Community Love

As a kid, there was only one way for me to celebrate Valentine’s Day: giving a small cardboard square with a cartoon and a quip on it to friends and family. It may have been difficult for me to choose between the Space Jam and Catwoman-themed Valentine’s card collections, but once I picked a pack to bring home, I delighted in pairing the funny phrases with those in my life.

“We’re a purr-fect match!” To: my bff

“You’re super!” To: mommy

“You’re the cat’s meow!” To: my brother

To me, love meant writing a name on the blank space and sharing a giggle with the recipient. That innocent understanding of love was not a bad start. The process required me to consider those I cared about, identify what best suited them, make space to share it with them, and celebrate the mutual joy it brought. In many ways, that foundation informed how I expressed love throughout my teenage and adult friendships. I found connection with my friends in ways that were personal to them.

As I’ve aged, I’ve discovered new forms of love. Love for my family was first, then, as shared above, learning how to love friends. In my 20s, I learned how to love myself, which paved the way for me to understand how to love my husband. Now in my 30s, my journey has led me to understanding what love for my community means.

This type of love is distinct from the others in that there is rarely one object, it can often feel conceptual, and expressing it looks different for everyone. What I’ve found so far is that for me, loving my community includes considering the needs of those around me. I’ve often heard it said, “It takes a village,” but only recently have I considered what it means to be a villager. Community love is cultivated when I act as a villager, when I step in to support my neighbors. Through my work with Georgia CASA, I am inspired daily by the thousands of Georgians who serve as CASA volunteers. They take volunteerism beyond a project or short-term effort and transform it into a lifestyle. Caring for children and families in crisis is characteristic to being a villager. And this is the type of community love I aim to have.

For so many years, I would spend January 1st writing down my goals and creating my vision board, mapping out exactly how I wanted the year to unfold. But over time, I’ve learned to trust my gut and not rush things. Now, it takes me a few days, or even weeks, to figure out how I want to show up for myself and others. I pull from different experiences, conversations I’ve had, notes from the first book I’m reading that year, excerpts from TV shows, or even commercials that spark insight. 

I’ve realized that I don’t have to hit the ground running immediately on January 1st. It is okay for my new year to “start” when normalcy returns: my child is back at school, my husband is back at work, and I’m home alone with just the hum of my heater and my work emails. It’s in these quiet moments, after the long two-week holiday break, that I get to pause, reflect, and think deeply about how I want to show up. 

So, take your time this year. Know that as we set our hearts and intentions for this new year, we get to imagine, plan, and act with purpose, using each day, each choice, as another chance to get it right. 

As an organization dedicated to supporting children and families in crisis, we recognize that holidays can be a delicate and nuanced time for many. In this series, Purposeful Perspectives, we asked our staff and board members to select a season, month, or day that is meaningful to them to share with our CASA community. Thank you for joining us as we take a deeper look behind the celebrations that fill our lives.