Every time I have a group of blank-th graders visit the farm, I try to talk to them about community, but it's difficult. To understand how important it is. Maybe because so few of us are aware of the communities we rely on, and don't think much about the word itself.
The simple fact about human life is that we need people. Right? Durp. We're social beings, we need friends, family, special someones. We need communities. But that's not enough, unless our friends, families, boy/lady friends are providing us with all our food, shelter, clothing, essentials, transportation, which they don't. Usually, they give us the more abstract stuff, which is part of the fun of living in communal housing on the farm. We (the farm residents) have dance parties, hang out on the porch, cook a lot. People are fun to interact with, make you happy, help you relax, etc. Sometimes, I think this is as far as I go, and beyond that, I don't need anyone else.
Except that I'm actually depending on a far larger group of people, almost all of whom I've never met and never will. Who? Let's see. The people who picked the cotton that made my shirt, or drove the trucks to deliver my food, or built the roof above my head, or work at the phone company that allows me to call my family, or put out fires, or built the roads, or paid for my schooling, or taught me, or decided to contribute to a culture that makes it easy for me to get educated, get a job, and do something with myself. Sum total: a whole hell of a lot of people that I need, just to live a semi-normal, successful life.
This, I think, get's to something about community, i.e., that community is about so much more than a social outlet. We can't survive without other people, because it is hard to live without them. You can't single-handedly grow all of your own food, make all of your own clothes, maintain all of your own property, procure all of your own water, and take care of your own health without a little help. Sure, you can drive to work by yourself, buy groceries by yourself, live a life almost totally by yourself, but communities are hidden behind every step, and they are doing these things for you. Thousands of people who have contributed to maintaining and improving your life and existence, whether you wanted them to or not.
A problem: a lot of those people suffer because of this. Migrant workers picking tomatoes in Florida, getting paid barely existent wages and being exposed to dangerous chemicals. Teenage factory workers in China, making your shirts and living in bunk rooms away from their families and working 14 hour days. Hundreds of thousand of displaced people, living in shanty towns and refugee camps in order to make room for the things your living demands. You can ignore them, but their fingerprints are all over your stuff. And, if you got rid of them, life would become very difficult to maintain. When I think about these communities, I don't get the usual good feeling, and I don't feel so entitled, or care-free.
Is guilt the point? Feeling horrible? I hope not. I didn't personally ask all of these people to suffer for me, and I didn't choose to be born into this system. When I become responsible is when I decide to forget about them once I've discovered their existence. When I send them back behind the curtains, so I can keep feeling comfortable. Which people do, right after they throw up their hands and give up because it's all too big, and too difficult.
So, I try starting with the simple fact: I need people, every step of the way, and relationships are never one-sided, so I need to do my part. This, I think, is not an ideal, or a value. It's a reality, and reality can only be shoved aside for so long. Community, pt. 2.
