What do we mean when we ask for community?

As part of my commitment to anti-racism, I’ve been participating in sessions with Resmaa Menakem, Carlin Quinn, and many white bodies something called Somatic Abolitionism. A natural part of this work for me has been unlearning old patterns and ways of being community, reimagining them, and working towards feeling that difference in the body. Recently, we had a session where we were asked to journal about community. In that session, I realized that community is something I hear a lot of people talking about and it is worth exploring here a bit. I don’t have all the answers, but I do offer this blog post as an opportunity to explore your own understanding of community. It may contrast greatly with my ideas and that’s okay. I hope we can all learn from each other.

What do we mean when we ask for community?

Increasingly, in the work I do as an individual and the work I do with others, I hear about a need for community. It’s something that many people seem to be searching for. While it seems clear that the absence of it is felt, I’ve also become more and more curious about what we actually mean when we talk about community. What I can sense, is a deep longing when people talk about community. To be honest, most of us are asking for something for ourselves—we want support, we want a better life, we want connection, etc. Sometimes, we consider what we can offer—skills, abilities, material things, etc.

However, I believe this is only the beginning. When we ask for community, I wonder if there is a deep desire to live life differently, to be different, to experience every moment in a way that honors all humanity and all of nature. I wonder.

What does community mean?

It seems to me that sometimes community is described in terms of what we don’t have that we feel we need, that we believe others can provide. For example, I feel lonely, so I feel I need a community of people to be around/do things with in order to feel less lonely. Or, perhaps, I’m tired of the day to day stressors of the nuclear family and recognize that living in community might help relieve me of some of the domestic burdens of life.

However, we can also think about community in terms of what it already is. For example, a community can include people near you geographically–in your apartment complex, neighborhood, city, state, etc. It can be people you connect with around interests–clubs, studies, religious or spiritual beliefs, etc. It can be the people you grew up with, the people you met in your adult life, and more. Community can mean survival, after all, humans are not meant to be solitary creatures.

One common denominator I see is that it consists of a group of people with whom we experience a sense of belonging. That being said, I believe it can, and hopefully will, include animals, nature, mother earth. It can be about something greater than ourselves.

What are some reasons we are looking for it?

I wonder if part of the reason community is a hot topic these days is because of recent events. Things like the pandemic led to reimagining a great deal of how we live–realizing we could shift to an online world, feeling more isolated, but also having more time and space to consider what is really important. It was a time where a great deal changed in a short period of time. Also, our sense of reliance on each other became more intense. This had lots of different reactions, but it helped us to see we impact each other.

Although the pandemic has certainly had an impact, I also believe that community is something that has been missing for many people for a long time. As colonizers spread all over the world, people were separated into categories like race, and capitalism became a terrifying and, often violent, driving force. It has destroyed lives while giving others access to terrible levels of power and wealth. As the powerful and dominant groups have continued to use and abuse others, it becomes increasingly scary and difficult to feel a sense of belonging with others.

At the same time, human beings are biologically driven for connection and belonging. This means, community is something that helps us stay alive, to thrive, and to grow. I believe many of us know we need connection and belonging with others and can sense how far we, as humans, have strayed from valuing this. It seems to me we are afraid of community while also sensing our need for it.

What does it mean to be part of it?

One thing, in my reflection on community, that I’ve come to believe is that community isn’t owed to me. I am not entitled to it so much as I can bring myself to it. In other words, I do not get to have it. Rather, it is something I can live into. I can offer it. I get to ask myself how I can be receptive, open, and willing to reach out. Can I tolerate the challenges we might face when connecting? Can I hold others accountable without shaming and blaming? Can I hold myself accountable and be willing to change?

For me, I realize that community is about love. A strong and movable love. Not a pretty, tidy, convenient love, but one that knows how to be annoyed with someone and still love them.

In my journaling about community, I wrote that community is about being able to breathe. It is about caring that others are able to breathe. It is about valuing life. At least that’s part of my understanding right now.

Possible questions to ask yourself about being in community:

What would community mean for me?

How would I know I’m in community?

What would I offer to my community?

How would those in my community know that they belong to me?

How would I know I belong in my community?

When I visualize my community, who do I see? What are we doing? Who might I be excluding? Am I willing to expand my vision?

Building community is not a small task. It requires healing on many levels. It is something that will take time, sustained effort, and a willingness to learn and grow. It isn’t something we can plan, but rather it is the creation of something living.