All Real Living Is Meeting.

Insights sometime come at the most unlikely times.  A few make an impression you never forget.  One was the response I received when answering the most basic of questions: “where’s home?”  In responding, "New York City", the questioner looked at me knowingly and commented: “Last small town in America.”

Pleasantly surprised, I laughed and nodded. With few words, I knew he understood the essence of New York.  A momentary bond was established, built on a common understanding and presumably some shared experiences.  One could tell he valued community; particularly the kind only an ‘insider’ would recognize about New York -- in actuality, a big city made up of hundreds of small towns.

"If you know, you know," is a good characterization of the uniqueness of the city. Of course, the kids trick or treat in stores; yes, gym class is often on the school roof; an enterprising dog walker can make six figures in cash; and people get paid to wait in line for others. To New Yorkers, none of this is a surprise. 

Norms and traditions are part of building blocks of culture and community. So too are the unique settings and environments. Andy’s Deli on the corner of 81st and Columbus is a good example. Owned and run by a family of Greek immigrants and featuring a group of employees from across Latin and South America, Spanish-language soccer matches run in a constant loop on the televisions, interrupted occasionally by an American football game.  There’s on-going banter between the customers and employees; some of the latter who are on and off bikes and racing out to make deliveries in Central Park when the weather is nice.  Regardless as to who’s working the counter, they always slip me a napkin full of fresh turkey for our family ‘chucho,' slang for dog in most Spanish-speaking countries.

Two decades of daily interactions at Andy’s Deli have given me a particular sense for community, specifically the potential for warmth and kindness shared among people of varying backgrounds.  This was dramatically apparent during the blackout of 2003, with millions stranded across New York, when the owner of Andy’s insisted that I take whatever provisions I needed – that the cash register was not working – and I could just pay them back another time – truly an interaction one would have in a small town.  

Whether it's impromptu connections with both neighbors and strangers at the corner deli or New York more generally, the notion of community holds a particular fascination for me – what it stands for, how a community is built and reinforced; what drives membership and in what ways communities evolve. The power and importance of these dynamics was most profoundly felt when it all went away during a COVID-inspired lockdown this past spring. The impact of Andy’s closing down for over two months in order to protect their workers from exposure to the pandemic, was a particularly jarring example of community upended. But so too were the closed doors of national chains like Starbucks, Duane Reade and Citibank. They even took the rims off the backboards of the basketball courts to ensure people wouldn't congregate and violate social distancing guidelines. Apart from the all-too-often sirens of ambulances, there was an eerie quiet -- the soul of New York had been ripped out. 

Absent in-person connections, what would humanity represent? Could shared commitments, learning and personal growth foster culture in some other ways? Specifically, what are the possibilities and limitations of our new virtual world? What would be the governing principles and who should be part of it? And is it the worst -- or best -- time to explore the possibilities? 

Many open-ended questions existed while a roadmap did not. We decided to explore the possibilities, but with an important caveat. Our community, we called it SALA, taken from the root of Salon, would place a particular emphasis on representation and range -- accomplished people from across a broad spectrum of orientations and backgrounds -- all with a shared commitment to progressive change and social justice. Not only that, but we also wanted to ensure a 'safe space' where people would confide in others from outside their typical sphere. With over 100 SALA: Digital events since late March, it's been particularly motivating to see the results: friendships, business deals, new understandings and personal -- and communal -- growth. All of this during a time when many are retreating to within their own limited social circles; opinions and decisions reinforced by others who share similar views. Further exacerbated by tech and media platforms accelerating the growth and divisions.

So what's next? Where do we go from here, both as individuals and members of society?  With over 13 million COVID cases in the U.S. and in excess of 265,000 deaths in the States, personal and collective decision making has never been so dramatic.  We navigate life as never before; questioning the safety of individual and group interactions while navigating often inconsistent policy guidelines. Can some level of unity, especially given the rancor defining the last several years, be achieved? ‘All real living is meeting,’ reminds Martin Buber, a famous Jewish philosopher. Hopefully our lived experience over the past nine months has reminded us of the importance of these words. Buber, no doubt, did not envision these meetings to be virtual in nature. Nonetheless, meaningful engagement and relationships can still be realized. And with this, comes shared understanding, new perspectives and empathy -- ideally what we aspire to in a true community.