Learning from Failure

The Penn Wynne library event started at 10:00 am. At 9:50, I was still walking the dogs. And then I bumped into the new neighbors; which led to a very pleasant chat. But I'd made a vague commitment to join library staff at their table, intending to survey passers by about their interests and promote our group—Breaking Bread with Neighbors; we needed more folks to join if we were to keep it going. But now I was late.

Penn Wynne Day at the library

Still, wasn't chatting with new neighbors exactly the kind of community building I was trying to pull off? At about 10:20, when I finally arrived, the grounds surrounding the library were bustling. Folks meandered around vendor tables in an adjacent parking lot, and many more gathered around to hear officials thanking everyone responsible for bringing the library story garden to life.

On that inaugural Penn Wynne Day, the new garden sparkled under a bright October sun, and a colorful mural painted by a team of volunteers graced the walls of a neighbor's garage—which provided a perfect backdrop to the garden. Although the remnants of a hurricane, traveling north were due to hit the following day, on that Saturday, our community celebrated under blue skies.

It seemed like the entire neighborhood was on hand including kids and grandparents. We bought crafts and food from area vendors. We gave financial support to local kids involved in good causes. I got a henna tattoo of two dog paw prints, one for each of my mutts, on the inside of my wrist.

And that's when it struck me—maybe the members of our local community did not need another group. Why was I trying to roll the stone up the hill and grow Breaking Bread when other groups were already established?  When I saw the level of civic engagement all around, I realized I was duplicating something that already exists. Maybe I just needed to get on board.

So, my effort to start a new community gathering was a fail. I launched it based on general information about the problems of polarization and isolation in our country right now; I did not adequately appraise the local situation.  

The result had been that even though a few people attended our meetings, some traveling quite a distance, I could never consolidate the group around a shared vision. Penn Wynne Day at the library showed me where I'd gone wrong.

So, when one of the speakers said they needed new members for the library board, I threw my name in. I haven't been approved yet, but I'm feeling optimistic. It's actually quite a relief to imagine that I can do something to support the community without having to build it alone. Yay!

I'm sure there's a lesson in this somewhere. It reminds me of doing education research back in grad school and how we began with a literature review to see what had come before. I guess I failed to do the lit review—it's been a minute since grad school, so maybe I was due for a reminder.

In any case, I've filled out my application, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed. In the meantime, I'm doing some election calling, which feels necessary before the midterms. Taking some kind of action gives me hope that we can make things better.

What things are you doing that give you hope?