Making a Difference on Our Front Step

When the world feels impossibly big...

Dear friends,

Maybe it's that big-ass Beaver Moon that's been making me feel all thin-skinned and sensitive this week, or maybe it's the magnitude and velocity of crises hitting us day after day. Perhaps it's the sheer insanity of everything from a (proposed) new Canadian federal budget that will pay for fossil fuel and military expansion by cutting jobs and services, to literally anything coming out of the White House. Whatever it is, I've been feeling rather overwhelmed by the state of the world this week (despite the positive election results on Tuesday), and feeling the need to dial my focus back into my own community.

The big picture makes no sense.

It's fairly evident that governments, for the most part, aren't properly caring for either their people or the planet. That's not to say that all governments are the same, of course. I think the US would look like a vastly different country if more US voters had picked the black woman over the orange menace. But, even had it been a Harris presidency, just as here in Canada with Carney in charge, the wealth divide is growing and our governments refuse to sufficiently tax the rich to cover the costs of making sure everyone is okay. Even our progressive city council here in Victoria can't seem to address the root causes of homelessness and addiction, and so we spend over $10 million a year to pay law enforcement to repeatedly re-traumatize the unhoused members of our community with regular 'sweeps'. How on earth does any of this make any sense?

Yeah, we have schools, roads, libraries, first responders, etc (for which I am extremely grateful), but every time you blink, the services our taxes should be covering are on the chopping block. While the rich get richer, governments are, at best, trying to make ends meet while kowtowing to those who hoard the wealth, or worse, they are actively enabling this imbalance. All this to say that when governments are not reliable partners in our wellbeing and survival we turn to our communities.

What if we just took care of each other?

I have a deep-seated belief that, really, we all just want everyone to be okay. Far too many people don't know what to do with their frustrations with the injustices around us and so they lash out at the victims (not cool). Most people, I believe, want to help others, but often don't know how they can be of service. A few people are just dicks and they don't count.

I have been absolutely blown away watching my community, and communities everywhere, show up for each other lately. While the US government literally insists on trying to starve millions of Americans (also - can we just have a conversation about why 42 million Americans can't afford to feed their families while grocery chains and major corporate employers are making record profits?), many more Americans are working together to make sure everyone is fed. While the US government is hellbent on violently making America White Again, Americans are coming together to protect their immigrant neighbours from being kidnapped. While the US government attempts to morph into a monarchy, millions of folk from the ginormous NO KINGS community are standing together to save democracy.

Beyond the vastness of the United States, on my own front step, I have seen numerous instances of my own local community pulling together to care for each other, and it just makes me want to weep with joy. For instance, last month I saw a post from local outreach group Peer2Peer Indigenous Society asking for snack donations. I shared the request on FB and asked my community if some of them might donate $5.00 so I could buy snacks for outreach to distribute. Oh my! I was inundated with donations of all denominations with which I have been able to purchase hundreds of snacks, bottles of water, and socks. People care and want to help. All I did was create an opportunity for them to participate in caring for our unhoused neighbours. The donations continue to roll in and I will continue buying socks & snacks with them. Our governments have let far too many people end up destitute and struggling, but our community is showing up to help as best we can with what we've got.

The circular nature of community care.

Dialling my focus in even tighter now to how my music community recently stepped up in helping to literally raise the roof for the kind and generous couple who have hosted weekly jam sessions and innumerable music parties over the years. A few weeks ago a GoFundMe was set up on their behalf, giving our music community a chance to return a bit of the generosity they've shown us over the years. Within just over a week, the money goal was met and the roof is being replaced as I type.

We are seeing more and more instances like this as needs grow, financial stability evaporates, and more of us realize that we need to just take care of each other. Being a bit 'old school' and not really clear on how mutual aid works (as someone who has been living in capitalism for 60+ years, I, too, am still trying to get my head around it), this couple love to give, but aren't so comfortable with receiving. However, their roof-replacement GoFundMe has allowed their community to reciprocate some of their generosity to others, and we've all come out winning. When we have enough, we share with those who who don't.

