The Village Contract

I live in a small village nowadays, a distinctly differently feeling than living in a small town or even a tight community within a town. The village concept creates a sense of unity, and though everyone lives quite apart from each other, often deep in the woods, the identity of the village is very strong. Add to that the fact that we actually live quite close to some of the largest cities in the world, and our village almost has a deliberate sense of removal, of a group of people choosing to live in a more interrelated and amicable way (except when it comes to tax discussions, and then there is little amicable about the conversation).

So when a pretty, young mom who worked as a nurse and caretaker was murdered in her bed two nights ago in the neighboring village, and when her young daughter was rushed to the big city hospital with her left-for-dead wounds, it made headlines around here. It was the first murder in the area in over forty years. The four young men later charged with the crime were all from surrounding villages with a similar sense of community and accountability. Their arrest, and motives, have been the talk of all conversations around here.

What has been surprising to me about this is how different it feels to experience something as awful as this in the village than in the big city. I grew up in a huge city, and spent a career moving from one locale of 10 million to another. Crime comes with living in the city, and yet the crime is almost always impersonal. If you are a law-abiding resident of the city, you fear the random crimes, of being in the wrong place in the wrong time. You seek out well-lit lots and busy places and speed through the not so nice areas of town. But you also know that the crime is there, is happening, and in order to go out into the city each day you have to kind of shut off a part of your brain in order to deal with it. These are city skills.

When people move to (or stay in) the village, when they separate deliberately, they tend to leave behind the expectation that crime will be random. Crime is rare in places like this because it usually is personal; there is little anonymity to hide behind as there is in the city.

And yet the horrible crime committed in the middle of the night two days ago was just that – random. The house was chosen randomly, the victim murdered because she was in it. It was a total violation of the village contract by other members of the village. And the response has been tremendous: people are angry. Really angry, in fact, because they are taking it personally. I’ve only lived here a few months and I’m furious. I lived in cities for years and would read or hear about such awful things – even close by – and just feel terribly sad for the victims and their families. I certainly still feel the sadness, but there is something more. And I am only a new addition to the village. Some of my neighbors are still living on the land grants their ancestors received from English kings.

All that to say, I have a lot more understanding of some of the dynamics in American history now. So much of the major movements in U.S. history (and its scandals – think of the Salem witch trials) happened in the villages. We (unfortunately) use the term “small town” nowadays in a slightly condescending manner to imply lack of access to the resources and education of the city. I don’t think of the American Revolution as being hatched anywhere away from the action, but I do see how the village contract made all incursions and activities by the British feel like particularly personal violations, even when the decisions and violence were random. I never totally got it until now – it is different than being a part of a community or group within a larger city or in a small town with various families.

The village is a physical space with boundaries and lines. It has specific members. It has a distinct character. And an act of violence against someone in the village is an act of violence against the village itself. Powerful stuff.