Showing Up
Cold take: community solves everything
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As a natural introvert, it usually takes a pretty specific invitation to get me out on a Friday night any time around rush hour, where traffic and dusk convince you that putting on a bra and changing into real clothes is vaguely unreasonable. But I was genuinely excited last night...
It was an evening featuring 2x New York Times bestselling author Anna Malaika Tubbs and the Young Women’s Freedom Center. The invite came through my friend Stacie after we’d heard Anna speak on a panel at another gathering hosted by Jorgi Paul and Lady of Record at the Women’s Twentieth Century Club of Eagle Rock. Walking into Thirteen Lune on Larchmont was fun all its own - a dreamy space that is somehow not trying too hard. So many candles and fragrances to pick up and take a whiff, enticing collections of cosmetics in expansive shades, all curated toward a more inclusive and global beauty world. There was organic wine, overflowing cheese and charcuterie boards, and warm welcomes while still celebrating aspiration and ambition. A pretty tricky balance to strike imho.
Maybe it was the word-of-mouth promotion of the event, or perhaps some sort of natural alchemy, but the room felt connected in a way that is far from quotidian. No one spoke of “networking” for networking’s sake, nor did anyone seem especially interested in performative expertise or strategically making the rounds. People were there because they genuinely cared about the books, the topic, carrying a shared enthusiasm and openness that made conversations happen naturally. Ages ranged, backgrounds varied, contacts were exchanged, “looking forward to it” echoed all around.
Before, during, and after, so many conversations tied back to the same thing: showing up. Showing up for causes, for neighborhoods, for events, for friends, for one another. At one point, I joked - but also fully meant it - that I believe community is the solution to everything. The line was met with immediate nodding and laughter and somehow became an inside joke of the evening, resurfacing in side conversations as the broadest application of my comment felt more ubiquitous.
Of course community matters in the obvious moments: catastrophe, illness, grief, hardship. But I find community unexpectedly shapes the hidden structures of daily life: a potluck with the corn salad you can’t stop thinking about, a plumber recommendation for when the one your landlord sent blew up your bathroom, a quick dog walk when someone gets stuck at work, even (as was actively happening in my neighborhood WhatsApp group while we sat at the event) someone urgently asking if anybody nearby had a shovel they could borrow. Day after day, I find reassurance in existing inside a web of mutual reliance instead of complete self-sufficiency.
It’s part of what made the conversation itself feel so resonant. Anna Malaika Tubbs has a beautifully accessible tone rooted in serious academic research that consistently brings shared history, responsibility, and solutions to the forefront. Her work (check out The Three Mothers and Erased!) examines the lasting effects of patriarchy and the ways history continues shaping whose labor, care, and humanity are recognized and protected. But the ideas never feel trapped inside theory, rather they are expertly connected to real lives and real systems and real relationships. The Young Women’s Freedom Center similarly embodies the strength of community-centered framework, focusing on solutions built with and through the women they serve rather than imposed onto them from a distance (physical or experiential).
After we said our goodbyes, Stacie, Jorgi, and I strolled down the street for a late dinner with signed books tucked under our arms. Over drinks and pasta, we started talking about our respective ventures: writing and consulting for me, the new salon for Stacie, Jorgi’s growing real estate business and women’s empowerment initiatives. We chatted ideas and fears, logistics, ambitions, the abstract emotional math involved in building something yourself. I admitted that there’s really only one thing I miss from corporate life: the feeling of an offsite.
