Community As A Verb
Perhaps community is the buzzword for 2026, but who is fostering community as a verb rather than a noun? How do we get back to the community ideology that raised us?
Viewing community as a verb, collectively, is the lost recipe when we talk about community from a cultural lens. We are a people of service by nature, and we meet people with care and compassion. And sometimes, we don’t.
It’s been a while since I’ve written from a vulnerable space when it comes to my relationship with Blackstack. I’m sure my silence has been noticeable by the inconsistency in publishing. My silence has been to center myself from the heartache of cultivating community.
Dedicating to community work comes with heartache that I’ve learned is part of my own personal healing experience. When love is the baseline for community, and both words are action-led words, I’m shocked in moments when the initial response is the option of the ingredients of love. Among this silence, I’ve learned some valuable lessons that have ultimately changed my life. Clarity can give us direction, as bell hooks names it, a map to follow on this journey we travel.
I’ve shared this thought many times before, but never took the time to write it out in the way in which it lives rent-free in my mind. Picking back up all about love, I’m reminded that there is no getting away from my passion for fostering community. That invisible labor of love to curate a space for Black writers and readers to come together with the intention to preserve our stories.
Community is a verb, and the secret that is not talked about enough on the topic is how we must all equally view community as a verb. Just as we do with love. The two go hand in hand when you gain that clear understanding.
Blackstack is so much more than just a Substack publication for me, and sometimes I’ll admit I get a little ambitious for just one person to handle.
I go through the highs and lows of expanding the community in ways that stretch me thin in the end. Organizing and executing consistently at the capacity in which I have for the past two years, while still experiencing the hardest two years of my life, has cost me a lot. And if I can be completely honest, this year has challenged me to face how much I’m willing to fight for what I believe in. Here I am, still in the ring.
I’ve struggled to accept and admit that I’ve stretched myself thin, and I am giving myself grace as I pick myself back up from the fatigue and follow through because this mission is bigger than me. The comeback is a slow walk. As much as I hate to do things slowly, I’ve learned about myself in this silence.
bell hooks described love as a mixture of ingredients: care, affection, recognition, respect, commitment, and trust, with honest and open communication. She, too, describes love as an action, and the curation and consistency that I’ve put into this collective is my love letter to the Blackstack community. To maintain the level of love I have the capacity for right now in this season of my life, I am redefining the flow to honor my commitment to all projects.
Although it’s not a new concept or prolific idea, it’s something that came to me through lived experience that has stayed with me over time. Preparing the monthly workshop for the $1 Writing Club, I discovered little discussion on the topic of how it relates to community workers. Through the pages of all about love, I’m inspired and renewed in the passion I have for this work.
It’s showing up, but not to show face, to arrive early to help set up, and stay a while to make sure everything is balanced again. Community is open and honest conversations with care, grace, and compassion. I believe that community should be a soft spot in all of our hearts, eager to become the aunties and uncles we loved to be around growing up.
The missing ingredient when it comes to community is reciprocity. As a collective, this is something we demand but rarely actually give. We don’t fully know how to receive love and give love; therefore, we do not know how to practice the art of reciprocity.
We hold expectations of each other to be perfect; we don’t put ourselves in each other’s shoes to understand with care. Society has conditioned us to place judgment on anyone who does not live up to our expectations and demands. We leave without repair, unfollow without understanding, blame without reflection in the name of protecting our peace. But that is not conducive to the goal of maintaining community.
And what I love the most about community is that we get to practice forgiveness, which is also a verb. What we put in is what we get in return, and when things don’t go to plan, how forgiving are you in the pivot?
This is not an invitation to lower your standards, by any means, but a request to give community the same effort and grace that we give to connections we gave one too many chances to. We are going to be here for you before, through it, and after whatever decision you choose to make next.
I love y’all, for real.
Writing Prompts and Submissions
I’m certain I’ll be writing on this topic across platforms all summer if you are interested in joining the discussion. I want to share the presentation with the collective as a gift for your grace in my need for silence to repair.
If you feel called to write something exclusively for the series, I’d love to curate your work. In the comments, let me know if you’d like the submission link.
Community is something thats easy to say but hard to describe and honestly, even harder to make, to be of. I think, honestly, our Western way of life influences our thoughts on community and often influences many into seeing it as transactional as our markets. But at the same time, communities of old were largely held up by silent labor, and we have to learn how to honor all who work it. Believe me, I've had PLENTY of thoughts about community as well! Great work as always.
FELT. Thank you for writing this, for the work you do to cultivate community and for the encouragement in knowing that I’m not alone in my fatigue.