I never thought that isolation could bring on a greater sense of community, but it did. I think back to a year ago today- I was frantic and stressed in my professional, full time job. In January, I started querying agents. If I didn’t get a response, I was bumping them for the first time. My life felt frantic. I wasn’t in control. There was concern. The Big Sky Documentary Film Festival took place in February and a friend, of my good friend Ann, became ill with a high fever while here. Then a year ago today, I found myself working to get my staff up and running in their own homes. I did this swiftly, in a matter of days. It wasn’t an easy task and I felt in a fog as I was planning for the safety of my colleagues.
News
We began to hear strange sayings: Covid19, lockdown, Coronavirus, shelter-in-place, and social distancing. There was concern of people touching things, surfaces, mail, and each other. Do we wear gloves? Do we wear masks? Trips to the grocery store were trying. Toilet paper out. Cleaning supplies vanished. Ridiculed for wearing gloves and masks. Six a.m. trips to the store became common to pick up necessities as semi trucks were unloaded. Then came isolation.
Isolation
As we sat at home here in Montana my husband and I figured out rather quickly that we couldn’t keep watching Netflix for entertainment. The president spoke of opening by Easter and we heard the lie. We were watching massive amounts of people die all over the world. Italy was signing songs from their balconies and bodies were stacking up. New York was in crisis. We had 30 cases in Montana. We were in fear. Isolation was our security, but mentally it took its toll.
Creativity
Creativity was newly born in our household out of necessity. My husband and I started a Podcast that became a fun date night for the two of us. I built a logo for the show while he researched podcast platforms. We recorded at least once per week and even though at the time, only our family listened in, we were finding creativity again.
Community
Then, a most unusual thing happened. After a month of shelter-in-place, I zoomed with three other writers that I’d met through Instagram: a poet, a fiction writer, and a memoirist who’d already published her book. I’d never done anything like that before. Before Covid, I didn’t even consider doing something like that! Yet, here I was talking to three amazing women about what was happing in the world, the severity of how this was effecting the BIPOC community, and our art. We talked about our art. I made three friends and a connections in a short period of time. As I’d comment on their posts I’d think to myself, “I actually KNOW these women!”
At this point I began to think of our little eZine, Indie It Press, and what I could do with it. Thoughts were forming, but nothing clear was coming to me. How do I make this online space more of a community? I’d let the site go for a very long time and nothing was posted on this space since the last Big Sky Documentary Film Festival in February.
As time passed things became more and more clear that our world, our country, failed many people. People of color. If white people didn’t know before- It was clear now. We failed our community of BIPOC people. In our ignorance, greed, fear, unwillingness to see we failed them. Period.
Share the Mic
Famous white women started to share their mics on social media with women of color. It was beautiful. A woman on social media, @rainydayinmay reached out to me to do the same and participate in #sharethemicnowwritersedition. That is when I met Chantal. It was a beautiful conversation on IGTV. One of the best experiences of my life! I did another interview with Willow. I felt a closeness to these two amazing people in a short time. The discussions were not surface but deep. And Willow asked ME if I was okay in our interview. ME- when I should be asking her.
Writing Community
Then, Mae reached out again to see if I’d like to be part of a writing community a couple of times per week with a workshop once a month. I hesitated. Here’s the deal- every single time something like this came up in my local community, I’d hesitate, doubt myself. If I went, I held back feeling less than others. My ability to build community inside my own community, for whatever reasons, felt near impossible.
I’m saying this right now- that was on me, not on my local community. I held me back. When I did participate in local community writing, it was an enjoyable experience. I met and made great friends. It was my head telling me I wasn’t good enough.
I started the online writing group with Mae and things shifted. My life had pulsing creativity in it again, and people! We laughed. We talked. We cried. We worried about the election. We inspired. We wrote. We shared.
And then it became clear what I needed to do with Indie It Press.
Grief
My daughter was graduating from college during the pandemic and grieving the loss of theatre. Around the same time my husband finished college just as the pandemic started and couldn’t find a teaching job. Artists struggled to create. Neighbors struggled to make a living. Friends lost jobs. Many people became sick with Covid. Humans were dying around us. Yet, I’d found community and creativity.
Imposter Syndrome
I realize that I suffer from imposter syndrome. Never feeling good enough. Worthy enough. Moving through isolation became a realization that I could change that. Not only did I know I could change it- I had to change it. Furthermore, I also know that I’m not unusual in feeling this way and that others struggle too. If I can shift this in myself, I recognize that my ability to participate in my local community will change too. It happened online with amazing women, so I can work toward smashing it completely! Challenge myself. Lift others in the process.
Action
This is the first time in my life I wrote out a business plan. Never, EVER, did I think I’d do anything like this with Indie It Press before Covid19. In the same vein, never has anything felt so right in my life as what I’m doing now with this platform. Because of the people I’ve met in isolation, I’m stronger. I’m more capable. Imposter syndrome is being smashed every single day I put my plan into action. I’m still a dreamer. Now, I’m a doer too.
Am I uncomfortable? Absolutely!
Is this easy? No.
I’m working a full time day job (this I recognize is privilege), querying, writing a historical fiction novel, podcasting with my husband, and building a community for artists of all mediums.
So, no, It’s not easy, but every single minute I do this, it is worth it. This space for artists of all mediums gives me life again. To lift up another creator and work together to defeat imposter syndrome is my mission. I don’t know what will happen with this site after Covid lifts. And that’s okay!
What I do hope, is that when Covid does lift, artists can take the skills they’ve learned here along with the support they receive, and take it out into their local communities. That is my mission.
I don’t know what comes tomorrow. Today- I offer this space for the tomorrows when we can build our local communities. Art heals. It repairs. It catapults change. Change is inevitable. Join me and together we will work to build inclusive communities everywhere through our art.
-Leisa G.
