There was a “boys” street and a “girls” street. Such a natural divide, one in society and my neighborhood. But really it was just the facts. My house resided on the “girls” street, Davis Street. The “boys” street was name Everett Street. I moved to Kern’s neighborhood when I was four. My parents divorced when I had just turned nine and my dad moved to his first apartment literally just around the corner. My parents had decided that he moved so close so I could stay in the neighborhood when I spent every other weekend with him. I was attached, it was my home. The boys street had more boy kids on it, and the girls street had younger kids that were all girls it was about a block span of measurement, but good enough for me. We spent summers catching butterflies and running through yards. Our feet calloused from our time spent prancing around the streets without shoes. Nightly tag was the game of choice. Or hide and seek. I used to have a huge crush on this boy named Levi, everyone did. Our deeply tanned arms had intense tan lines from drawing chalk. We’d swing dangerously from this tall mimosa tree we would scamper up and grab a giant, dirt ridden rope and swing down across my neighbors front yard.

My parents moved to this neighborhood because my best friend, Grace and her family lived across the street. They were my second home. Her parents took care of me everyday when mine were working or dealing with their divorce. They took me on family trips and fed me food. We were inseparable. Her family dog, Millie was my dog. And their home was just right across the street. I’d water their plants for them when they were on trips, and pick up their mail.

There was a Davis Street directory, with all of our neighbors contact information. We would have summer block parties and potlucks. But my next door neighbors, there were three girls, moved out at the end of high school, moved out because their parents got divorced and then things started to naturally separate. I was one of the oldest, just by a year, but I went off to high school first, going to a school farther than the rest of them. Our neighborhood boundaries for public schools divided me and put me at a high school not close by at all. Everyone went to Grant which was much closer. The summer games, potlucks, and comradery slowly dissipated. When I go home I see my friend Grace and her family, but no one else. The kids grew up and our community has been diminished. Sometimes I just want to go back to our carefree days of frolicking outside, playing hopscotch and swinging from trees. But all I know is that Kerns will be my neighborhood.

We even had a