Community Center
This morning I was playing Stardew Valley. It was the Fall of my Year 2, and I caught the final two fish I was missing to finish the Community Center bundles. I think this is perhaps the third time I have completed this. I never fail to get teary-eyed though. Seeing the sunny day and the balloons drifting up, Marnie dancing in front of the building and the community rallying together always makes me feel an overwhelming sense of joy. And we all know I get overwhelmed easily. God, I would get so offended growing up when my family called me sensitive. It was true, but I think for me it was offensive because I sensed that I was working hard to be strong. But the definition of strength is perhaps a topic for later.
I wrote about growing up on the island and I mentioned the sense of community that is ingrained in Puerto Rican culture. I grew up on a street where people had lived for decades. They had known me as a toddler (I was always charmed by my neighbor Jaime telling me I called him Hammer as a wee tot) and they embraced me with open arms when I returned to the island at 9 to live permanently. Doña Ita taught me to make domplines (god tier fried dough). Her daughter Sahira had an NES, and she would often let me have a crack at Contra. I sucked at it haha. My other next-door neighbor, Jerry, rented Genesis games from his house, so I would holler his name from across the fence to rent games. He'd come out with a binder of the booklets so I could choose a game. Do you think you know hyperlocal (jk, jk)? My neighbor 3 doors down sold limbers (basically juice, or Kool-Aid, or chocolate milk frozen in a disposable cup) for 30 cents a pop, and another sold candy from her marquesina (garage) one street away! My cousin lived 2 blocks away from me and we were of a similar age so I would often hang out with him. Family members were popping in and out all day. It was odd, because, beyond the occasional mild annoyance, I thrived in the bustle that was my home back then.
I know there's much talk about the modern era and how town squares are more digital nowadays so I don't want to touch on it. There are people better than I to discuss the intricacies of how culture moved from Main Street to Facebook. But I did as an adult gradually isolate myself more from communities. I think it started as a young adult when I left my core group of friends to go to college in FL. In Puerto Rico for the most part it was one big clan. Not always but generally. The US seemed more... niche. It seemed like people self-organized more into groups and seemed to stick to that core group. Anime fans, goth kids, Latin transplants, gamers, etc... I like too many things and am too flaky (I rotate my hobbies frequently) to feel like I fit in in one group. I also have the classic problems many Autistic adults face. My support needs seem to settle in a strange valley between not needing many accommodations to function and the ones I have being easy to write off as a mental health problem as opposed to a symptom of ASD. So without family and best friends to surround me, it just became easier to nestle in bed and lose myself in a book. That seemed less painful than failing spectacularly at another interaction.
Nowadays, I have a few pen pals to ease myself into feeling as if I were part of a community. We write email letters about books, our days, kids, etc. Share photos of things we make or see or do. Some of them ended up being like family! I often chat with them and feel connected to the world. The realm is digital, but now that I think about it, it's no less meaningful. I would say more so because written words are deliberately and carefully chosen. Community is a bit of an abstract concept I guess... but I think that if we try our best to connect, good relationships will bloom.
To build community requires vigilant awareness of the work we must continually do to undermine all the socialization that leads us to behave in ways that perpetuate domination.
– bell hooks (Teaching Community: A Pedagogy of Hope)