Ring Your Friends
A love letter to community and phone dates.
Twelve days into the new year and we’re already knee deep in tragedy. I feel myself unable to focus on much else, glued to the updates that trickle in about the LA fires— communities have been destroyed, families displaced, neighborhoods rich with history and generational significance left to ruins. It’s upsetting, heartbreaking and overwhelming to see this unfold through our various screens. As soon as we begin to process one tragedy, we see the next unravel right in front of us, forcing us to pivot before we can catch our breath: genocide in Gaza, destruction in Asheville, terror attack in New Orleans.
Time and time again, we’ve seen community show up first, while we wait for our government and elected officials to provoke any real, long-awaited, systemic change. Below are just a few direct resources out of the hundreds available and in-need of donations:
• Directory of Displaced Black Families from LA Fires
• Incarcerated Fire Crews fighting fires
• Malan Fire & Wind Storm resources
• Meal Distribution Sites via World Central Kitchen
• The 400+ animals sheltering at Pasadena Humane
That word community has been floating around on the internet and also in my head the last couple of years, the common question being: “How do I build and sustain one?” I think we all overcomplicate it sometimes, romanticize it even. Community doesn’t always look like extravagant dinner parties, chic book clubs or becoming best friends with your next-door neighbors. At the core, it’s about showing up and caring for others with no personal stake in mind— using your resources, skills, time, financial support, lending a metaphorical and physical shoulder to cry on.
I've lived in three different cities as an adult, creating a valuable, sentimental relationship with each place. Over the years, I stay connected to close friends and old coworkers in DMs, swapping silly inside jokes or things that remind us of each other. I share and comment on my fellow-internet friend’s creative work to show support despite ever meeting in real life, hoping one day we can chat over a cup of coffee. I exchange messages with extended family, an interesting reminder how much I’ve grown since they last saw me at 10 years old.
These connections can be fruitful in so many ways but other times they can feel like they’re fleeting or impulsive sentiments. Tap, tap, tapping through story posts, scrolling into the algorithm’s void, half-absorbing each photo or paragraph in front of us while drawing our own conclusions with little context. I think of that meme ‘story replies hate to see me coming after two glasses of wine’, sometimes reaching out on a whim. With TikTok’s ban on the horizon, the discourse grows wider, will connection evolve into something new or will we migrate to the next up and coming app?
Phone dates are the one form of connection that have sustained me, from New York to Maine to Georgia— scheduling a time to catch up with the people I love that I don’t live near anymore. Or maybe, we do live near each other but we haven’t seen each other in two weeks. Everyone is busy and it’s not always personal, so how about we catch up for two hours while I fold my laundry and you take a walk? Giggling about who-knows-what and swapping stories like no time has passed.
With each passing day, moment to moment, I’m reminded that the value community holds is immeasurable and it must be nurtured. Over the weekend, Winter weather hit the southeast for the first time in years and closed down a majority of metro-Atlanta for two days. It’s been jarring to look out my bay window to a blanket of snow and ice, but heartwarming to see how the city collectively relished in this rarity. Folks gathered together in Piedmont Park to share their first snow-ball fights, build snowmen and sled on aluminum baking sheets, a testament to joyful innocence and community at its finest.
I’m sending love and light to all of those impacted by these recent tragedies, my heavy heart is with you, please stay safe and take care of yourself.
Until next time,
xo, Paige