Start Taking Action for Your Community

An impending mental breakdown led me to the nearby McDonalds, desperately searching for some sort of solution to the choking loneliness gripping my chest. I sat in its modernly-decorated lobby, trying to catch my breath as I waited for hot, pre-made food — what felt like a luxury to my exhausted brain. An employee walked up to me, gently and slow; motherly.

“Are you okay?”

She presented me with a miracle, the opportunity to connect and be honest and free. Yet I bit my tongue and swallowed back yet another sob. “Yeah, I’m alright. Thank you.”

I don’t know what would’ve happened if she didn’t ask that. I felt unseen, uncared for and so, so lonely. I wasn’t without support, but I just felt so exhausted and small in my depression-addled brain that digital words and hugs were no longer strong enough.

Her words helped break me out of the doom and gloom, an escape from the cell I had found myself locked in. It was her literal presence that brought me peace, that brought me hope, no matter how seemingly “small” her actions. Her sole question freed me.

That’s the power of community.

Unfortunately, these physical spaces have been withering as digital convenience and ease replaces the need to be present and engage with our community. My elders, even those just a few years older than me, tell me about all the local mom-and-pop shops they grew up with. They can recount their favorites, all these stores specializing in your various needs and wants — spaces to hang out at after school, to meet friends, to make community.

My father remembered one of his favorites a couple days ago, a DVD and game rental store. It had a game you could play with a quarter where, if you won, you got a free rental. My father learned how to master it in his youth, making dozens of childhood memories from these prized movies and games after each win.

Now, you have the benefit of ease. You can rent these movies online, skip talking to the clerk, ignore the chance to connect with a fan who’s browsing around the store and forgo the opportunity to support local businesses — losing out on aiding the creation of a physical space to reside in.

But many of us want to break out of this cycle, as an increasingly large number of my peers are discovering the failings of these digital spaces. From being run by corporations that no longer serve the consumers to protesting their business practices, I’ve seen more digital pushes than ever promoting the concept of community.

Yet when written about, it often feels like this mythic buzzword; something we crave, but cannot tangibly participate in. There are tips, like promoting authenticity and looking beyond your comfort-zone of friends, but many of these online discussions fall flat.

Action is what community is all about.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying action is easy, but it is essential for any healthy community. I often think of old sitcoms and cartoons, the ways in which new neighbors meant greetings and cookies, practically the whole neighborhood seeming curious about this addition to their lives. Sure, this may be a sugarcoated version of reality, but I can assure you it’s not all gone.

A few weeks ago, I went to a city council meeting in Webster Groves. I attended as a journalist, having learned that ICE was on the meeting’s docket. Little did I know, much more was in store for me as the meeting went on.

The Webster Groves City Manager Dr. Marie Peoples had recently announced her resignation, leading to dozens of people coming to celebrate her time and accomplishments promoting the city’s growth. Residents and coworkers sang her praises (literally, somebody created and sang an entire parody of “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” for her) and the mayor hand-served cake to the attendees.

Beyond this, a group of local residents found interest in my presence. Multiple people asked me (mostly on account of my age) why I had chosen to attend a council meeting. I answered honestly and they smiled. They were the reason ICE made it to the docket, sending emails to the council people out of concern for their city; their neighbors.

They took action. Action is not a solitary movement, it’s a communal one.

Each movement; each motion is not without impact, big or small. In light of this, I made it my New Year’s resolution to try being more “intentional” about how I act and react to the world around me. It’s resulted in a variety of changes in my own life, like reaching out to those I haven’t talked to in a while.

It’s been fruitful for rebuilding my own community and a reminder that we are all living through similar struggles. Those I got back in touch with seemed to share my own questions, talking as we danced around the largest of them all: “How are you handling this fear, this uncertainty?”

Perhaps out of politeness, or perhaps out of normalcy, few of us have bridged the gap to ask “What are you doing about it?” It’s a question I’ve failed to realize until recently, one without a clear answer to many of my fellow Gen Zers.

If you’re anything like me, it feels so hopeless and draining. The headlines alone are staggering, much less the impact of these words and actions. I grieve nightly at their implications and weight, waking yet again to another declaration of destruction.

This is not the world we were promised when we were growing up — it’s about time to do something about it.

I believe the solution to responding to the chaos and tragedy around us begins in cultivating true community; the messy community, one that asks of you to look beyond your comfort zone and engage anyways. In joining with your neighbors, in caring for those around you (especially those who are different), you can create something powerful.

Create community that you can turn to when you are in need of support, that will leave soup at your doorstep when you’re too sick to make it yourself. Engage with the people around you, learn the names of the employees at your favorite stores, follow their interests and chat about your lives. Turn into the community that you support when it asks you to, not out of “repayment,” but out of love. Find community beyond a physical location, learn to make it anywhere you stand. These things are not just essential for making change, but to fostering a fulfilling life.

Start feasibly in a way that is important to you. For me, this meant utilizing my strengths in writing to tell undercovered stories around me. I’ve interviewed drag queen nuns and survivors of abuse, sharing their stories with those who may have not known them otherwise.

Then, let it grow into something more. The drag nuns invited me to an event supporting the first ever queer youth conference in the area, Amplify the Arch. The survivor I interviewed has since appeared in my other classes. We’re always excited to see each other and I love when she shares her experiences with me and our class, showcasing community experiences I may be missing.

Let the community teach you what you wouldn’t otherwise know. Had I stayed in my digital bubble, occasionally bumping into bouts of community, I would’ve missed all the wonderful connection that intentional action has brought me.

It’s time to tend to community, letting its roots grow deep and wide. We cannot let this digital divide continue to eradicate what our elders once knew like the back of their hand.