As a child, I knew that the inner-city, activist community I grew up among in Cleveland, Ohio, was quirky (and as a high schooler who just wanted to be normal, I was even embarrassed by parts of it).

People left their doors unlocked, popping in with a knock to announce themselves while out running errands or walking the dog; we spontaneously gathered for potluck dinners in someone’s backyard; loud conversations about counter-cultural movements like pacifism and leftwing Catholic “liberation theology” seemed, to me, just the way of the world.