Bring Back the Front Porch: One Hour That Changed Our Family

On most weeknights our house feels like a small airport. Someone is arriving from practice; someone is leaving for dance and someone else is circling the kitchen like a plane waiting to land. A few years ago, my wife and I tried a simple experiment to slow the “traffic.” We brought back the front porch (or backyard).

Here is the idea. For one hour a week, usually Sunday evening, we sit outside together. Phones stay inside. We keep it simple, just folding chairs, water or lemonade and whatever snack is easiest. People wave. The breeze does most of the work. In that small space, our family finds time to breathe and talk.

Why the porch or backyard? It makes eye contact easier. It lowers the temperature on tense topics. You cannot storm off a porch as easily as you can storm out of a kitchen. It also keeps the conversation grounded in real life. The world is literally walking by, and that seems to help teenagers say more than “I am fine” when you ask how they are doing.

This is how we set it up. We pick a time and protect it like a game or a rehearsal. Everyone knows it is one hour, not an open-ended meeting. A rotating “host” puts out chairs and picks the snack. We begin with three quick prompts that we can handle at any age: one high from the week, one learning moment and one “God moment,” which can be anything from a line someone heard at Mass to a kind word from a teacher. No speeches. No fixing right away. Listening comes first.

The rule that changed everything is simple. If someone shares a problem, the first response is “Thank you for telling us.” After that we ask, “Do you want advice or just a teammate right now?” Teens usually answer honestly if you give them the choice. Our younger one sometimes just wants someone to laugh at the joke she’s been thinking about all day.

We end with a short prayer. Deuteronomy 6:7 tells us to talk about God’s words when we sit at home and when we walk along the road. For us, this time counts as both. Most weeks it is one verse, one sentence of thanks and a sign of peace. If a child is restless, that is fine. The point is not perfect reverence. The point is being together.

What has changed? Fewer blowups in the middle of the week. More quick apologies before bed. Our kids start to ask better questions of one another. My wife and I catch small concerns before they turn into big ones. We have learned little things that matter, like the way one child prefers a heads-up before a change of plans, or how another one needs 10 minutes alone after getting in the car from a rough day. We also notice our neighbors more. Time outside invites hello. A hello grows into a name. A name grows into a small act of care, like sharing king cake.

If you want to try this, keep it light and repeatable.

1. Pick one hour that most weeks will work. Put it on the calendar.
2. Create a space to place phones and use it yourself first.
3. Choose three prompts and stick with them for a month.
4. Assign small jobs so everyone owns a piece of the hour.
5. Close with a short prayer or a simple “Lord, thank you for this family. Help us care for each other this week.”

You do not need a porch to do this. A backyard, or even the tailgate of a pickup will work. Use what you have. If it rains, sit by an open window and listen. New Orleans is good at turning regular places into sacred ones. Your block can be one of them.

If your home already has its own rhythm, add the porch hour for a month and see what happens. If your family is stretched thin, all the more reason to give it a try. One hour can reset seven days. It did for us. And it might give someone the quiet they need to hear God’s call.

A quick word about Vocations Week. National Vocation Awareness Week is almost upon us this year. This is a good time to ask our children and our friends what God might be inviting them to do with their gifts. Some will be called to marriage and family life. Some may feel a nudge toward the priesthood, diaconate, or religious life. Encourage them with a simple, “I see this in you.”

 Invite a seminarian, sister, or deacon to dinner. Pray one Hail Mary for someone who is discerning. Small encouragements matter more than we think.

Gavin C. Lewis Sr., a native of New Orleans, is married and has four young children. He is a graduate of McDonogh 35 Senior High School, earned a bachelor's degree from the University of Louisiana in Lafayette, a master’s in educational leadership from the University of Holy Cross pursuing a doctorate in organizational development.