How We Show Up: Reclaiming Family, Friendship, and Community

by Mia Birdsong

The Founding Fathers wrote powerfully about freedom and self-governance while inhabiting stolen land, enslaving people, and excluding most of the population from participating in that self-governance.

The American Dream remains defined by whiteness and masculinity, no matter who occupies the role; our most rewarded and celebrated leaders, even if they are not straight white men, exemplify these standards.

But what does it really mean to be in deep, close community? What form does it take? Who is included and why? How much of my life do I have to let go of to make room for the kinds of relationships I want? How far and deep must the reach of my heart extend? Can I hold in the light of generosity those who would wish me harm? And what cost is not too much to do so?

We need a vision of community that is relevant and future-facing. A vision that brings us closer to one another, allows us to be vulnerable and imperfect, to grieve and stumble, to be held accountable and loved deeply. We need models of success and leadership that fundamentally value love, care, and generosity of resources and spirit.

Amoretta Morris, a wise woman I know who is rethinking philanthropy, wrote, “It’s okay to ask for help. In fact, by doing so, you are taking part in the divine circle of giving and receiving. While we often focus on what the request means for the asker/recipient, we should remember that giving can be transformative for the helper.… By not asking for help when you need it, you are blocking that flow.”10

Accountability is also about recognizing and accepting that we are necessary and wanted. It’s understanding that when we neglect ourselves, don’t care for ourselves, or are not working to live as our best selves, we are devaluing the time, energy, and care that our loved ones offer us.

We can decide that our own experience of contentment, pleasure, and liberation is ultimately more important than being pissed about the fact that we shouldn’t have to deal with it in the first place.

We are committed to caring for one another. We worry about one another. We celebrate one another.

Shawna Sodersten, a marriage and family therapist,8 says this: “Everybody’s first job is to steward their own life experience. And that means discovering who you are, and all the things that bring you pleasure and joy, and feel aligned with you, and give you a sense of purpose.”

In his book Social: Why Our Brains Are Wired to Connect, he writes, “Our sociality is woven into a series of bets that evolution has laid down again and again throughout mammalian history. These bets come in the form of adaptations that are selected because they promote survival and reproduction.”10 Lieberman challenges our fundamental understanding of human needs, putting social connection that supports interdependence before even food, water, and shelter.11

i want a world where when people ask if we are seeing anyone we can list the names of all our best friends and no one will bat an eyelid. i want monuments and holidays and certificates and ceremonies to commemorate friendship.1 —ALOK VAID-MENON

I’m trying to step outside the narrow list of possibilities that we’ve been given. Part of this means squashing the relationships hierarchy that says a monogamous romantic/sexual relationship is infinitely more important than the other relationships in our lives. For me, that doesn’t mean diminishing my marriage, but elevating other relationships.

“It took being at Harpy House, where it was stable and calm and there are supportive people around me, for me to realize that the people I consider family are not the people who I see all the time and have lots of fun times with,” Jade told me. “It’s the people who check in on me when they haven’t heard from me for a few days, or remember what’s going on with me—‘Oh, I know you had that stressful thing,’ or ‘I brought you tacos unexpectedly,’ or ‘Oh, I heard you weren’t feeling well physically, so I’m gonna come and help you do your laundry.’”

Jade

What would it look like if we had more models for articulating our commitment to our friendships? Not just that we are committed, but what that commitment looks like, what they can expect from us and us from them. What spaces for safety and intimacy and care would that open up for us? Would we have more support when we were sick or grieving, or facing hardships like losing a job or a home? Would we have more room in our lives to take risks and follow dreams if we were making those decisions inside committed friendships?

And there is a deep joy and rightness with the world that I get from sitting in the presence of my closest girlfriends, loving one another, laughing, eating, drinking, and being unapologetically ourselves, something that no man will ever give me.