Skip to main content

Embodied Communities- Introverts and American Individualism


I am an introvert.

While I'm not surprised by it, I've only recently been able to find the value in it. Thankfully, academia is a collection of introverts. My colleague and friend, Joy Allen, who is a rare extrovert in our department, once remarked that the extroverts needed to plan the excruciating periods of networking at conferences to balance out the nominal amounts of social time they would get normally. You would imagine then, that postgraduate work would be windfall. 

Postgraduate work is inherently lonely. The premise that you, alone, are adding a unique contribution to research often means that you are alone. It's the combination of long hours in your own head, driven by your own sense of urgency and pressure to add a small, and often rather insignificant, 100k works to the collective knowledge of the world. 

It can be hell, and I'm never surprised at the number of studies published about the correlation between postgraduate work and mental illness, particularly depression and anxiety. The way the academy is designed is to drive us out of community. Worse, we are the ones behind the wheel driving ourselves into seclusion. 

It is within this context I've had an epiphany- I am in every regard an introvert, yet I am also created to be part of a community.

This is the first point in my life when I've realized how hard it is to find an embodied community. We are often like a fleet of ships, loosely connected in a forward move, but not anchored to one another. University was a time when we lived together. We were all trying out new personas and activities- often with the hope and success of finding a few other weirdos to be friends with. The same could be said of the years preceding university. We all play adults and find one another. I'm grateful for the people I found during that time and continue to be in community with, even now. In seminary, we were guided to finding community. While my covenant group epically failed at materializing, I could find those on the fringe and band together. We all shared the same basic curriculum, working to the same goal, idealistic about leaving the seminary walls and carrying the hope and love of God into the world.

But that's not postgraduate work, and I've recently realized how dis-embodied my community here feels at times. Which is not to say that I don't have friends here. Rather, that many of my friendships feel rather superficial at times. There's only a handful of people who would notice my absence, and honestly that could probably be said of me as well. We make excuses for our absences because of work, but I think the more realistic problem is that we've been set up to resist being community with one another because in a limited world of academic or pastoral postings, we all know that those most close to our research are also our competitors. It's easier to be close to those working on projects radically different from ours, but it just complicates our loneliness because we are still, then, alone in our heads with our ideas.

Truett made me appreciate that the academy is important for the church.
Aberdeen has made me appreciate how needed the church is for the academy.

If we are called by God, then we are called into community- and into embodied and vulnerable communities at that. It's my sneaking suspicion that Americans have messed this up profoundly. I've watched the election coverage and (along with many other things to be horrified at) I find myself baffled that evangelic Christians in particular are so polarized. Surely, the opposite should be true. We should be questioning those loud voices that pierce our communities.

What happened to quiet voices that draw us together? 

My culture has shaped me to believe that my political beliefs define who I am and who I should be community with. And, to be honest, my introvert default is to believe that. Forming community is hard enough for me, without the added benefit of having disagreements about things that seem so important.But my experience in genuine, embodied communities has taught me differently. There can be fellowship with those across the aisle who are in the same pew. 

I find it so easy to dismiss people who believe radically differently than me online, and frustratingly easy to form those bonds of community in person. 

I am an introvert created for community. I am a solitary person who enjoys physically being around people in quiet. I am a liberal who is friends with conservatives. I am an American who rejects the belief that individualism is the hallmark of freedom and that voices breaking down community are ushering in the American dream. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Claire tries cooking! Pineapple Chicken Quesadilla and Figgy Balsamic

We are the typical American family when it comes to food habits. In that, we eat a rotation of approximately the same 5 meals: - Chicken Tacos - BBQ Chicken - Sauteed Salmon - Spaghetti - "Meatloaf" Pies Every once in a blue moon, I'll add something "fun" to the mix: - Stir Fry - Pretzel Chicken - More different fish - Roast Chicken Fun meals ceased to exist once baby boy showed up, but now that he's able to sit in a high chair AND has a bit of a schedule during the day, cooking is incrementally becoming an easier task. Last night I found a slow cooker magazine (yay Better Homes and Gardens!) and realized that I'm bored with the same 5-6 meals. Trying to find new permutations of said meals is also a task I don't completely enjoy. Only Tuesdays should signal a specific food (e.g. Taco Tuesdays). So here goes a novel experiment - I'm going to try and cook something "new" once a week. Full disclosure - I'm a big fan of

Book Review: Inspired by Rachel Held Evans

I was anxiously awaiting the email that arrived. The day before, via facebook, a notification had been posted to fill out a form, hit submit, and cross your fingers to receive an advanced copy of Rachel Held Evans' new book,  Inspired: Slaying Giants, Walking on Water, and Loving the Bible Again, and being a part of the book launch team. The email arrived, as did the golden ticket (aka the PDF of the advanced copy). To put this in perspective, I have been an RHE fangirl since 2012 when I first read A Year of Biblical Womanhood.  I was just out of seminary, recently married, and trying to figure out life. The humor in her writing amidst her earnest questions about what the Bible calls women to be versus what a conservative, evangelical society told women. I loved it. On top of that, my church had RHE come in 2014 and I was able to meet her (and be her chauffeur) and she was just as gracious and funny as her voice in her writing posited her to be. I never had the same affi

The Syllabus for the Next 18 Months

I decided at some point in the last week that I wanted to make a checklist of 30 things to do before I turned 30. Creating a list of 30 things is harder than I imagined it would be. But, to quote Julie Andrews (which I suppose is actually quoting Rodgers & Hammerstein), "let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start." There's nothing magical about turning thirty. I imagine that on July 2, 2015, when I wake up, my eyes will still be blue, my fingers will still number ten, my instant desire will be to go back to sleep. That said, it is one of those watershed points in life. The idea of approaching thirty is both reassuring and daunting. At least I'm theoretically past the point of having a quarter-life crisis. What I want to do is be able to look back at my 20s and tell my future kids about all the adventures their parents had before they were thirty. Creating this list isn't going to create those adventures. We've already had s