In an ideal world, homeowners with odd-numbered addresses would buy a lawnmower, while those with even numbers would buy a snowblower. They’d pair off and share, halving the cost. In an ideal world, kids from down the block would play in your yard, uninvited. You’d look out your window, see them, and smile.
Alas, we do not live that world, but this one, with our dibs, our fences, our jealously-guarded possessions and valorized selfishness.
But occasionally, a glimpse of that ideal world appears. Such as the story of how Laurel Parks ended up sitting on the front porch of Stephanie and Matt Vasconcellos.
“I’ve honestly been thinking about it for a couple of years,” said Parks. “My plan last year was to put hand-written notes in the mailboxes of people whose porches I like. In West Lakeview there are a lot of nice porches.”
But not on the “great apartment” where she has lived for 13 years.
“I love it,” said Parks. “But there is no outdoor space. Just this window. I get home from work, and I’m not ready to cook dinner. I want to be outside, but don’t want to walk. I want to be able to sit comfortably and peruse the internet, maybe drink a beer.”
Park, 39, an office manager at an investment firm and executive assistant, who moved to Chicago from California in 2009, decided to try something novel.
“Dear porch-possessing neighbors:” Parks posted April 12 on the “What’s Happening in Lakeview” Facebook page. “May I occasionally borrow your porch? As the weather finally starts to turn, I am once again confronted with the harsh reality that I am porchless. I am humbly requesting the occasional use of a porch, somewhere in West Lakeview, for low stakes activities such as: • Reading fairy smut • Staring at my phone • People watching…”
Fairy smut? We’ll get to that. Let’s just say, not what I, seeking use of a stranger’s porch, would lead with.
But it worked. Seventy people responded, most positively.
“People said, ‘I think this is so wholesome and lovely and brave of you,'” said Parks.
This being social media, there was snark, but only a little. “You could just go to a park,” one Captain Obvious observed. Another sneered that if Park wants a stoop to set on, she should move to New York.
She got 15 to 20 offers. Raising the question: which porch?
“It came down to proximity,” she said.
Seven minutes away, Matt and Stephanie Vasconcellos had a brand new front porch overlooking North Clifton Avenue.
“We’re friendly, sociable people,” said Stephanie Vasconcellos. “We lived in a condo for 15 years in East Lakeview, then moved into our current house in 2021. My husband and I liked the idea of having a front porch — last year we commenced to build a front porch. We’re so excited about it. When I saw Laurel’s post, I thought, ‘Why wouldn’t you share it?’ This is something we can’t use all the time, so why not let someone get joy out of it?”
And her husband? An attitude best described as, “Honey, you invited a stranger to come sit on our porch?'”
“I went over,” Parks said. “They were so funny and wonderful about this. It was like an interview — I was sweating through my shirt.”
Matt and Stephanie Vasconcellos have two sons, 12 and 15.
“Stephanie hollered, ‘Boys, come meet Laurel. She’s going to be sitting on our porch,'” Parks recalled.
She brought a gift of cold brewed coffee.
Stephanie, in “the nicest way,” said ‘Don’t do that,'” Parks said. “She made very clear, it’s not transactional.”
And how was the first time, sitting alone on a stranger’s porch?
“A little bit awkward,” admitted Parks. “I didn’t feel totally comfortable, and didn’t want to stay long. Didn’t want to overstay my welcome.”
After 20 minutes she went home.
She’s been back 10 times or so. People walk by, comment on the cats — Molly and Millie — sitting in the window.
“I get a lot of comments on the porch that I don’t own,” Parks said.
The experiment is working out.
“So far, so good,” said Vasconcellos. “If we’re going to the kids’ soccer games, I text her: we’re definitely not going to be using it.”
“It’s so wholesome and it’s so Chicago,” said Parks. “To say, ‘Can I sit on your front porch and read fairy smut?’ and have dozens of people raise their hands and say, ‘Yes.'”
Oh right. Fairy smut. It’s exactly as it sounds — a blend of fantasy and romance involving wee winged creatures, umm, getting it on.
Parks noted that it turned out to be a good thing to allow strangers on your porch.
“Not strangers,” Stephanie Vasconcellos corrected. “Friends.”