‘The more I give, the more I’ve got to give’; deepening community and connection in Leeds
In these turbulent and chaotic times, many of us recognise that there is a great need to bring communities together. So often is this notion uttered that it can feel like a meaningless buzzword, co-opted by politicians or radicals (right- and left-wing!) with only a transitory eagerness to revive community in its truest sense. But ask anyone whether they think community is important, and the resounding answer will undoubtedly be, yes, of course!
The word community has a few varied definitions. I am focussing here on the idea of community as a shared feeling; a way of being and thriving in selfless relationship with others; cultivating a way of life which mutually nourishes and sustains the people and places that we care about. With this understanding of community in mind, I often wonder how the local sedentary population of Leeds views us transitory students. In summer, when the streets of Headingley are quiet, and the sound of 20-something-year-old book-loving Philosophy students pining over Samuel Beckett and Sarah Kane anthologies is vacant from the Oxfam Bookshop, I wonder: how is our impact on the wider city of Leeds understood? Students are often scoffed at, and not without reason. We have a reputation for littering, being pissed all the time, and creating noise in the streets. But we also bring a certain vibrancy to the city, and Leeds wouldn’t be the same without us; we organise inspiring and forward-thinking events, conduct helpful research around the city’s social issues, and bring smooth jazz to the city’s bars. Students are as much a part of the beautiful and varied identity of Leeds as are any other demographic, despite our elusive nature.
The problem with community is that, once it’s lost, it’s very hard to get back. Look at contemporary Britain: once-thriving communities and neighbourhoods seem shattered, and are still feeling the blow from Thatcherite policies today. But, as an essentially organic phenomenon, does anyone really know what it would take to bridge this gap between ourselves and the community that hosts us?
For me, it starts in small places: chiefly by putting myself outside of the university bubble. There are so many great spaces and initiatives in Leeds for people looking to create a deeper relationship with the city. As a Quaker, I find a great sense of belonging at our weekly Sunday meetings, to which everyone seeking guidance, or living with an open heart, is welcome to attend. Here, I have made friends with wonderful people from ten- to eighty-years-old, and have been involved with some amazing projects. Last month, I had the opportunity to visit our local prison, HMP Armley, engaging prisoners in a reflective workshop. There are others at our Meeting variously involved in climate campaigning, organisers of Leeds’ Palestinian Film Festival, local radio producers, published poets, managers of a night shelter for destitute asylum seekers – the list goes on! They are a network of people who put their care into action, and I feel so honoured to spend time amongst them; their wisdom and breadth of experience add such value to my life.
Ultimately, communities are formed in openness and generosity. When we say hello on the street, engage in local initiatives, and act towards each other with honesty and integrity, then community will naturally flourish. A friend of mine teaches English to Arabic-speaking women struggling to integrate into the city, and finds great love and tenderness in these relationships, which help close the gap between her experience and that of others. By giving our time in this way to a person or a place, we selflessly offer a gift of ourselves, and in return, we find a deeper connection, purpose, and meaning in our lives. We find the deepest truth in the old tribal song, which says, The more I give, the more I’ve got to give.
To find out more: talk to people! There are posters on the streets; visit your local library or community centre. There are zine-making workshops (Hyde Park Book Club), volunteer soup kitchens (Rainbow Junktion; Woodhouse Community Centre), queer writers’ groups (Wharf Chambers), allotment volunteer days (Bedford Fields; Meanwood Valley Urban Farm), free-dance workshops (Headingley Methodist Church), open mic events (Left Bank), men’s sharing circles (The ManKind Project), sober music events (LoveJam, Open Source Arts) and so much more.
Leeds is a wonderful city with so much to offer, and it’s about time we took care of it, and felt as much pride in its upkeep as the local community deserves from us.
Community grows
from well-loved ground
and sprouts like an onion
to nourish the world.
Once, there was a planet
of great form and rock,
where Life dwelled within darkness
as pure potential.
The non-material yearned to grow eyes
and witness the passage of time.
And so grew Life
like a worm
breathing soon the air of existence;
knowing God
in sickness and emaciation;
knowing Love
in generosity.
Lotus from mud
Faith from despair
Death from life
In stillness the substance is nurtured;
as I give to others,
so too I receive;
the world is our oyster
to breathe.
