The future of America may depend less on who lives in the White House and more on whether we know who lives in the white house next door. Every election season reminds us how much energy we pour into national politics. We debate candidates, consume headlines, refresh polling data, and argue over policies that originate hundreds or thousands of miles away. We know the names of senators we have never met, commentators we will never meet, and public figures who will never know we exist. Meanwhile, many of us could not tell you the first name of the person who lives three doors down. That disconnect isn’t just ironic. It may be one of the greatest challenges facing our communities.  A healthy nation isn’t built exclusively from the top down. It’s built from the sidewalk up. Neighborhoods are where trust is formed. They are where children learn what community looks like, where crises become manageable because someone notices, and where loneliness can be interrupted by a knock on ...

Author's note: You can register for Neighboring 101 (one-time fee) on the MU Extension website  in order to attend this session on May 21 live. SPRINGFIELD, Mo. --  In many small towns, the conversation about growth tends to revolve around infrastructure, jobs, and attracting outside investment. But one of the most powerful (and often overlooked) assets is already there: local creativity.  When communities tap into their artistic talent, they don’t just beautify spaces—they build identity, pride, and a shared sense of belonging. From Empty Spaces to Shared Places Arts-led development has a unique way of transforming the everyday landscape. A blank wall becomes a storytelling canvas. An empty lot turns into a gathering space. A quiet alley evolves into a destination. In Mount Sterling, Kentucky, the Gateway Regional Arts Center has demonstrated just how impactful this approach can be. Through initiatives like a public art trail and the vibrant Umbrella Alley installation,...

  In his essay " The Work of Local Culture ," Wendell Berry invites the reader to pause beside an old, battered bucket hanging on a fence post. Over the years, rain and snow, fallen leaves, nuts, animal droppings, insects, and time itself have worked together inside that bucket to create rich, dark soil. Berry calls this slow accumulation “the greatest miracle that I have ever heard of”—not because of the bucket itself, but because of what it reveals about how cultures and communities flourish when left to their own rhythms and attentions.  At first glance, the bucket’s transformation is a simple natural process. Left alone, the contents rot and regenerate into humus—the very basis of life for soil-dependent ecosystems. But Berry immediately, and intentionally, turns this natural phenomenon into a parable for human cultural life. Just as the bucket collects leaves and organic matter over time, so must a viable community collect its own stories, memories, values, and shared la...

  Photo by Jym Wilson in the Springfield Daily Citizen There’s a verse tucked away in Jeremiah that feels especially timely for the world we’re living in today. The prophet writes, “But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.” That line was spoken to people who felt displaced, frustrated, and far from home. In other words, to people a lot like us. The Israelites weren’t exactly thrilled about Babylon. It wasn’t where they wanted to be, and it certainly wasn’t what they had planned. Yet God didn’t tell them to withdraw, complain endlessly, or sit on the sidelines waiting for things to improve. Instead, He told them to get involved. Plant gardens. Build homes. Pray for the city. Care about the place you’re in, even if it’s not the place you’d choose. That message still rings true. It’s easy these days to criticize our communities—from school boards to city councils, from neighbor...

If you live in a subdivision with a Homeowners Association (HOA), chances are you’ve heard something like this: “Your grass is too tall,” “Your trash can was visible,” or “Your mailbox paint is fading.” HOAs are known for enforcing neighborhood rules—and sometimes doing it with too much force and too little compassion.  But what if HOAs focused more on building social connections and less on writing warnings? What if they worked to bring neighbors together rather than drive wedges between them? In this essay, we’ll explore why HOAs would better serve their residents if they prioritized community building over strict enforcement. We’ll also look at the difference between HOAs and Neighborhood Associations, and how a shift in focus could help people feel more connected, respected, and supported—especially in places like Springfield and Republic, Missouri. HOA vs. Neighborhood Association: What’s the Difference? First, let’s clear up a common confusion. Many people think an HOA and a ...

Too often, placemaking sounds like something reserved for city planners or expensive downtown projects. It brings to mind consultants, architects, and budgets that most neighborhoods could never dream of. But real placemaking—the kind that builds connection and pride where you live—doesn’t require any of that. In fact, you can do a lot for under $100. The best placemaking doesn’t begin with money. It begins with neighbors. 1. Make It Look Alive You don’t need a big event to make your street feel vibrant. A few small touches can send a big message: people care about this place. Decorate windows, fences, or porches with simple seasonal displays. Hang paper snowflakes, paint flowerpots, or invite neighborhood kids to create cheerful chalk art on the sidewalks. You could even organize a “window gallery” where neighbors display art, photos, or collections in front windows for others to enjoy during evening walks. These simple gestures transform ordinary spaces into signs of life and f...

  This movie is being screened at the Moxie Cinema in Springfield, Missouri, on Sunday, Sept. 28 at 2:30 p.m. to launch Missouri Good Neighbor Week. Tickets are free and available online  but are limited in number. There will be a group discussion following the film. In a time when societal divisions often seem insurmountable, Leap of Faith offers a compelling testament to the power of dialogue, empathy, and shared humanity. Directed by Nicholas Ma and produced by Morgan Neville, this documentary follows 12 Christian pastors from Grand Rapids, Michigan—representing a spectrum of theological, racial, and political perspectives—as they embark on a year-long journey to bridge their differences through intentional conversation and fellowship. A Bold Experiment in Unity The pastors, brought together by Michael Gulker of The Colossian Forum, engage in a series of retreats designed to confront contentious issues such as race, gender, and sexuality. Rather than seeking to resolve ...

Let me recommend a practical guidebook for anyone looking to create a more vibrant neighborhood or town. It’s called Building a Vibrant Community by Quint Studer, and it’s based on the real-life transformation of Pensacola, Florida. The book reads like a roadmap for renewal—packed with wisdom, missteps, and lessons learned. Given how rare it is to find case studies of this depth and honesty, this should be required reading for anyone serious about revitalization—whether you're a mayor, a chamber director, or just the one neighbor in the cul-de-sac who refuses to give up on your town. The book covers the messy, beautiful business of building momentum, handling different personalities, engaging youth, navigating setbacks, and empowering local entrepreneurs. It doesn’t sugarcoat the process—it shows how hard it can be to shift a community culture. But it also shows how deeply worth it that journey is. Early on, Studer offers a definition that’s both visionary and practical:  “Gre...

Do you have a special talent for spotting someone’s excitement and shutting it down? Do you find satisfaction in watching a big idea shrink into a quiet shrug? Then you might be exactly who your town does not need. Some towns have people who can listen to a new idea for a park, community event, or downtown improvement—and with a raised eyebrow or a slow shake of the head, bring it all to a halt. There are always those ready to remind everyone of every reason a dream won’t work. “We tried that in 1987,” they say with confidence, even if no one remembers. “People around here won’t go for that,” even if no one’s actually asked them. They sit in meetings nodding politely while thinking, “Not a chance.” They gently file passionate proposals into the trash with a well-practiced smile. They hold the keys to empty storefronts and unused buildings, choosing to let them fade rather than hand them over to someone with a fresh idea. In towns where young people come with energy and hope, these voi...