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In Defense of Real-Life Community Membership

Writer: Audrey Ann MasurAudrey Ann Masur



Ah, community. We hear this word often, don't we? In the last several years we've become increasingly comfortable using this word to describe groups of people online who share similar viewpoints, or from whom we receive tips for a particular lifestyle, orthopraxy, or hobby. When it comes to our physical community, we often hear, "Just get involved!" It is good advice, but why should we heed it? For someone who will move in a few years, is community membership sacred or superfluous?


Wendell Berry writes:

A community is not merely a condition of physical proximity [...] A community is the mental and spiritual condition of knowing that the place is shared, and that the people who share the place define and limit the possibilities of each other’s lives. It is the knowledge that people have of each other, their concern for each other, their trust in each other, the freedom with which they come and go among themselves.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about community, it's that building community is not the same as making friends. Friendships and community can overlap, but not necessarily. The sooner I realized this, the happier I became. Community membership is more than just making chums with whom you pass the time. It’s more than avoiding loneliness and hoping people like you. It is all of these things, but sometimes I think the crux of the matter gets lost in our desire to receive help or alleviate loneliness, which are real and valid needs. If we look a bit deeper and articulate why community matters in the first place, we can then unravel the "how" more easily and authentically.


It's good to consider the various communities in our world, specifically people in physical proximity, those committed to one another and to place. We see them caring for the land, the buildings, the culture, one another. I've benefitted from watching documentaries on various tribes and people groups in which each person had a role and played their part in the greater "team effort." Even their clothing identified them as a part of their community. While I do firmly believe in the importance of individual choice and freedom, I think somewhere along the way many of us have become too individualistic in our thinking. We've forgotten our deeply rooted need to be a part of a group as human beings, specifically the kind we bump into, the kind who see our unfiltered life off-screen.


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For those of us who lead transient or transplanted lives, we may naturally identify with people who are also transient or old friends we stay in touch with online, or we might even identify with a sports team from "back home." Actual, physical community is more about just getting the day-to-day tasks accomplished. Does it really matter if we're good members of our physical community?


In the Blue Zones (areas of the world with the most longevity), community membership is one of the identified aspects of a healthy lifestyle that leads to purpose and gentle aging. There is much more to health than proper food and exercise. We are holistic beings and our bodies and brains respond accordingly. So yes, there is scientific data to confirm your need for real community. But really, don't we already know this? For those of us who've transplanted several times, we have to view community differently, with more self-preservation in place. Perhaps we feel a bit removed from those around us. And that's okay. It's to be expected, really. But may our self-preservation eventually allow us to recalibrate and have the freedom to share something of ourselves, with real and purposeful presence.

On an episode of the American sitcom Parks and Recreation, a new guy in town (Justin) seems friendly, charismatic, and easily invested and interested in the people of the small town. But it turns out he's merely gathering stories like fodder for his fire of power and intrigue. He sees their stories as personal entertainment, material for his snide act in the next town.


Ron Swanson says of him, "He’s a tourist. He vacations in people’s lives, takes pictures, puts them in his scrapbook, and moves on. All he’s interested in are stories. Basically [...] he’s selfish."


I loved this line so much, because I have observed in those of us who travel, a desire to show *ourselves* interesting based on the places we've seen and people we've encountered. Instead of truly honoring, we end up exploiting. If you ask me, 'honor' is the most important word to hold onto as you enter a new place and work to make a life there. We honor our new community, its culture, and we honor our own family and our own culture. We can give respect and show we believe in another person's dignity even when we don't like them particularly. Funny stories have their place (laughter can be GOOD!), but let's not lose our ability to honor in the process.


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The last several years I've been learning the balance of initiating relationships and also resting in the ones I have, while simply being present with my little family. I don't have this figured out; I just care about it. Sometimes it's awkward or even hurts a bit. Actually, I was turned down for coffee by a "cool mom" just a few weeks ago. Not even a "Let's do that sometime..." just a straight up "Life's so busy...yeah. Bye!"


I felt my fourteen-year-old insecurities resurface quickly after this incident. I wondered if I dressed too casually for the Cotswolds or seemed a wild mess with my children. There is a decent amount of wealth and manners in this area of the world, and I am learning that good breeding is not the same as authentic kindness. In her defense, I feel the need for friends more than established locals. I don't know what's going on in her life, and I need to honor her 'no' even though it felt like straight up snobbery. Most people do lead busy lives these days and may not be interested in new relationships.


But I HAVE made some friends here and built a community in our village and the surrounding area. It's taken time, work, and care, but it's possible and worthwhile.


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It is a most vulnerable thing to extend your hands, palms up asking for more than proximity, asking to earn your place as a (temporary) member of community. But it may well be one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself, your family, and yes, your community. Remember, the locals of a community are not likely to appreciate how vulnerable, exhausted, and on-display you feel. Give them grace.


Sometimes it's the people you least expect who end up coming alongside you. When it comes to community membership, there's quite a bit of whimsy along with the work. We are people, made with dignity and made for honor in the image of our Creator. Community membership is living out this belief in joy and thanksgiving. We are saying, "My life does not matter more than yours, and I'm glad you're here. I, too, belong to this place, even for now, and so in some small way, we belong to one another."

 
 
 

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ABOUT

I’m Audrey Ann—a writer who treasures the gift of travel, and I’m a mama who endeavors to love where I live one playdate, grocery trip, and sunset at a time. An island girl with heartland roots, I currently live in the Cotswolds of the United Kingdom. 

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