Community is inconvenient
And it should be
Hi,
As you know, I talk about community a lot. I love being in and creating community with other disabled and queer people, and I believe it is one of the fundamental things that makes life worth living.
The acceleration of fascism in the US (and here, with Reform) means social media is awash with appeals for us to build and support our communities.
But as I’ve written about before, what that actually means isn’t spelled out for people. And what I’ve noticed is that when examples are given, they come from polar ends of the spectrum: it’s either a nice cosy book club, or putting your safety on the line and a protest.
We’re missing the messy middle: the every day, low-to-medium cost, important but kind of banal stuff that actually forges belonging and safety and all the rest of it. And so we lock people out of community by not really giving them a way in.
So I wrote a list of examples here.
But this week I’ve been thinking about another problem with the focus on those polar ends: one is all sweetness and light - which while important for everyone’s sanity perhaps doesn’t feel like it meets the moment - and one is all big and scary and asks too much of some. And neither, I think, captures the true essence of community, empowers us to find it, or builds it in sustainable ways.
So here’s what I want you to know: community doesn’t demand that we create perfect, joyful spaces or that we risk ourselves (although we can and should when possible).
It simply demands that we tolerate - or, indeed, embrace - inconvenience.
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Or, in other words, do things we don’t necessarily want to, or that make our lives a little bit harder. Not in dramatic or damaging ways, just in inconvenient ones.
Here’s what I mean:
Showing up to stuff when we’d rather just be at home
Lending someone the last bit of milk when we weren’t planning on going to the shop today
Going out of our way to grab something - a food shop, a parcel, a warm coat - for someone
Giving/lending money (if you can) for something urgent, when we were saving it for something nice
Replying to someone seeking advice or support even when we’re knackered
Sharing out the burden of tackling a problem even when it doesn’t affect us personally
Doing stuff for free (only for each other!)
Sitting with - literally and figuratively) people who are having a bad time even when we are too
Doing the hard, often boring work of booking a venue, fundraising or buying stuff for an event
None of this is rocket science. But it is effortful. It takes time and energy and, in all honesty, can sometimes feel unrewarding, because there’s no big marker of success.
But it’s showing that we will do things even when it’s not easy that really builds trust. That makes us feel like people have our backs. It might feel thankless but, in reality, the reward is huge: a network of care that you really know you can rely on, in good times and in bad.
A little inconvenience is a price worth paying.
Speak soon,
Lucy
My book, The View From Down Here: On being disabled in an ableist world, is out in paperback!
And you can order a copy here!
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