If you’re in bed stay in bed

On nostalgia, community, and what happens next

“if you’re in bed stay in bed” reads Elamin Abdelmahmoud’s tweet, an apt riff on the catchphrase reminding voters that they can cast their ballot if they’re in line before polls close. The morning after the election didn’t feel great. Last week wasn’t great either. There was a fire in New Jersey and one in Prospect Park. My Oura ring keeps reminding me that I’m stressed and should “find some time to relax.” Dot tells me that I’m juggling a lot and how are you holding up? The algorithms, at least, are checking in.

But November 6 wasn’t the gut punch I remembered from 2016. Back then, subway cars were full of people crying on their way to work, Instagram flooded with Harry Potter quotes and teary selfies clutching campaign memorabilia. I probably posted some myself. This time, I didn’t get overly optimistic. As Alicia Andrzejewski tweeted before the election: “not one woman who lived through 2016 is allowing herself to be fully excited right now. the body remembers.”

It keeps score, as they say. Despite that, I thought this one was more in the bag—and while we’ll continue to sift through data and read retrospectives, early numbers tell a story we should have seen coming: Gen Z split along gender lines, Trump gained significantly with Latino voters, and grocery costs dominated voter concerns over democracy and abortion rights. Even Florida and Ohio, once battleground states, have become reliably red. The writing was on the wall, if we’d been willing to read it. Turns out, memes can’t win an election (at least not for the left).

Signs and signals

Look at the charts—Post Malone and Morgan Wallen dominating while the Harris campaign aligned with niche electropop. Consider how quickly we’ve cycled through aesthetic revivals: indie sleaze, Y2K, “2014 Tumblr.” From sourdough and cottagecore to trad wives and homemade Capri Suns—the rise of nostalgia we’ve been tracking suddenly looks less like a trend and more like a harbinger. People yearn for a non-existent reality, one “held together by the pastiche of nostalgia, but lacking dimension, tasteless, colorless, impossible to parse for truth,” as Helen Roy puts it.

But wallowing in nostalgia won’t save us. Helen continues: “Chasing abolished pasts down these dead end hallways doesn’t make lonely people less lonely.” We are experiencing koyaanisqatsi—a life in turmoil, out of balance, disintegrating. A state of life that calls for another way of living.

Thank you, Mr. Glass.

Finding our way forward

As Scaachi Koul writes in Slate:

“This election was never going to save us, and so I have to believe it was never going to doom us either... Harris was not a savior; she was only ever a placeholder for something—someone—better. During the first Trump administration, we were tasked with taking care of one another, in whatever ways we could. But there was only ever us.”

While the institutions crumble and the algorithms try to comfort us, real community remains our most powerful tool. Not the shallow networks of professional advancement, but the deep ties that sustain movements and nurture change.

Fostering community

I’ve been contemplating bringing back an in-person gathering I used to host, and have been thinking about what I learned through decades of facilitating community spaces, online and off. Here are a few of those lessons here for those who might be thinking about starting something:

Start small

Building sustainable support systems isn’t about grand gestures. Small, focused groups meeting regularly around a shared activity can build deeper connections over time. Start a resource-sharing group chat, a monthly breakfast meetup, or a silent book club with just one other person (you could even start with these free books from Haymarket & AK Press). Start small and grow organically.

Find your format

When people ask me about connecting beyond their existing social circle, it usually comes with the disclaimer: “...but I’m an introvert.” There are many ways to find your people and bring them together that don’t require you to be an extrovert:

• A dinner series where you ask each guest to bring someone 

• A show-n-tell series around a specific topic

• An async accountability club

• A heads-down writing workshop

• A skill-sharing session where everyone teaches something

• Informal art walks or gallery tours that let the work speak for itself

• Lightning talks or PechaKucha with hang-time after; multiple presenters also means a more diverse audience and wider chance for resonance

Photos from various 100sUnder100 events

Have a clear purpose (beyond networking)

When I worked at CreativeMornings, we used to say that the talks (and free breakfast) were only an excuse for getting people together. Sure, they were great, but you can watch your pick of talks online. People showed up because they wanted to connect with other people. Same for 100sUnder100—it was about the people. Inspiration was gravy. Organize activities that have a clear focus beyond just “networking.” This creates natural conversation starters and takes the pressure off pure social interaction.

Balance structure with flexibility

A clear structure helps people know what to expect and come prepared. Will there be chairs? Food? Drink? How long will the presentations be? Be realistic about time commitments, mix focused time with social connection, make participation optional, avoid over-promising, and allow for a natural ebb and flow.

Make it recurring

A coworking space is not a community. A subscriber list is not a community. A hundred one-on-one coffees is not a community—that’s just a practice. Now when those coffees recur, or we begin to host meetups, or those folks begin sharing resources with each other… then we might be onto something. Just as friendship requires an ongoing investment and repeatedly showing up—so does a community.

Leverage digital spaces thoughtfully

While endless Slack channels aren’t the answer, digital spaces can support community building when used intentionally. I could talk endlessly on this, but I’ll keep it short: Messaging apps can be used to organize spontaneous meetups, celebrate wins, and support each other. Docs can be used to create documentation, knowledge archives, and codes of conduct that establish shared values and practices. With these, however, come a more always-on moderation and constant maintenance.

Develop contribution mechanisms

There’s a difference between an attendee and a contributor. Create ways for others to contribute. It not only gives yourself a break, but infuses fresh perspectives and cultivates a  deeper sense of care and ownership across the community. Let others host, take on planning responsibilities, create shared notes for continuity between meetings, and run with ideas. “A community is only a community once it begins to self-organize,” is a phrase I heard while attending Writeshop hosted by Katherine Durgin-Bruce. Part of this means letting go, and allowing for others to extend and evolve the space you created in unanticipated ways. This can be scary—but great. 

Support existing organizations

The community you seek might already exist! Check out bulletin boards in coffee shops and libraries, ask friends, and send out your bat signal. If all else fails, perhaps starting one of your own will lead you to find another. Link and build. 

On that note, now is a great time to: get a library card, find your local mutual aid groups and environmental action groups, donate to local organizations, as well as national ones, such as the ACLU, Lambda Legal, Point of Pride, Access Reproductive Care Southeast, Indigenous Women Rising, and The National Network of Abortion Funds.

The work ahead

Start where you are, with what you have, with who you know. Build slowly and intentionally. As Octavia Butler wrote: “There’s no single answer that will solve all of our future problems. There’s no magic bullet. Instead there are thousands of answers—at least. You can be one of them if you choose to be.”

Community isn’t about size or scale—it’s about showing up consistently and creating spaces where we can all thrive. Find your people and get to work.

—Carly

P.S. A reading list: Get Together, Twenty Bits I Learned, How We Show Up, The Power of Ritual, The Art of Gathering.