Portland should take a cue from its friendly island counterparts | Column
Jacob Soboroff, a Los Angeles‑based broadcast journalist who hosts an eponymous news program, arrived on a small island off the Maine coast this summer and was immediately struck by a simple, ubiquitous gesture. “Everywhere he went, people were waving at him,” he later recounted in an Instagram post, adding that he first wondered whether the friendly gestures were from viewers of his show or simply a case of mistaken identity. The realization came when he noticed that “everyone else was being waved at, too.” The wave he observed—a quick raise of four fingers from a steering wheel—has become a defining local custom, one that “people who live there do, without fail, as they pass each other,” he said, a routine that “moved [him] deeply.”
Mainers quickly filled the comments section of his post, confirming the practice and noting that the “island wave” is not limited to coastal communities but is a statewide habit. Soboroff’s observation sparked a broader reflection on the state of neighborliness in Maine’s largest city. “I’ve been noticing for a while that the neighborliness among residents of this city seems to be dwindling,” he wrote, describing how two pedestrians passing on a quiet street can feel like an odd omission of basic acknowledgment. He confessed that he has devised a personal protocol to avoid embarrassment when a greeting goes unanswered: he usually offers a subtle closed‑lip smile while keeping his gaze forward, and, if eye contact is sought, he adds a barely audible “hi” that can be mistaken for heavy breathing. When a full “good morning” is returned, he matches the enthusiasm with a wider smile, careful not to trap himself in an endless exchange.
The custom’s presence or absence varies with the flow of foot traffic. In busier corridors, the proportion of people who return a wave drops sharply; groups traveling together often become so absorbed in their own conversation or destination that they effectively ignore passersby, prompting drivers to swerve into single file or even step onto sidewalks to avoid a head‑on encounter. Soboroff likened the experience to a “game of chicken” when he chooses to stay in his lane, a stance shaped by growing concerns over aggressive drivers and the nuisance of ticks in tall grass.
Underlying Soboroff’s observations are several recent incidents that have heightened tension among strangers. In July, a Back Cove resident was accused of throwing semen at pedestrians, while in August a fatal stabbing near Tukey’s Bridge claimed the life of Julu Nadeau. “It’s possible that Portlanders have become more standoffish as a result of the increased incidence of aggression among strangers,” Soboroff speculated, pointing to these events as evidence of a shifting social climate. He also wondered whether the decline of traditional courtesies reflects an aging out of older generations or the influence of an influx of newcomers whose habits differ from the “Maine way” described by local commenters. “The ‘Maine way’ mentioned by commenters on Soboroff’s post doesn’t exist” in Portland, he concluded, yet he added, “I’ll still keep trying.”
Despite the apparent erosion of spontaneous friendliness, Soboroff’s experience underscores a simple truth: a small, consistent gesture—a wave, a smile, a brief greeting—can bridge gaps between strangers. Whether on a quiet island or a bustling Portland street, the act of acknowledging another person’s presence remains, for him, a vital thread in the fabric of community life.
