Recently I took the opportunity to sit in on a YouNow
session with the very talented and inspirational Travis Bryant. If you don’t recognize his name, you can find
him on Twitter @TravisBryantNYC and you can catch his videos on Youtube by
searching for “Travis Bryant.” Travis is
a youtuber. He’s part of a growing group
of individuals who document parts of their lives and create entertaining and
thought provoking videos for the world at large. If you want to check Travis out, start with this video.
During the course of the live streaming conversation between
Travis and roughly one hundred fans on YouNow, Travis started talking about
trying to encourage a positive and supporting community for all of his fans to
be at home in. This resonated with me. I quickly typed a question into the chat
field. “How much of your desire to
create community comes from the fact that you didn’t really have a place to
belong when you were younger?” Travis
saw the question (which is a bit of a miracle if you think about it because
with one Travis and 100+ fans, you can imagine that the flow of conversation
moves pretty fast). He confirmed what I
suspected: It definitely comes from not having a sense of belonging while
growing up.
Human beings are communal creatures. We crave community. We look for groups of people that meet our
needs and help inform and affirm us as individuals. It’s not just a social need that is being met
when we connect with community; we learn from the community and, through our
participation, the community is made stronger.
Before I go any further I want to pause and define what it
is that I mean by “community.” Often
times I think returning to the origin of words helps us understand the word the
best; that is certainly the case with a word like “community,” which has
somewhat lost some of its power in recent years as it has moved into the
ever-broadening lexicon of “buzzwords.”
The entry at dictionary.com for “community” isn’t the best
but it includes this discussion of the word’s origin:
Latin communitatem"
was merely a noun of quality ... meaning 'fellowship, community of
relations or feelings.”
I don’t like this discussion for two reasons. First, as I’ve gotten older I’ve come to
understand what my third grade teacher used to yell at us about when we did
vocabulary words: You can’t use the word
you’re trying to define in the definition of your word. Dictionary.com is basically telling us that
the word community comes from a Latin word that means community. Thanks, dictionary.com.
The second reason I don’t like this discussion is that it’s
too truncated. I wonder what those
ellipses are replacing.
The one thing that this explanation has going for it is that
it describes what this “fellowship, community” is established around: relations or feelings. This is key.
Remember this.
As I said above, “community” has become a buzzword in many
circles. People are looking for a thing
called community. People are
establishing something called community in new ways and in unexpected places. We are beginning to understand that something
called community is no longer bound geographically or involves a shared
ownership/stake in a tangible thing (“community pool,” “community garden,”
etc.). This revolution in the
consideration of community, what it is/how it looks/where it is found, is a
direct result of the advancement of technology, specifically social media. Remember this, too.
So what is it about this thing called “community” that calls
to us? Why do we crave it? What do we get out of it? And, most importantly, what happens if we don’t
have it?
In 1986 social Psychologists McMillan and Chavis published
a theory in The Journal of Community
Psychology . The theory was called “Sense of Community”
and McMillan defined it like this:
“Sense of community is a feeling
that members have of belonging, a feeling that members matter to one another
and to the group, and a shared faith that members’ needs will be met through
their commitment together.”
Please note that I don’t believe that McMillan’s use of the
word “faith” here should be understood in a religious context.
In 2013, David
Spinks explores the research McMillan and Chavis did and identifies four
factors that contribute to a sense of community. They are:
1.
Membership (including a process of gate keeping,
creating trust and emotional safety, a sense of belonging, personal investment
or having a stake in the community, and a rallying symbol like a jersey, gang
colors, pink ribbon, etc.)
2.
Influence (influence of members over the
community and community over members; members need to know they have a say that
matters and the community means something to its members)
3.
Integration and Fulfillment of Needs (members
feel rewarded/completed/fulfilled by their participation in the community)
4.
Shared Emotional Connection (this includes a
shared/common history and sense of a future trajectory in and for the
community; “This factor is believed to be the ‘definitive element for true
community.”)
I would also like to suggest as part of the shared/common
history of members within the community there is a transmission of values and
ideals. That is to say that the things
that are important within the community, the mentality and traits that are
valued by the community and the behaviors exhorted by the community, are handed
down from generation to generation or sideways from existing members to new
members. Another way to think about this
is that it’s through community that we send and receive elements of our
culture.
But notice how most of these four elements connect in some
way with that idea of a shared relationship or feeling? There is a fellowship (companionship)
centered on emotional elements.
So here’s the question with which we should struggle: What happens if we lack that sense of
community? What happens if we are denied
access to this thing that psychology tells us with greater and greater urgency
is so important to not just our development but our ongoing mental well-being?
I know a number of families who have adopted children across
ethnic lines. On the surface it’s a
beautiful thing but it does come with some struggles. Part of the struggle comes when the identity
question, complicated by the adoption, surfaces. One of the families, who adopted two children
from Korea, experienced significant struggles with one of the children. Part of the problem was the community
question; the family, though quite active, couldn’t seem to find a community
that would meet the child’s needs.
That was an obvious example.
It’s obvious in that there are physical traits that enter into the
equation when considering the community question. It’s difficult to participate in and develop
a connection with a community when you never completely feel accepted by the
community because of physical traits that define you as different. In an overwhelmingly White community with
minimal multi-ethnic understanding or even tolerance, where do you find
community when you are obviously not White?
You’re an outside out of the gate and connection with the community is
going to be complicated.
