It’s just been a long weekend called “Labor Day,” a holiday dedicated to honoring the dignity of work. And yes, work often means the job you do for a paycheck. But there is another kind of work we do all the time, the work of building and sustaining community.
The work of community takes energy, patience, and a willingness to show up for one another. And like any hard work, it requires stepping back sometimes to rest and reset. This holiday, I took that break in the African bush, watching animals.
You might think that has nothing to do with neighborhoods, town halls, or block parties. But curiously, that is exactly what I came home thinking about.
Safari is, at its heart, a study in coexistence. Every sunrise drive is an unfolding drama of who shares space with whom, who eats first, who warns whom of danger. It’s also a reminder that community isn’t a luxury. It’s survival.
The Meerkat Model
If meerkats had a municipal charter, it would read something like: “Everyone has a job, everyone is accountable, and everyone benefits.”
Their system is simple: a few dig and forage, one or two stand sentry, and when danger approaches, an alarm call rings out and the entire colony dives for cover. No individual could survive alone for long. The sentry role, in particular, made me think of how rarely in modern civic life we rotate that responsibility. How the same “watchers” often burn out while others assume they’re off duty.
In human communities, too, safety depends on shared vigilance, not just police patrols or official warnings. It’s the neighbor who texts when your porch light is out, the friend who notices when you’ve gone quiet, the organizer who sees trouble brewing before it hits the headlines.
And people across the country told us exactly that:
"We have a neighborhood watch where our neighbors including my family look out for one another in case something bad is about to happen or happens we have each other's back." – 47, Female, Hampden, MA
"While we have problems, we are all working together to overcome them. Recently we have made strides in addressing homelessness and we have many charities in town that are assisting those in need." – 60, Male, Independent, Alamosa, CO
"If anyone sees a problem they more than likely step in to help the person or animal in need." – 28, Female, Republican, Davidson, TN
"I serve on the police and fire commission which I enjoy. Didn't realize until last year that I have been serving for over 20 years. Time flies when you're having fun." – 71, Female, Democrat, Racine, WI
"It is a healthy community with a lot going for it, good schools, good churches, great kids, teachers and coaches" – 72, Male, Republican, Wood, WV
The Benefit of Memory
Elephants don’t just travel, they navigate their history. Led by a matriarch, the herd’s movements are informed by memories of where the good grazing is after a drought, or which route leads to water when the river runs low.
There’s no written archive, no searchable database instead just lived experience, passed down. It’s an inheritance of knowledge, carried in muscle memory and long-distance calls.
In our towns and cities, that role is played by the community elders, the long-time organizers, the local historians who remember not just what worked but why it worked. Lose that, and we wander without a map. Keep it, and we move together with purpose.
In Civic Pulse, people share reflections on the importance of that memory, and the value of passing it forward:
"Elderly persons and individuals with special needs are integrated with the community and respected for their contributions." – 54, Female, Independent, Adair, MO
"I couldn't be more blessed to live in a community with well-rounded, knowledgeable people." – 59, Female, Independent, Orange, CA
"I feel like I have a lot in common with my community, but also I get to learn a lot from my community as well." – 24, Female, Independent, San Bernardino, CA
A Lesson in Coexistence
On one morning drive, we found zebras, wildebeest, and impala grazing side by side. They weren’t friends, at least, not in the way we think of friendship. But they coexisted because they benefited from each other’s presence. More eyes meant more warning of predators; different diets meant no competition for food.
It reminded me that not all community bonds have to be warm and fuzzy to be valuable. Sometimes, we’re linked by mutual interest, complementary needs, or the recognition that our fates are intertwined whether we like each other or not.
And many Americans shared stories of exactly these practical, sometimes unexpected, forms of coexistence:
"I love that our city accurately reflects the people. We have Black artists who’ve beautified our parks, we have grocery stores for every nation, we have Cricket fields in our local parks, and our community events are wonderful." – 32, Female, Democrat, Schenectady, NY
"There's only about 8 people out of the 50 that live here that has a vehicle so we all depend on them to take us to the store and doctors." – 54, Male, Independent, Gaston, NC
"I say it is good because I hang out at bars, and after everyone has had a few drinks, you feel like everyone loves you." – 59, Female, Independent, Bryan, GA
"I know all of my neighbors, we have block parties, we participate in mutual aid, we pray together," – 33, Male, Democrat, Denton, TX
Final Thoughts
Community, in the bush, isn’t an abstract value. It’s the difference between life and death. In ours, it’s the difference between loneliness and belonging, between fragility and resilience.
I left safari with the dust of the savannah in my shoes and the sense that our civic life could use a little more meerkat, elephants, and zebras. And if that sounds a too wild, consider the following:
In your community, who stands “on sentry” for the rest of you and how do you share that responsibility?
What pieces of community memory are you carrying, and who will you pass them to?
Who are the unlikely allies you share space with, and how could you work together for mutual benefit?
Where might over-reliance on independence be leaving people—or you—more vulnerable than you think?
The animals don’t romanticize community. They just live it.
Don’t forget to take your own break. Compassion fatigue is real.
Murmuration is a non-profit that strengthens community-driven change at the local level. By equipping local organizations with powerful data, technology, and insights, Murmuration helps them amplify community voices, build collective power, and drive solutions that reflect the lived realities of the people they serve.murmuration.org