It’s Not Easy Being New

Building a Culture of Courageous Connections

By emilie boggis.

There’s something in the air. 

Everywhere I go lately I am hearing a renewed commitment to community. Several friends have shared that their year long goal is to know the names of everyone on their street. An international women’s group is offering “how to’s” for creating local gatherings. One Synod is offering guidance and even funding (!) for faith communities to move beyond their own walls and break bread with their yet-unknown neighbors. Even a local teenager shared that she’s giving up her after-school activity so that she has the time to “hang out” in her community. In each of the commitments, the goal is not to gain knowledge or to run a program. It is simply to foster relationships on a very human level. It is, as Stephen Covey writes about relationships, to move at the “speed of trust.” If the United States is going to heal our divides, they tell me as they follow the guidance of Rev. Jennifer Bailey, it will only happen at the speed of our relationships. So, we start by knowing one another’s names. 

There is [at least] one problem. It’s not easy being new! There is real risk in initiating a relationship. How do you know your neighbors if they never come out of their houses? Do you knock on their door? Do you invite them over? [It’s easier, my teenager shared with me, if you have a dog to walk.] Will you be seen as some weirdo if you talk to the person who consistently sits in the coffee shop at the same time as you? What if you want to join a local group? How do you even find out about local groups? And then, what if you show up and no one talks to you? What if you don’t know the rules? The discomfort is real. 

It takes a fair amount of courage. 

The architecture of the church I once served actually heightened the anxiety for our newcomers, many of whom were seeking community. Landlocked on 0.2 acres in an urban suburb, it was tight on space. Social hour happened downstairs, which—while it was easy enough to navigate and the building itself was inviting—it also required going down a narrow stairway that opened out into a fairly large room. No one could see what they were getting into until they arrived. You’d almost be overwhelmed by the crowd and the noise the moment you entered, followed by a sense that you were now trapped. To be honest, even longtime members had a hard time entering the lower level room. It reminded me of the middle school cafeteria. No one was really paying any attention to you, and yet, it felt like there was a spotlight on you. 

Joining an online group can give you the heebie-jeebies because Zoom architecture also gives that same middle school experience. You move from your own safe space into a “room” that you cannot see, suddenly surrounded by people you do not know. Depending on the meeting settings, your video and sound are locked and loaded, and you are in prime time. Because I’m often the Zoom organizer, I had forgotten this dynamic until I became the “end user” (aka brand new participant) at an online 3Practices Circle. I was ready to observe the group and definitively not prepared to share. When I arrived, I discovered a small group of eight people, two of whom were referees. They all seemed to know one another, and three participants didn’t have their cameras on. I started sweating. “Oh no,” I thought, ever the dutiful student, “I am going to feel compelled to participate.” There was no sense of a “back row,” and it felt more embarrassing to click on the “leave the meeting” button. That’s when the head referee welcomed all of us, assuring us that there was no requirement to come off mute or even turn on our cameras. Good participation, they said, included simply listening and observing. I was skeptical, but as the session progressed, I noticed that the refs kept their promise. Crisis averted. 

Building a culture of connection is an admirable goal. It’s also a risk. Too much time isolated from one another during the pandemic has also made our social skills rusty. Does our desire for connection, belonging, and social change outweigh our anxiety? We cannot let our anxiety prevent us from following through on our goal. At the same time, we need manageable ways of moving through it. 

Many of our faith traditions have wisdom for the newbies among us. In Zen Buddhism, practicing a beginner’s mind teaches you to approach all of life as if for the first time. Similarly, the Quakers through Parker Palmer teach us to turn to wonder (get curious) when the going gets tough. Consider what from your faith tradition and values helps you acknowledge discomfort and also lean into new connections. 

Then, anchor yourself in small movements towards your intention of community. 

Anchor 1: Stay connected to what’s motivating you. 

With 3Practices, I was motivated to experience people connecting across their differences. I wondered whether it was even possible. That motivation meant that I didn’t leave the meeting when I was anxious. Write down your motivation. Say it like a mantra. 

Anchor 2: What’s the next most faithful step I can take? 

When newcomers walked through the doors of the congregation I served, many of them had already taken several small steps: looking at the website, watching a service online, connecting with a friend who attended. Some even first drove to the church on a Sunday morning, parked on the street, and then left. With each step, they got closer. Break it down. All you need to do is take a deep breath and then, the first step. 

Anchor 3: Talk to the organizer. 

If you are joining a group, send an inquiry to the organizer to discern whether the group actively welcomes newcomers. Questions you might want to ask include: How am I required to participate? Can I observe first? How do they help new people integrate into the group? 

Anchor 4: Ask for support. 

When my friend finished her first called ministry, she shared with me her desire to celebrate with a new experience: parasailing in the Atlantic Ocean. [She’s one of these people who challenges herself to face her fears.] She wondered: Would I be willing to go with her? I was honored! It opened me up to something I had never really considered, and the experience was beautiful! Plus, she really did need me when we got all of the way up there!

To get you started, LeaderWise is inviting you to practice being a newbie! Try out our free offerings in the month of May:

• Kick off May with a 3Practices Circle (I’m now a trained referee!) on the theme of “Here is my one big idea for faith communities…”: Friday, May 2, 11 am CT Register here.

• Celebrate May’s end with the LeaderWise Learning Hour at noon CT on May 27.

If you’d like to know more (Anchor 3), I’m here to help: admin@leaderwise.org.

Journalist Derek Thompson recently named this the Anti-Social Century. Americans are spending more and more time alone. Our “aloneness” is reshaping our realities. It is certainly changing our ministry contexts. Throughout this year, LeaderWise writers will share their outlooks on our Anti-Social Century and what we can do to build a culture of connection.

Interested in other articles on the Culture of Connection?

2025 Resolution Against Loneliness by Mary Kay DuChene

Ingredients for Connection: Solitude & Connectedness by Becca Fletcher

Creating Time for Connection by Cindy Halvorson

Am I Safe Here? From LeaderWise’s Leadership Team