What if the example isn’t so obvious? What if it’s not a question of appearance or
physical characteristics? What if it’s a
question of an identity that is in development, an identity that is labeled as “deviant”
by the communities a child is socialized in by a family that doesn’t know any
better?
This is what happens with so many LGBTQ people. I almost said “kids” but it’s not just
kids. Adults, too, who struggle with
identity struggle in part because there is no community for them, no way to
gain that sense of belonging, sense of normalcy, sense of “you’re okay, we’re in
this together.” In fact, many LGBTQ
people receive the opposite from the communities they are naturally
matriculated into—political organizations, churches, skill and development
organizations. This isn’t as bad as it
used to be. For example, the Boy Scouts
no longer discriminates against LGBTQ people (at least policy wise) but remember
that just because there is an absence of discrimination doesn’t mean there is
actual acceptance.
And that’s really the problem, isn’t it?
Michael Friedman, PhD, wrote an article entitled “The
Psychological Impact of LGBT Discrimination” in 2014. In this article Dr. Friedman identifies a
number of troubling statistics and phenomenon faced by LGBT people including:
·
As many as 50% of LGBT teens experience a
negative reaction from parents when they come out.
·
30% of LGBT teens experience abuse
·
LGBT children make up 40% of all homeless youth
due in large part to family rejection
·
LGBT adults who report rejection by their
families are six times more likely to experience depression, three times more
likely to use illegal drugs, and eight times more likely to attempt suicide
than their “non-rejected” peers.
·
85% of LGBT children are verbally bullied in
schools during the course of a school year.
·
40% of these report physical bullying
·
19% of these report being physically assaulted
(Remember, too, there is a thing called reporting bias in which people aren’t
always honest and forthcoming when it comes to reporting these things because
they fear the potential for repercussion.)
·
30% of those LGBT students who experience bullying
cite the bullying as a principle reason for missing school because they feel
unsafe.
·
LGBT students who experience bullying are six
times more at risk for depression and suicide than their straight peers.
How do you experience community when you are denied the
experience of family? How can you
experience the element of trust and safety if the people who should love you are the people who abuse
you because of something you can no more change than the color of your
eyes? How can you discover a sense of
belonging when you are perpetually in transition?
And, again, it’s not just kids. Adults experience this as well. 42% of LGBT adults experience workplace
discrimination; according to Dr. Friedman, this is four times the rate of
straight employees. Those who have experienced
workplace discrimination because of their sexual identity have higher levels of
psychological stress and health related problems, less job satisfaction, and
greater absenteeism.
I hope you’re getting the idea. So many experiences in the lives of LGBTQ
people alienate and isolate LGBTQ individuals.
Just because a person might appear active and busy, involved in
different organizations and appears to be socially engaged, it doesn’t
necessarily mean that the individual’s need for community is being met.
Justin Worland (@justinworland), a writer for TIME Magazine,
wrote a piece on March 18, 2015 entitled “Why Loneliness Might Be
the Next Big Public Health Issue.”
Mr. Worland doesn’t speak directly to the LGBTQ issue in his piece but
he does bring up some important points to consider. These points are developed out of a study
published by Brigham Young University, which, coincidentally, isn’t too likely
to consider taking up a study about loneliness in LGBTQ populations. If they were, I think they might find the
opposite of this observation is true in LGBTQ circles:
Many social scientists say
technology and housing trends are increasing the risk of loneliness. More
Americans are living alone than ever before, and technology like texting and
social media has made it easier to avoid forming substantive relationships in
the flesh and blood. Yet research shows that relationships can improve health
in a variety of ways, by helping us manage stress, improving the functioning of
the immune system and giving meaning to people’s lives.
For a long time I’ve been skeptical of technology’s ability
to host and house sustainable community.
It’s fleeting, it’s not tangible, there’s no sense of physicalness and
the security that it can give or the emotional support that can be shared. Emoji are cool but I have yet to see a study
where an emoji can trigger the same emotional/psychological reaction as a hug
can.
And yet I think the one population among whom technology
encourages a sense of connection and community is in LGBTQ circles. Why? Because it can be anonymous; honesty in the
real world comes with a price whereas honesty online can be safe as long as you
protect certain truths. I mean, think
about: You are reading the blog of an
author who won’t use his real identity to publish anything because of the real
life consequences his coming out would cause.
Cyberspace may not be as stable as the real world (but, remember,
stability is a subjective thing particularly when you remember the statistics
Dr. Friedman cites with reference to LGBTQ youth) and emoji aren’t hugs, but in
cyberspace stories can be shared, a common history discovered, and acceptance
can be found. At least in some measure.
This brings me back to Travis Bryant and many other
youtubers out there. I only discovered
Travis about two months ago. I haven’t
met him in person. I haven’t talked with
him outside of the conversation I cited at the beginning of this post. But I *do* see something special in him and
people like him. They are able to share
their stories and create a community around themselves where others can share their stories by participating in the
life of the community. By taking just an
hour of his time on a Sunday afternoon to sit in front of a camera and hang out
with 100+ fans, Travis models behavior and acceptance that too many teens (and
adults) are literally dying for. In the
two months since I first stumbled across Travis’ videos rarely has there been a
week in which I haven’t thanked him for his willingness to share his story and
be a role model for the LGBTQ community.
Not only does this model turn writer normalize an identity that on the
surface may be gaining greater acceptance but he is willing to open up about
his struggles and encourage a positivity that I would bet the majority of those
100+ fans who were in that virtual room on Sunday don’t experience in their day
to day lives.
That is community.
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