By Guest Contributor: Shauna Vert
com·mu·ni·tas
[kuh-myoo-ni-tahs]
noun Anthropology .
intense feelings of social togetherness and belonging, often in connection with rituals. In communitas, people stand together “outside” society, and society is strengthened by this.
Confession, ladies: I absolutely love to feel like I’m a part of something big. I crave it. If I ever joke about “holding hands and singing Kumbaya,” I’m probably just fantasizing out loud. It’s a desire I have to be careful with, of course. For better or for worse, communitas is a motivating force.
Given where I am, this is an interesting thing for me to be seeking out.
I just moved into a cute little residence on Capitol Hill, Washington DC. This makes me officially “new to the area.” After one month here, I kinda-sorta know my way around. I have located the Metro station, and can even fake confidence while using it (it’s all a ruse, I promise). I have almost mastered comfortably interacting with security, although I’m still intimidated. There is rarely any communitas in any of this, of course. I have been actively owning my “outsider” status and living off of those sexy, sexy words “I’m from Canada!” Being from a so-called frozen wasteland less than 1,000 kilometres away has its perks–yes, apparently I am almost “exotic” by American standards. However, it also has its downsides.
Downside# 1: Settling in can sometimes feel a constant stream of awkward “Sorry, I’m new here?” trial-and-error moments. Those aren’t quite the moments communitas are made of.
Downside #2: The United States of America has some amazing opportunities for communitas. However, these opportunities are often very tied into patriotism and national identity. I’m not exactly American.
The only solution to these things seems to be the good ol’ “Fake it ‘till you make it.” Cue inauguration day.
Obama’s second inauguration promised to be everything a communitas addict could ever desire. People from all over the country were coming together in celebration, reflection, collective national energy. I was excited that I would be there, literally living right in the middle of the action. I wanted more than anything to be a part of it, if only just to experience the energy.
It was time to go undercover American.
No one needs to know that I just got into the country a few weeks ago, or that I bought my red, white, and blue scarf in France. I can still be moved by the community, culture, and patriotism of this country. After all, I am interning for the Smithsonian Institution. I study American History, and I quickly started saying y’all a couple weeks after arriving. No one needs to know.
At 9:30 am on January 21 2013, I headed out the residence door. I followed a lively crowd several kilometers–wait, sorry, miles. The crowd thickened as we got closer to the Washington Monument. I marveled at how calm, polite, and kind everyone was. No one was pushing or shoving. The excitement in the crowd was almost tangible. It was probably one of the most beautiful things I have ever experienced.
…of course, I spent most of my time in the crowd repeating ‘Please please please don’t have to pee’ to myself as we crawled down the street to approach the massive screens. Still, in between my wishing and concerns were real moments of beauty, of civilization, of communitas. I wish I could properly express the feeling that penetrated through that crowd.
One woman streamed the pre-ceremony on her smart phone, holding it out for everyone around. Another stood up on a cement block and looked ahead, announcing the crowd control situation for those who couldn’t see. “Anything to help my people!” she laughed. Everyone around erupted into cheers at her mock inaugural speech.
I think I learned what the word “joyous occasion” meant that day.
When I finally reached the glitchy screens, I watched the guy in front of me take a flask out of his jacket and offer a swig to those on either side of them. One man, accepted, and they shared a drink and a laugh at the audio lag on the screen. It was obvious that they had never met before that moment. And it was obvious that this didn’t matter.
They were Americans. This was their President. This was their country. They were present for each other in that moment.
Communitas.