Welcome to Mother’s Gonna Work it Out – a newsletter not just for mothers with children, but for everyone who cares for anyone.
It was the moment when the local crackhead, a sweet-faced retiree and a group of impeccably dressed 20-somethings came together to sing the chorus of Luther Vandross’s Never Too Much, that I knew this year’s street party was going to be my favourite yet.
Each year, our north London street hosts a gathering for residents, friends and family. We all chip in £20 to cover the basics, block off the street, and put on events like snail racing, Bolivian dancing, bake offs, bands, choirs and air-guitar lessons.
Our contribution to the party is to set up our decks outside the flat and play some records. We had eight DJs this year – our biggest line-up yet, and it was me who dropped the Vandross classic. The joy was enormous.
Following the news of the Queen’s passing, this year’s party almost didn’t happen. But, after careful consideration, we decided to go ahead as it’s a celebration of community, and lots of neighbours were raising money for charity.
Coming together feels more important than ever at the moment. The UK’s going through a tough time, with many in mourning and the air thick with concern for the difficult times ahead. The jury’s out on the new prime minister, Liz Truss, too.
But here we all were, dancing together on the street. Some friends had travelled far and wide to be with us; we held babies we’d not yet met, hugged partners we’d heard so much about, and added a shimmering memory to the store of happy moments we share with those we’ve known forever.
Enzo and Tatiana from our local deli had set up a table of quiches and cakes next to the decks, and children jostled for the doughnuts with multi-coloured sprinkles before tearing up and down the car-less street on their bikes. Dexter had the time of his life, wandering in and out of houses and picking up toys along the way.
As if on cue, a double rainbow appeared as our 87-year-old neighbour trotted across the road to join another neighbour’s parents who’d come down from Liverpool for the day, brandishing a bottle of red wine.
Our last tune of the night was Odyssey’s Hang Together. ‘We gotta hang together, we better hang together, hang, hang, hang together,’ we chanted under a sky lit bright by a full moon.
We’ve already set the date for next year’s party – 9 September 2023. You’re all welcome.