Eventually, this newsletter will consist of more form and function, but as I get this project off the ground, my first five posts will highlight my first five days in South Bend from my own perspective.
This is day five of five.
This one is about creating something new and the anxiety, uncertainty, self-doubt and loneliness that comes with it.
This is about doing something that I haven’t done before which requires skills I don’t really have while working with people that I’ve never met to create a project with an undefined outcome. This is about what happened after I engaged that first external stakeholder and this idea passed the point of no return to become a project. This is about accountability to myself and to others.
why [here] started to come together nearly two months ago. It was sparked by a simple question that coupled with a few societal insights and some intuition to blossom into this multimedia storytelling concept. It slowly started to fill my idle mind in all of my idle time until I found myself talking about it with anyone who would listen to the countless layers of inspiration and intention. I naturally got into the practice of incorporating every bit feedback I could on the path to conceiving it. Eventually the curiosity and excitement became so much that I committed to planning and following through on pursuing it.
Then I arrived in South Bend and had to present my concept to a room of complete strangers (and potential participants) for the first time. 😳
I did it and they seemed to understand the concept. They seemed to be interested enough to ask clarifying questions and reflect on what I was proposing. They didn’t hate it. In hindsight, I realized that was the moment when the harness engaged and the roller coaster lurched forward; there was no turning back. I’ve spent every day since on that ride.
I’ve been experiencing all kinds of extremes. Some mornings I wake up at the first sound of my alarm ready to take on the world, others I struggle to drag myself out of bed and face it. At some point every day, I peak upon having an encouraging conversation, new experience or promising introduction. At some point every day, I bottom out and feel like an asshole for thinking for one second that my idea was original. I feel even worse for presuming that I could swoop in for a month and come close to developing a viable perspective of someone else’s community. It’s even made me nauseous a couple times.
I’ve settled on the sentiment that I’m of everywhere and nowhere after spending the last two years travelling. I haven’t been a member of a place-based community since then and it’s starting to leave me a bit raw and exposed. I was fully aware of that going into this project, but nothing can really prepare you for that feeling of being alone in a crowded room. I was naive to think that the transactional nature of constantly cultivating connections and interviewing every person I meet wouldn’t hinder me from finding depth in relationships. I default to the kind of behavior - Netflix binges, incessant social media engagement, dating apps, time spent at the gym - that has preserved me in the past, but further isolates me at the end of the day.
But the ride goes on and it's better than nothing. Nothing is reinforcing shit - us vs. them, red vs. blue, cities vs rural America - that is proven not to work. Nothing is complacency, idleness and complaining about it on Facebook. Then I wake up one morning to someone I hardly know making a public spectacle of me on their Facebook page for how I engaged with them. I spend the rest of the day defending myself and reflecting on whether or not I’m a trash human. Not even to play the victim, but to just be honest with myself about whether or not what I’m trying to do is more problematic than beneficial; if I’m more problematic than beneficial.
My first interview happened on Day #5. (Yay!) He was another white Millennial cisguy with a college degree and good intentions. We share office space, so it was convenient. He’s an engaging communicator and his real estate startup could really benefit a lot of South Bend community members. I was grateful to hear his story.
But that's a serious risk of this project. If I fail to include minority groups that exist in the communities where I'm living, I'm just reinforcing existing power structures by elevating prevailing narratives while muting others. This project is a failure if I can’t find ways to include and honor the representative perspectives of everyone in the community. I can easily perpetuate everything I’m trying to address if I don’t do this right.
“Who is this for?” is the question I keep asking myself.
I guess there are two ways to think about that…
At the end of the he day, the only person that cares about this project is me. There are supporters, there are participants, there are observers, but they’ll only care about this as far as I take it. So, in one way this is just for me.
But then I get an email or Facebook message; someone actually read my newsletter and enjoyed it. Then someone in my network offers me professional support. Then I have a conversation with a local leader and she introduces me to seven more people without hesitation. Then I finish an interview and see a sincere look of appreciation, having been seen and heard, on the face across the table from me. Then I start to think my project is actually creating some value. I realize that this can be for everyone, but most importantly it’s for the communities that open themselves up to me.
I come to the conclusion that if I build something that benefits the communities who have hosted me and something that I can call my own then it will be beneficial to others. It can serve as a beacon to other people making their communities better without much notoriety and can offer some humbling insights to friends who would never visit these places on their own. On multiple levels, this project is about our shared humanity and trying to honor that. So I guess that’s what I’ll try to do.