Saturday, June 19, 2010

Community...?

I'm a first timer, so you're going to have to help me with this one. I mean, I've heard it said, and came to realize a few working definitions, but I'm not exactly sure what it looks like, or for that matter, if it's something I actively experience. I grew up on a block with friends who moved away, aged much too quick, or turned their backs on me before I ever really was able to understand this, so bare with me in my ignorance. Please, could you tell me what community is?

See, beyond a strong base of friends in my younger years, I was also without a religious community. I mean, there were years in which I went to church, but I don't recall any years where I felt encompassed in a community. I never had a place where everyone knew my name, and beyond my name, knew all about my life. I've had teams, cliques, duos, trios, and best friends, but I don't think they count in the same way. I've never had a place, apart from my house of course, where I've felt at home. Just as there's a difference between the four walled building you live in and a home, there's got to be something more to a home away from home. Where there's community, that feeling of being at home will follow, or so I'd like to think.

Now do that movie thing where a Whoosh! sound effect is laid over a flash of light, and jump to the present with me. I've got what's called a community, and made some very close, supporting, loving friends, but it still feels as though there's something missing. For every person whose life I could tell you about, there are 4 or 5 who I'd pass by on the street without even a hint of facial recognition. Even on a microscopic level, for every one of my peers in my community, there are 2 or 3 who I spend great amounts of time with but know nothing about. This is what causes me to inquire about what makes a community. Is a group name alone enough to solidify unity, or is there more to a community than a flashy name and meeting schedule?

I'll give you my two cents, save them for when the dollar gains some strength. A community, as I see it, brings this feeling of home out in you whenever you find yourself surrounded by your peers. When one stumbles or falls in a community, his pain, however miniscule it may be, is comforted and addressed. Trust and support are actively displayed as reflex reactions to stress, worry, anxiety, loneliness and grief. When troubles appear, your community is there to embrace you as a brother or sister. This isn't done for personal gain, but rather to maintain the integrity and legitimacy of such a group. A community cannot stand on its own without the support of all of its members.

What does this mean for me? It means I'm really confused. I love the people I'm around right now, but I keep thinking, who would I turn to in times of tragedy? The honest answer? Not many people. Definitely not everyone in my community. Why? Because I don't think that everyone in my community really knows me, just as I don't think that I really know everyone there. I mean, I care for them, and they care for me, but I've yet to encounter them on a deeper level. I'm learning that maintaining community isn't easy work, and definitely needs to be done with intentional interaction. But how do you embrace those who don't want to be embraced? How do you generate deep, all-telling conversations with people unwilling to share? Is perseverance enough to make it work? Can you force it to work? I doubt it, but there's got to be something to it. If you have the answers, or just want to engage in these kinds of interactions, let me know. I want these deeper level connections, anything less is unworthy of community.

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