This took me a while to figure out and I'm still not sure how to put it into words, but it's been on my mind a lot the last few years:

"Community" isn't a label you adopt or a party you show up to. It's what you bring to the table.

If you want to feel connected when you walk into the bar, you have to introduce yourself to people and make conversation. If you want to play, you have to approach and ask for what you want. If you want a certain kind of event, you gotta organize, donate, volunteer.

I think it's easy to imagine "the community" as this Big Powerful Organized Thing that owes us understanding and support. Why did the contest not provide ASL interpretation? Why didn't someone welcome me on my first night at the bar and introduce me to everyone? How could Springfield Leather provide the wrong kind of bootblack stand? This community is trash!

These are all great things. We *should* have terps! It's *nice* when someone takes a newcomer under their wing personally.

What you don't necessarily see is that the only local pup who could volunteer to interpret got COVID, and there wasn't money or time to hire a professional. That the organizers of the bar night can't physically keep track of everyone who walks in, or control entry to a bar open to the public. That the committee had a volunteer who put hundreds of dollars and weeks of time into building a bootblack stand, but due to work and illness it wasn't ready in time; the committee improvised.

Broadly speaking, our classes and events run on shoestring budgets. Almost everyone involved is an unpaid, overworked volunteer desperately trying to keep an ungainly plane in the air. Our boards are tiny and piece together events in their free time through a network of personal favors and the goodwill of sponsors. All of this runs on people just like you.

You gotta show up. Buy raffle tickets. Lend your sparkling wit. Volunteer in whatever capacity you can. Sit on committee. That's community.

This goes for informal social spaces too. I spent so long waiting for someone to swoop in and do the work of socializing for me. Finally realized: it's not enough to be open to the possibility of conversation! I have to approach people. And once we start, I gotta be fun to talk to!

Good parties happen because the people who attend put their energy into the space: through dress, demeanor, conversation, play.

@aphyr big agree with all of this! I'd also add that even in our niche queer communities, we still run the risk of replicating the oppressive power structures of wider society (racism, transphobia, misogyny etc.) unless we take a proactive stance on challenging those things both within ourselves and in our spaces. This is something I'm trying to be more conscious of.

@BootblackTouko @aphyr
Thats exactly the kind of problem that pushed me in my burnout over the recent years.

I tried to be helpful for the kinky SM something "community" but

They turned out to be hetero couples, talking about "balanced gender ratio" and keeping out single man

They turned out to be driven by gut feelings, rejecting me clumsy autistic gay for feeling unsafe

I am burned out from two decades of trying to be helpful and valuable for a communiry

Sorry for Venting