We spent a lot of time in class this week talking about what our neighbourhoods mean to us, and how where we live defines or shapes who we are. However, I think what was left unsaid and perhaps was only inferred was how our neighbourhood, or at least how we perceive our neighbourhood, shapes how we see other neighbourhoods.

Although I’ve recently moved to Thornbury, Coburg maintains a close place in my heart, a place I’m very proud of and will I suppose protect from criticism. My parents still live there so I spend plenty of time there as it is. What’s always struck me about people’s perceptions of Coburg is that the further away they live from the suburb, the more negative/sketchy their perception is. Another student and I both touched on how Coburg has this reputation as maybe dangerous and sketchy, when it really isn’t, and it made me think about why this perception exists.

My theory is that we form these conceptions of other neighbourhoods based on how they differ from our own. Perhaps it’s the run down, old world bustle of Sydney Road that other places lack that translates into an image of criminality? Perhaps it’s the late night kebab shops, or the darkened suburban streets once you stray from the main way? I hate to say it but it also might be the dwindling but enduring reputation of Lebanese and other Middle Eastern groups in the area.

I by no means want this to infer that I see my neighbourhood/s as more real or complete than others. The last two weekends I’ve gone away, first to a friend’s house in Anglesea and then to a wedding in Sorrento, which took me through parts of the world I’ve always thought I could never live in. My youth in an inner-city suburb has perhaps conditioned me to believe I could only live in a dense, multi-cultural part of town close and connected to the city itself. However, driving through places like Point Cook and Mornington and Rosebud I realised that, of course, these places are self-contained and liveable communities in their own right.

In particular, I spent a long time in a “bazaar” of sorts in Rosebud. On a Sunday morning, the people of the area had all pulled up in their utes and vans and set up little impromptu stalls selling all sorts of things I’d never think to see. There were two full-fledged illegal DVD stands, going as far as taking requests for TV shows that had recently come out in the US to sell at the next market. There were dozens of old folks selling trinkets, broken pieces of ceramic, even a tub of bones (???). There were a myriad of food stalls, vintage clothing, someone selling soaps. You think of these beachsides towns as places really only inhabited during the summer holidays, but you could see that they had their own established community and neighbourhood that one might not envision coming from the city.

I don’t think I’ve sufficiently answered this thought, but I think throughout this course it will be interesting to at least touch on the idea that neighbourhood not only shapes us, but also how we see others.