The weavers of community
In December 2023, my fellow Capita board members and I were invited by CEO Joe Waters and chief strategy officer Caroline Cassidy to reflect on visions of flourishing in an age of unraveling.
Much in the world felt – and still feels – heavy. And so Caroline and Joe suggested we write about what was giving us hope. I thought about it, and wrote about the people who support their communities to flourish.
When we think of care, many of us think of one-on-one caregiving. But I’ve been struck, too, amidst everything this year, by those who care for groups, organizing and building community. The ones who support their communities to flourish.
Since arriving in my town in the north of England two years ago, I’ve admired the work of Gale, who outside of running a Chinese restaurant with her husband, coordinates a weekly community group for people new to the UK and curates a library of children’s books in dozens of languages in a cozy, colorful basement room. I’ve been inspired by the passion and thoughtfulness of the dozens of volunteers that Janett, Sophia, and Kellé have mobilized to tackle racism in our county, including support for young Black and brown people.
This organizing and building of community is everywhere. In the last month alone, I’ve chatted with:
Ruby in the Philippines, Dian in Indonesia, and Mahmuda in Bangladesh, who bring together residents of informal settlements at the local, national, and global scales to fight for land rights and better housing for their families and neighbors.
Ryan in Long Beach, California, who builds networks to connect the local “seeders,” “feeders” and “eaters” to increase local households’ access to fresh food by drawing on the assets they already have locally.
A friend and former classmate, Kafia, who organizes regular Zoom “teach-in” sessions from her home in Atlanta for people who want to learn more about Palestine.
Maggie, a friend and former colleague, who’s built a thriving global community of “intrapreneurs,” people working to make positive change from within their organizations.
Sam, a dear friend in London, who started an English-language reading and conversation group for women new to the UK so that they’re better equipped to care for themselves and their families.
It’s work that requires persistence and sensitivity. It often involves administrative work and literal organizing. It benefits from a low ego, someone who’s happy to be behind the scenes. And it’s all being done either unpaid or while fighting for support and funding.
Maggie, of the intrapreneurs, noted how hard it can be to get funders to support what she refers to as “relational infrastructure”–as Sam Rye writes, the “web of human relationships and ways of being that enable us to work together, and make change possible.” The people she knows who’ve been able to get funding for community building have had to talk about scale, rather than relationships.
Earlier this year I researched funders winding down their programs and seeking ways to leave a lasting impact once their funding ends. It turns out that most of them are working to strengthen networks and relationships. If this work is so important to leaving a lasting impact and if we know that relationships are central to flourishing, why is that funding so hard to come by?
At a time when it can feel like the world is unraveling, the work of community builders reminds us that care extends beyond one-on-one interactions, as critically important as those are. Our collective well-being is deeply rooted in the strength of the connections amidst which we live our lives. And community builders work quietly, consistently, to weave threads between us to create a resilient fabric that supports young children, families, and us all.
I had to keep the essay short and geographically varied, but we can all think of so many friends, colleagues, and acquaintances who give their time and energy to help community flourish.
A few more (of so many more!) to celebrate: Huria in Berlin, who regularly hosts gatherings over food and powerful conversation. Ursula in Ambleside, bringing people together through fitness and fundraising. Katy in Kendal, creating offline and online spaces for women to resource themselves and each other. Heather in Toronto, who founded and nurtures a global community of sustainability professionals of colour. Mo in Sheffield, doing the same for leaders in social impact and justice. Ian and Dee in Toronto and Costa Rica, founders of the Meaningful Work Collective. My partner Stephen, the engine behind play dates and keeping connections alive across places we’ve lived. A special shout-out to my high school best friend Maggie, now taking her years of community organizing to the next level by running for office in Quincy, Massachusetts.
Patrin Watanatada