That Was Awkward — Let’s Do It Again
A few weeks ago, I used Paperless Post to create this draft invitation:
I then downloaded the image and texted it to a bunch of fellow parents I like but rarely see. I chose not to use Paperless Post’s built-in RSVP function and email reminders, all of which felt too formal for the gathering I envisioned.
What exactly did I envision?
Above all: a coalition of the willing. I didn’t want anyone to attend out of a sense of obligation. Beyond that, I had two goals:
1) I hoped to create a setting in which our teenagers, all now teetering on the nest’s edge, might hang with us for a couple of hours. I genuinely love their (already-scarce) company, and I am not above conceding to their tacit demands: ample snacks, minimal small talk, and zero overlap with their evening plans. (I get it: even if they have no evening plans, those plans are still better than hanging out with their parents.)
2) I aimed to put at least a tiny dent in the daunting project that is Building Community. For the 17 years (?!) that Chris and I have lived on Bainbridge Island, we have done certain things well: built businesses, cared for extended family, stayed in touch with old friends, fed our children most of the food groups most of the time. But, with a few precious exceptions, we have not done a great job of getting to know our neighbors. As someone who struggles with small talk myself, I decided (singlehandedly — the rest of my family is blameless) that games are the answer.
How did it go?
Our first GNITA (Game Night… In The Afternoon) took place this past Saturday. On the plus side: people came! Most of them willingly! And an actual game was actually played: eight kids, ranging in age from 14 to 18, played a game called Just One for over two hours.
However, there were also what the corporate world would call “learnings”: our house is cramped and got very hot. Perhaps the age-old convention of the RSVP exists for a reason.
Also, it’s adults (not teens) who are the tricky ones. I just couldn’t tell: were the parents happy chitchatting with one another off to the side while their kids played a game? Or would they have preferred to play a game themselves? Alternatively, were they hoping to play a game with the kids — in which case: a) same! and b) how exactly do I make that happen??? Do I invite people to the house and just start bossing them around? (That seems weird, even for me.)
Three days afterwards, I was still mulling all this when I listened to this fascinating conversation between Ezra Klein and community-building expert Priya Parker. The whole discussion was gripping, but two points in particular leapt out:
Klein’s introductory comment that the topic is “a bit of a break from politics — but also not.” Because pulling disparate people together is “as essential as any political or civic discipline could be right now.”
Parker’s insistence that one of the keys to a meaningful gathering is to have “a disputable purpose” — a clear vision that “not everyone would agree with.”
Well, well. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. :-)
I’ve committed to at least two more of these gatherings. I plan to tinker with the format, but together Klein and Parker have given me the confidence to persevere.
Now, tell me if you would about your neighborhood: Do you gather? In what ways and how often? I’d love to hear—and quite possibly steal—from you.
Thanks for reading,
Kate
Image credit: Draft invitation designed using Paperless Post.
This is good stuff, Kate. I do not know ANY of my neighbors in my large apartment complex in Florida (except my sister, and she doesn't count ;-). It doesn't seem like a THING to get to know your neighbors in apartment buildings (where I have lived almost exclusively for the last 20 years, with the exception of two years I spent in Costa Rica and 2 years I spent renting a house with a roommate in Seattle--and I never really met my neighbors in those places either).
I don't know why that is... the transitory nature of those spaces? The Seattle Freeze? (Not a thing in Florida, although here the politics can be bizarre and even scary.) Or do we just not seek community any more in general? I think if I knocked on my neighbor's doors here in this complex and introduced myself, I'd get some weird reactions. But I could post a flyer. I could host a game day. Here's one start: I actually threw a Super Bowl party here two nights ago, and 10 people came (to my sister's place, since hers is bigger, but I organized and did all the food and invites). And it was wonderful. I got so many good reactions and made some deeper connections (they were mostly AA people).
So... it can be done. And it's necessary--one of the things I hear in activist trainings is, "Get to know your neighbors, even if they don't vote the way you do. It's important, especially as our government is trending the way it currently is." So, that's my marching orders, I suppose.
Thank you for your writing and your community work!
Disasters are great for bringing people together. Not that I recommend it, but having just emerged from nine cold days of no power in a arctic freeze, I will say that this is where the community steps up.
Whites Creek is unusual in that we have a few people purposely building community. We don't have a downtown or a central meeting place. After the pandemic lockdown, there wasn't a way for everyone to bump into each other again, so a group of us borrowed an empty lot and threw a "block party." Whites Creek doesn't actually have blocks. We started with a few booths, some face painting, a music stage with hay bales as seating. It's grown each year to multiple music acts, juried arts booths, food trucks, a free children's area of games, crafts and face painting. I joined the group in its first year, but we have added people to the core organizing group through this festival. We do a Christmas party/fundraiser, a spring community cleanup. We've hosted outdoor movie nights, and do a yearly Trail of Tears walk (we are on the northern trail of tears route).
During our recent ice storm disaster, this group was who was texting each other, the people with power offering warmth and hot showers to those without, picking up supplies while out doing errands. One friend ran out of propane, and two of the guys showed up at her house on top of a steep hill (no idea how they got there) and set up a generator. A friend got her power back, and her family showed up at my house with their generator and set it up for us.
I don't know how to apply it in everyday life except to say that this was deliberate. lt began with the vision of one person. So keep at it with the game days. It may turn into a core group who has each other's backs, and are actual friends.