There's more than just an "I" in community...

When thinking upon the definition of a "concept," one immediately begins to recall pre-conceived notions of their own experience with a concept. Whether it be an idea we wrestle with in our home lives, work environments, or schools, a concept can be defined as a comprehensive or generalization on a given subject. It involves taking facts and what we assume to be true of a certain set of peoples, based on race, class, or gender, and applying them to all the individuals in a group. In a sense, we lose the idea of the individual's needs, and begin to apply them to the overall well-being of the certain group we are focusing on.

In accordance with the writings of Block, the focus of transformation between a large group of peoples and the focus of a community are entirely different. Block writes "...we have already learned that the transformation of large numbers of individuals does not resolve in the transformation of communities (5)." There is no hope for social progress if the focus is continually and habitually focused on the inward, the "I" or self, no matter how great the effort may seem to bring about seemingly diverse peoples into a community of goal-oriented peoples. The sacrifice of self is necessary in order to bring a certain concept to fruition. For a concept can be seen as a blueprint that is guiding the actions of a certain set of peoples. It is actively acknowledging where we have come from, who we are in the moment, and what we can become together.

An interesting point that Block brings up are the ways with which we communication with one another, the actual language and speech we use in dealing with one another. When we talk to others and find like-minded indivisuals, a certain communtiy of bonding begins to form. Block touches on the topic of "bonding" and "bridging" communities briefly in chapter one. A bonding community seeks others in the notion that there are "strength in numbers." If there are many people thinking the same way, then their ideas will be louder as one voice. But this type of community is still concerned with the individual, the active seeking out of people who agree with each other, and no matter how righteous and true their intentions, will be stunted in growth by a lack of diversity and difficulty. When a person feels they "belong" to this type of community, they have purposefully left out others who do not fit in to their social fabric.

A bridging community, however, has quite the opposite effect of a given set of peoples. When we observe a community that bridges disparate peoples and ideals into a community, we get the proverbial "melting pot" of race, class, and gender. It is through experiencing other walks of life, other cultures and unlike minds, that real growth and change can occur. The language with we approach others is the key to unlocking boundaries that cause us to divide and form walls. When a community is actively interested in inclusion, rather exclusion, of various peoples, "encompass different types of people and tend to be outward looking- bridging social capital (Putnam and Felstein)." Social capital being the notion that the greather the diversity of peoples and ideas working together to become closer, the greater the "wealth" of people.

For our outsource article, I chose a selection from 2002's American Geographical Society, a piece titled "Community, Society, and the Individual." Author Yi-Fu Tuan explores the notion of the differences between community and society, the former being warm and inviting, the latter being cold and indifferent, and the roles that individuals play in these worlds. Tuan writes mostly of community and society in the sense of living arrangements, such as neighborhoods or tribes, but also touches on the topics of music and mathematical communities. But through each situation, Tuan believes that "group difference... encourages communication and exchange amongst groups, thanks to the perception that people are different and may have things that are worth acquiring (311)." When a community or group comes in contact with another group of disparate peoples, whatever tendancies there existed to refer to the "I"s in the group disappear, and the groups bind together to become a "we." Whether this happens as a need for a sense of belonging or a need to defend what one considers "theirs" is unknown to me. But it easy to see how quickly individuals can become communities in the wake of a disaster or time of stress. In the weeks following 9/11, New Yorkers reached out for comfort from peoples who shared their heartache and loss that they would never have sought before; the shared knowledge of similar emotions was enough to bridge unlike peoples together. Vigils were held, communities came together with concerts, art, and public displays of acknowledgement of the losses of those aorund us. But when months after 9/11 passed, these once close binds became undone, as people settled back into their own individual perceptions and familiar communities.

Real change can only come from the need to put ourselves and our grief, ideas, what-have-you aside, and focus on the gifts that we bring to the table that make us one, not the differences that separate us. Perhaps all that is needed is time and communication; by keeping in touch with each other and checking in on each others' lives and ideas, we begin to invest more of ourselves in each other. Then the real sense of belonging can begin.