Building a Community

I have been reflecting a lot recently on the word community and how it pertains to me and my life. Community can mean so many different things to different people, but for me, the first thing that comes to mind is improv, because it has become such a huge part of my life these days.

Over the years, I've been lucky enough to find some wonderful people through improv. Some have become friends, some have become collaborators, some I only get to see on a screen, and one even became my wife. There is something special about being part of a group of people who share a love of making things up, taking creative risks and occasionally making complete fools of themselves.

My wife Sekki and I have also had the pleasure of building our own little improv community in North Wales with Flintshire Funnybone. Recently, we were part of a lovely documentary about the group, which got me thinking about what it means to create a space where people can come together and feel comfortable being themselves.

One of the things I love most is seeing people arrive, perhaps a little unsure of what they've let themselves in for, and gradually become part of the fun. There is no pressure to be the funniest person in the room, and nobody needs to arrive with a suitcase full of brilliant ideas. Although, if anyone does have one, we're happy to take a look.

Of course, not every improv community gets it right. I hear stories from people around the world who have felt unwelcome or unsafe in groups where they had hoped to find friendship and a sense of belonging. It makes me sad, because these spaces should give people the freedom to experiment, make mistakes and discover what they can do when they feel supported.

That doesn't mean every group has to suit everyone. We're all different, and sometimes you have to find the people who are right for you. But I think we should always try to make our little corners of the world welcoming places to be.

Something else I've come to appreciate is that community doesn't stop with the people in the room. Our home for Flintshire Funnybone, Caffi Isa, is a community in its own right. The people there have become part of our extended family, and there's something lovely about knowing that the place where we gather to play silly games is also somewhere that means so much to other people.

I feel very lucky to have found these connections, and even luckier that Sekki and I have been able to create a space where other people can find some of their own.

Perhaps that's what I've been thinking about most. Community isn't necessarily something you set out to build with a grand plan. Sometimes it grows from a shared interest, a regular get-together or a group of people who simply enjoy spending time together.

And sometimes it starts with a room full of people pretending to be hairy monsters.

I'm rather glad mine did.