Two days ago, my mother bravely took my two teenagers shopping for school clothes. When they returned home, they told me that a woman was sitting in her car in front of our house, “just staring at it,” as described by the oldest. Now, we live in a low-income section of town. I love our neighborhood because it has its own personality and pulse. Our neighborhood is messy at times. It’s loud when it wants to be and quiet when it needs to be. It can also be a bit dysfunctional at