Dear friends,
There are moments in life that I wish I could pause, rewind, and watch them unfold again and again until there are worn wrinkles on the tape. One of these moments happened over the summer when my husband, Jon, and I took our kids to see the Mets vs. Phillies game at Citi Field. (Confession: we were there to cheer for the Phillies.)
Our daughter, Abigail, now five years old, only has a vague sense of what New York City was like pre-pandemic. Abigail was two-and-a-half at the start of COVID, when she experienced the world changing around her with little grasp of what we were leaving behind. The streets near our home, once filled with pedestrians, drivers, and bikers gave way to pockets of silence punctured by ambulance sirens. Instead of spending countless hours on our stoop greeting neighbors and passersby, we retreated to our apartment, weaving back and forth between her room, our kitchen table, and our backyard garden.
As our city began to return to a “new normal” last winter, we expanded the size of our cocoon around Abigail. We gleefully reinstituted the weekly stoop time, and Abigail’s world continued to grow: new friendships made in school and at the playground, visits to grandparents over the weekends, small gatherings with our friends and loved ones, and over the summer break, lazy afternoons building sandcastles and searching for sand dollars along the Jersey shore.
But nothing was quite like the tens of thousands of people gathering for a baseball game. So, you can imagine the overwhelming sense of excitement, wonder, and surprise that washed over Abigail, first on the crowded 45-minute subway ride to Queens, and then as she entered Citi Field. On a sweltering August day, she joined the sea of people (mostly donning orange and blue), ping-ponging between walking quickly while squeezing my hand and being carried with her arms clutched tightly around Jon’s neck. In what I can only describe as a sensory overload, her eyes were wide open, mouth agape, and ears ringing. She gently whispered into Jon’s ear, “I’ve never seen this many people, Daddy.”
About halfway into the fourth inning, a few sections away from where we were sitting, a group of friends were trying with all their might to start a wave. After many failed attempts, the wave finally came our way. I coaxed Jon and our kids, “When it comes to us, stand up, raise your hands, and cheer, okay?” Abigail quickly jumped up – and then Elliott incredulously joined in. When it was our turn, they became increasingly more delighted each time the wave came our way. In the final round, they watched with amazement as the wave moved across the stadium.
When we sat down, with Abigail on my lap, I squeezed her tight, took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and relished that moment. I wanted to say to her:
“Oh, my love, I know there is a lot to take in with all these people around us, but this is what we call 'collective joy.' It's the swelling in your chest and butterflies in your stomach. That’s the power of a shared experience.
When the wave travels through the crowd, we become bound together by a shared purpose and affection that transcend our differences. It does not matter the jersey we wear, the team we root for, or what we look like – we know deep down inside we are part of something bigger than ourselves and that we are all in it together. For a moment, we agree to put aside what divides us and rejoice in our common humanity.
My love, wherever you go in life, I want you to seek out the feeling of belonging for yourself and nurture them for others. This is what love looks like in action.”
Moments like this tap into our most basic instinct to belong and be in community with one another. Our communal joy, whether it’s from a sporting event with thousands of strangers or over a shared meal with friends, is exactly what we need to prepare us to go through tough times together.
Abigail was exhausted by the time we got home that evening. As I put her to bed, I thanked her for opening her heart to new experiences and taking part in the small things that make us human.
In keeping with the spirit of communal joy and collective action, I want you to put on your best dancing shoes, sway to the music next to a loved one or a stranger, and stay awhile at Porchfest with our Administrative Lead Christine Bosco. I invite you to go on a new adventure with our Bonding Lead Ira Hillman by practicing the art of letting go in parenting (ah!), and bring about positive change with our Building Lead Jonathan Gruber to address the enormous cost of loneliness on our democracy. Bravo to Jon for this piece being published by USA Today!
I also want to send a hearty welcome to our newest partners, Executive Director Louise Dubé and Senior Director Shawn Healy of CivXNow — a national cross-partisan coalition we’re supporting as part of our Bridging strategy. They are hard at work to strengthen our democracy by making civic education and engagement a national priority. You can go Through the Prism with Louise and Shawn and learn how their relationships with others shaped their commitment to justice, passion for civic education, and hope for future generations.
And in case you missed it, our partners and friends at New Pluralists recently announced a bold initiative at the White House’s United We Stand Summit to galvanize philanthropy to invest $1 billion in communities and organizations over the next ten years to build a culture of respect, belonging, and collaboration in America.
As we hit un-pause on the summer and gear up for a wonderful — and always whirlwind — fall, I hope you will join me in answering A Call to Connection by strengthening our inner awareness. For me, in moments of stress and anticipation, it’s important to take a few minutes to find my inner calm. When we become more attuned to how we are feeling in the present moment, it helps us be more considerate of others. In this exploration, and in the words of Glennon Doyle in her most recent book, Untamed, I hope you will find the “truest, most beautiful life [you] could imagine,” and the courage to “put it all on paper and consider that the blueprint for [your] life.”
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