Community (Not the TV Show)

Keeping It Queer
By Erica Chu


Community (Not the TV Show)

The past few months I’ve been in hiding.  Several major projects have been demanding my attention, but locking myself away from the eyes of people I know has also been rather empowering because it’s freed me to consider myself and my possibilities apart from the people I’m usually close to.  It may seem like a sad and cold existence, but there are times in every person’s life when solitude is useful, comforting, and empowering.

It is comforting, and as much as I’ve tried to make use of these months alone, lately I’ve been reminded how important being a part of a community is even if my immersion in it only happens in waves. 

I saw a friend yesterday, a person I love dearly but hadn’t seen in a while.  He was struggling, and I reached out to him.  I’m not silly enough to think I solved any of his problems, but opening ourselves up to each other and sharing hugs between tears  meant something—to him and to me—and it means something still.  We both left somehow changed even if it was all confusing.

It’s hard to figure out exactly what that moment meant, and the general meaning of community is similarly elusive.  All I know is there are hurting people in every social circles we navigate through each day, and it’s a damn shame if we regularly hide from those with whom we could form real bonds. 

I love the term “fellowship.”  It makes me hungry actually because in my growing up years, fellowship meant there would be food.  The truth of the matter is that when there’s food, people tend to let their guards down, let go of their private thoughts, and start acting like family.  Fellowship can even be a kind of meal: we feed each other with our words and our support.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting we all go out into the world trying to feed everyone with our great wisdom and experience.  We may indeed have something to share, but when I sat down with my friend the yesterday, I felt community most intensely when I wasn’t saying a word.  I felt incredibly close to him when my mouth was shut and when my whole heart and body was in tune with what he was saying and feeling.  His pain was heavy, and by sharing it with him for just a moment, I felt its weight.

Community is not just a fun television show, and fellowship is not always a carefree meal.  Both require a willingness to suffer, a commitment to learn, and an acceptance of ambiguity.  I will never know what it means to feel the pain my friend is feeling, and to presume I know would only hurt him more.  Being in community means opening ourselves up to learning what it’s like to be in someone else’s shoes and feeling their pain with them. 

Of course it also means celebrating the good things and trying to find solutions for the bad, but it seems the most ignored aspects of being in community are the moments we let go of our self interests and focus on the joys and pain that someone else is feeling.

We can also extend this discussion to larger groups.  For example, when gay men on the north side of Chicago spend time among themselves, they gain a sense of comfort and empowerment, but if they were to consistently isolate themselves from other groups, they would lose the potential for being in community with lesbians, bisexual men and women, queer and trans people, and the whole spectrum of LGBTQAI identities, ethnicities, abilities, and backgrounds. 

Queer homeless youth in Boystown are harassed by police on a regular basis.  You don’t have to be homeless, trans, or 16 to feel something with these young people or to find and listen to their stories.  You may not know what it all means, but feeling sorry for them only further separates you from them.  Being in community means listening to them, feeling their joys and pain with them, and struggling with what it all means.

Whether you sit over coffee comforting a friend or sit at your computer reading about the experiences of homeless youth, community is a powerful thing.  It’s sometimes heavy, but even though I puzzle over its meaning, I guarantee community is transformational.


Erica Chu is a student at Loyola University Chicago and is seeking a PhD in English with a concentration in Women Studies and Gender Studies.  She manages the blog keepingitqueer.blogspot.com and can be reached at ericachu@msn.com.