Flight 93 would have almost certainly destroyed the White House or the U.S. Capitol. “It’s highly ironic that our elected representatives were protected on 9/11 by everyday people,” says homeland security expert Stephen Flynn.

The good news is that disasters have gotten dramatically less deadly over the past half century. That’s because we’ve built ever more impressive vaccines, stronger buildings and better warning systems, among other things. But at the same time, we are doing less and less to build better survivors. ...

The next catastrophe is coming. We need to rally all of our resources, which means we need to catalyze a trust recovery — to make it easier for us to trust institutions and one another. Rebuilding that trust starts with recognizing the power that regular schmucks like you and me actually have. We should be telling stories in the media about our power and basing emergency plans around it. Because it’s real.

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