I went to Tesco this morning. It’s a rare occurrence but I wanted stamps and they’re the nearest place open in the early hours.
As I walked over, the sun was rising and the birds were singing. I felt connected to my environment and as I approached the giant superstore, I had a flash of vision of it being something else. Instead of the concrete car-park, I saw community allotments. The trolley shelters were replaced by storage sheds for gardening tools. I heard children laughing in a playground and saw elders nattering away on benches, playing cards and watching the world go by. Inside the store, I pictured a bustling market place where people traded their wares and gossiped. Also inside were different zones – for example, one for live performances where a student band could play, or a solo performer pick up her guitar. Instead of scheduled, imported entertainment, this was spontaneous and continuous – sometimes music, sometimes comedy, always local. In place of all the advertising billboards, I saw noticeboards holding poems, announcements, requests for lift-shares. I saw a community centre – one where I felt I belonged and which was based on reciprocity and connection. Owned by and for the people in that area, to develop in whichever way they saw fit.
I didn’t buy stamps. The Tesco kiosk department had lost their keys to the till. I waited 15 minutes as the team debated amongst themselves – someone else’s fault, someone else’s money, someone else’s store.
Last week, here in Cambridge, we had a public screening of the film documentary The Power Of Community: How Cuba Survived Peak Oil. This depicts a society which is forced to adapt its infrastructure when it can no longer rely on a constant supply of oil and food. It gives a case study of how people change, re-prioritise and re-allocate their resources in order to feed, house, educate and entertain themselves. I had the honour of introducing this film, hosted by Transition Cambridge. The event was a complete sell-out – we were moved to a bigger screen and even then a hundred people were turned away. I looked out at the sea of 150 expectant faces and saw a community of people choosing to come together to be inspired. In the Q&A session at the end, we all witnessed a cinema full of expertise, with people reflecting on how peak oil will affect Cambridge – offering practical solutions, committing to taking action.
At the moment, the piece of land near my house is host to a Tesco store because that’s what the community wants. We are the community and the power is with us. If we wanted it to be used for another purpose, we could choose that. I wonder what we would choose.
The World Needs Your Passion, So…
1) This week, notice what sense of community you have. Is there somewhere particular where people gather? How large or small do you feel your own community to be?
2) Put your attention on your local High Street or a particular building. If you believed your community were really able to have ownership of that, what would you love it to be like?
3) Ask your neighbours or whoever you feel in community with – what would they like to see? Notice where you have a shared vision and start a conversation about what the first steps could be.
© Corrina Gordon-Barnes, 2008

