On Community

I use the word community a lot for a person who doesn’t have a great definition for it. It’s more of a feeling in my bones than something I can put into words when called upon to do so. It is one of those education buzzwords that’s often given in job interviews, like differentiation or graphic organizers, “I want to build a community of learners.” Boom. You’re suddenly entrusted with teaching 75 teenagers the importance of democracy. But in my personal life community has come to be what I am constantly seeking.

I have found community in church and I’ve found it at work. I’ve seen community play out in small towns-the coming together in crisis or rallying around the local basketball team. I’ve been host to community over shared love of books, wine, or Jesus depending on the season of my adult life.

I was raised by community. Small and isolated. Community with big hearts for their own but that rarely extended far beyond town limits. I’ve left community and its comforts many times and inevitably experienced a pang of regret.

And with each move I’ve also experienced isolation, at parties where community is present and I am not a part of it. Having been in this new city for only a few months, my community is only starting to form. It could easily be lost as I attempt to build trust and share experiences. I am grateful for it but always hesitant.

Instead my community lives in Mississippi and Virginia. East Africa and Kentucky. Selfishly, I want community in my immediacy-next door for shared days and meals. But then I wouldn’t be able to experience and give love to a global community of people who do amazing work in their own cities, following their passions and extending our collective community by adding more-building a longer table and not a higher fence-as the saying goes.

Whatever community is I hope you find it and hold tightly to it. When you move or they move, through change and growth, differing opinions and seasons of prolonged absence. May you always come back to your community, not expecting too much of each other but loving each other just as hard when you reunite.

Community

I live in a red county in a state that is blue thanks only to it's proximity to the capital. I sponsor the Diversity Club in a school whose population is 94% white. I sponsor Young Democrats in a school where the 8-10 students who dare attend through the boos and hisses of Carhartts in the hall must also hide their membership from their parents.

On November 9th a handful of them came to our meeting in room 315 with heavy hearts and a million questions. They read comments from classmates on Twitter that made my stomach churn. I did my best to give hard, honest answers and reminded them to consider their privilege as I often have to remind myself. Then from the same tear-soaked face that had just earnestly said "I'm scared" (rendering me more helpless than I've ever felt)  came a light bulb, "Why don't we have a community meal for everyone who is scared and hurting?"

So, on Saturday that is exactly what our town of just over 400 will do. We will come together and break bread reminding ourselves that though the world is big and the troubles overwhelming we must begin with our community and grow from there.

If you are in Floyd on Saturday I hope you will join us at Plenty! from 11:00-2:00 to be together in love. Everyone is welcome.