Community has never been something I thought of. As a 32-year-old I can look back and know I existed in communities but the language I used was schools, dance classes, volleyball teams, and jobs. When people said community around me I would brush them off or continue listening with tuned-out nodding. If people in my life would encourage me to seek out community I often grew uncomfortable around the idea of having to speak to strangers and begrudgingly participate in icebreakers. A cheesy scene of a utopia of neighbors coming together and sharing homegrown vegetables and speakers hosting mini Ted talks about activism is always what I imagined. It was based on no facts, just the image that came to mind.
Fast forward to the start of 2023, I decided I wanted to make more friends. I wanted to venture out into my new city, Tulsa which I hadn’t yet discovered. I also started to practice engaging online. Not just doom-scrolling on social media places like Reddit, Instagram, and Facebook but actually commenting my outlooks about topics or jumping in with a compliment on a unique outfit. While I got a little more confident I was still longing for some sort of an official group.
In an attempt to find books written by Autistic authors, I started searching words in the Instagram search bar and found @autisticbookclub. While I didn't see any books about Autism on their profile at first, I found re-posts of tweets about the Autistic experience. So, I hit follow and quickly forgot about it. Little did I know this page was for a book club that happened to be on a break.
When they started back up again, I journeyed over to Meetup and signed up for a meeting. The main group consisted of a Zoom chat with 60 people*. The rules that followed were “read the book or not, all are welcome” as well as “you must turn on your camera to make sure everyone feels safe”. Late one Thursday night I got set up with my laptop and nervously clicked join. I saw people stimming, knitting, and many squishmallows. The host had questions curated to the book which initiated many discussions. A handful of people did the majority of the talking but it didn't bother me. It was so nice to see so many faces of people who all shared something with me, Autism.
The following week was the very first BIPOC Autistic Book Club. The founder who started this community found someone to run another group specifically for Black Indigenous People of Color (BIPOC). Currently, they are reading the same books as the original group but that could change in the future. Since this group was new there were only four people including myself versus the previous week. The four of us discussed our opinions of that month’s book including if we finished it, didn’t start, or why we stopped reading when we did. We discussed our backgrounds a little bit. We asked each other for advice and struggled to stop at the hour-ending mark.
Since that meeting, I have attended every BIPOC Autistic Book Club. While the group has stayed small we reach out to each other outside of meetings on multiple platforms sharing silly memes and heartfelt Autistic content.
Was this warm fuzzy feeling the word I had been dreading? Community? Did I finally understand what people had been talking about? The BIPOC group was what I had been looking for. They aren’t officially friends yet and maybe they will never be but being in a 'room' surrounded by people that weren't going to judge me, question me, or doubt me is what I think of when I hear the word community now.
I learned community was what I was missing when starting my friendship journey. Most importantly, I realized community was what I really was looking for. Community is a safe place for me as a Neurodivergent person that struggles to maintain and keep up with individual friends.
If you would to join this amazing group here are some links:
This is a FREE group and the founder will always maintain that.
*The Zoom meeting has now been capped at 40 people soon to be 30.
Comments