What I’ve learned about community as an adult beginner

Courtney Bolinson smiling, a photo she submitted to appear with this piece

By Courtney Bolinson, as told to (and ghostwritten by) Haley Young as part of a series spotlighting participants in a passion-project incubator called Gignite

When my friend Hannah got married, I told her I’d make her a quilt as a wedding gift.

It seemed like the kind of personal present that our friendship deserved. Something handmade with effort and thought.

Nevermind that I had never actually made a full-size quilt before.

It’s in my nature to dive right into things.

I find myself thinking, “I can do that!” even if I have no experience.

It’s often with crafts, like when I made my own adult-sized penguin costume or resolved to take up embroidery after seeing a cool feminist example in a store.

Other times it’s with sports. I joined a basketball league this past winter despite never having played anything but ultimate frisbee in my life.

I like just jumping in.

Maybe my results aren’t as perfect or professional as what you’d see from someone who has more experience  — but I value embracing whatever activity sounds like it would be fun to do next.

Sometimes you start a new hobby or sport, like quilting or ultimate frisbee, and everyone wants to take you under their wing. It’s like they remember learning it and want to share the same thing with you, excited to get someone else involved in the activity they love.

But sometimes, as an adult, you face a lot of resistance to trying new things.

For example, when you come into a basketball league with zero experience, and you’re surrounded by girls who have been involved in the sport for their whole lives. Fitting in is a little more difficult.

This kills me, because I prioritize inclusivity in my own life.

Out of everything I’ve done, my attempts to build community are what I’m most proud of. I want to facilitate meaningful connections so that everyone can feel involved.

One way this plays out is in my focus on a nonviolent communication style.

I try to clearly express needs and reduce blame so that conversations are more positive and productive.

Instead of demanding to know why you didn’t do the dishes and saying how angry I am about it, I’d tell you how the dirty dishes affect me and make a specific request for them to be done differently in the future.

This allows a conversation that could have been confrontational to end up being compassionate instead.

My focus on inclusivity also plays out in my social life as I try to constantly involve people.

For example, last summer I organized several Capture the Flag events in Tenney park with many of my friends who had never met each other.

I like to bring the people in my life together in a space where we can all connect.

Sometimes it’s in public, like those Capture the Flag days. Sometimes it’s in my home, like when I had a social justice-focused Passover seder with a random collection of people.

Regardless of where the physical location is, I try to create a space for meaningful interactions.

And my desire to build community plays out on a smaller scale as I create depth in my individual relationships … Like how I felt strongly that Hannah deserved more than the typical registry gift for an occasion as huge as her wedding.

I met Hannah in Ghana while working in program evaluation for the nonprofit Innovations for Poverty Action. We were there for about two years, and while we worked on different projects, the experience of living in a different country together created a close friendship.

The fabric for her quilt is actually from Ghana. Hannah bought it there before we left, and I wanted to use it to create something she could keep for the rest of her life, capturing the memories from that trip and the significance of our friendship.

Hannah’s wedding was over two years ago. She and her husband have a baby now. They have an established life together.

What they don’t have? The quilt I promised them.

That’s what led me to Gignite .  I knew I needed some structure.

I actually have a backlog of quilts that I’m supposed to make for people, but when I tried to block off time in my schedule to dedicate to quilting on my own I found it was too easy to ignore.

I needed accountability to other humans… and to my wallet.

There are plenty of things I enjoy doing in my own time  — canning, knitting, making homemade food, exercising  — and because I have so many interests, I don’t necessarily always follow through on my own.

But if someone is relying on me, I show up.

So I finally finished the top of Hannah’s quilt, which is a big part of the process.

As Gignite is coming to a close, the end is in sight.

Now I can finish the other quilts I have hanging over my head  — and I can keep diving into more things. Like embroidering!

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