Community care comes from unexpected, entangled sources.

When I retired a few years ago, I knew I didn't want to spend all my free time staring at the screen, so I revived my more wholesome childhood hobby of crocheting simple Granny Square blankets. While listening to audiobooks borrowed from my local library (yay socialism!), I have crocheted dozens of blankets made from rescued yarn. Of course, I certainly don't need dozens of blankets, but do you know who does? The women and their children escaping abusive partners, who seek refuge at Victoria Women's Transition House, usually with nothing but the clothes they're wearing, could definitely use a cozy Granny Square blanket, and so, I have been crocheting blankets for them the past few years. I get to indulge in my meditative hobby while supporting other women in my community. Feels like an easy win to me.

Anyone who enjoys fibre arts knows that buying new yarn is damned pricey, so I, once again, reached out to my community to ask who has spare yarn sitting around, and, wow! has my community ever come through (again!). My friends now actively search out unwanted yarn for my blanket project. So many unfinished knitting projects have been transformed into handmade blankets for women and children who really need to feel the love of their community.

I recently saw a post from a local high school teacher who was also on the scrounge for yarn for a group of students who are knitting toques for unhoused neighbours. Fortunately, there's plenty of yarn out there for all of us who are wanting to fashion it into loving gifts. I love thinking about all the steps involved in this bit of community care, starting with reaching out to strangers for their unused yarn, saving it from landfill and twisting and turning it into cozy items of kindness and care for other strangers. I love that high school students are participating in this care for their community. Once again, we've all come out winning.

In person and online, communities come in all shapes and sizes.

I recently read Encampment (and I think you should too) in which the author, Reverend Maggie Helwig of St. Stephen-in-the-Field Anglican church in Toronto, beautifully conveys the evolution of a homeless encampment that sprouted up on the grounds of her parish a few years ago, and the chaos and trials the residents faced in a world that actively works against them. Ironically, the day the book won The Toronto Book Award the city ordered the camp cleared. Tents - places that felt like home to a dozen or so people - were replaced with massive cement blocks and blue fencing. When I was visiting Toronto last week, I walked past St. Stephen-in-the-Field and was deeply moved by this sidewalk chalk reminding all who passed by that, "A COMMUNITY WAS HERE". I don't think enough of us truly understand that communities come in all shapes and sizes, online, in person, on the streets, or are able to identify them when we see them. Certainly not city staff or law enforcement!

What do your communities look like? How do you engage with them? I imagine, like myself, you belong to any number of different communities, and you are in the middle of the Venn Diagram that connects them all. I consider myself a member of the community of the City of Victoria (the unceded territories of the Lekwungen speaking people). I am also a member of my little music community that can raise a roof while cranking out fiddle tunes. I am an active member of various activist communities, in person as well as online. Frankly, I love my Facebook community and simply can't wait until the FB platform is publicly owned (a girl can hope). A favourite quote from my maternal grandfather was, "Come the revolution, we'll all be eating strawberries and cream!" Maybe we can all eat strawberries and cream while feeling good about our use of Facebook to engage with community. Facebook can be a great resource. Pity about the billionaire who controls it.

Small actions can have a big effect.

The big-ass moon, the big, big world, the daily chaos have all definitely had me reeling this week, but I've managed to keep my balance by focussing on what is close to home and how I can be of service in small ways. The big stories do need our attentions and our actions, but so do the little stories, and sometimes they are easier to address. We re seeing in real time the huge wins that come when communities come together to care for each other. From organized anti-ICE groups to fund raising for friends, to using Facebook for good causes, to mutual aid acts for our friends and neighbours, to millions of Americans making sure everyone in their local community can feed their families, all these smaller wins add up to making our world a better place. I am eternally grateful for my communities who remind me that, even when the wider world feels unbearable, we still have each other and we hold each other up.

Stay strong, stay connected,

Jessica