Did We Burn the Village Down?

Recently I saw a video where a woman was talking about spending a week at her grandmother’s house. The gist of it was that she was not only shocked at how full her grandmother’s social calendar was, but what the calendar was filled with. An impromptu guest for dinner that had lost his wife and was lonely. Texting her friends to see if they needed anything from the stores she planned to stop at that day. Meeting friends for coffee, to play bridge, etc.

She goes on to lament the fact that younger generations don’t have the same kind of willingness to get together with people without prior planning, or to inconvenience themselves on behalf of others. There is very little swinging by the neighbor’s house to have a cup of coffee. The thought of asking someone to stay for dinner without prepping the menu and cleaning the house sends most of us into a spiral. If it’s not aesthetic and postable on socials, did it even happen?

We’ve lost community. I’m sure there are places where it still exists, but it’s been dwindling for at least the past decade or so, probably longer. 

The first time I ever felt the ache for a community that didn’t seem to readily be there was when I became a mom. I was 22, I was scared, and I felt so alone. My college classes were filled with peers that had no idea what I was going through. I had never met any of my neighbors. My friends all lived 1200 miles away. This lack of community has followed me as my kids have grown up.

So why did this happen? When did we stop wanting to need and help each other? 

The teenage years, filled with angst, are a time when us humans fight for personal autonomy. We feel so stifled by needing our parents, and annoyed when we are asked to do chores that seemingly only benefit others in the household. We dream of the day that we get to leave and be on our own, filling our fridges with only food that we like and leaving the dishes in the sink for however long we want. Being self-centered is part of natural development at this stage of life, a necessary step in preparing to leap into the world and take care of ourselves. 

Some days it feels like our society got stuck in its own teenage years. As we gained more freedoms, got access to technology and saw increased mobility, community felt less imperative. And once we got a taste of these new goodies, we ran with them.

The conversation is clearly nuanced. Freedoms are not a bad thing. Travel keeps us connected to cultures we may have never seen otherwise. The ability to branch out allows us to recognize and reject oppressive systems and traditions. Technology, social media, allows us to have a reach much farther than ever before and hear information and opinions from across the world.

But we do seem to have lost close community. The screens have made us feel so “connected” that now we don’t go outside as much. It’s easier to hire someone through an app to cut your lawn than it is to ask your neighbor’s kid if they want to make some extra cash. Instead of having a conversation with another mom at football practice, we ask Google why our daughter is having mood swings. We spend more time taking pictures of the art in the gallery than looking at the art itself, and wait for the Facebook comments to talk about it instead of commenting out loud to the person standing next to us in the museum. Don’t even get me started on AI.

I think it’s time for our society to grow up. We’ve got to be able to move beyond the silos of our cell phones, our big houses and packed family schedules and back into community. 

There is so much joy in chatting with someone you just met and realizing that they’re going through exactly the same thing you are. There is comfort in knowing that the people around you will lift you up when life throws you down. There is power in shared experience — relating to others is what drives change and improvement, in ourselves and in the people and systems around us. 

We’ll never be able to go backwards. Technology, mobility and social freedoms are here to stay — but I think we can embrace them while also remembering that we are humans that thrive on authentic connection. 

Bring up things that interest you with people you just met. Offer to drop off or send dinner to a mom with sick kids at home. Volunteer at your kids’ schools. Make time for your friends. Use local small businesses. Send letters and birthday cards. Put your phone away when you can. And most of all…open up. Reach out when you’re lonely, or if you think someone else is. Speak your mind, share your feelings. More than likely, someone just around the corner or sitting next to you in the meeting feels the same way.

We all deserve a village — the first step is becoming part of it.

What kinds of things do you think help build community?