I just want to see people smile again.

I spent much of last week at Disneyworld, the Happiest Place on Earth. Believe it or not, I was there working on a project for Strong Towns. I had picked the week long in advance for its therapeutic timing (after the election, kickoff to the Christmas season) and ridiculously low cost. One of my best friends went along to help out, get away, and enjoy some time together.

I’m not trying to discourage people from going to the parks because, even though we did a lot of work, we also had a great time. Disney has done an astounding job of making things work, even with social distancing and all the other safety protocols. It was quite genius, in fact. I felt safer there than taking a trip to the grocery store here.

Even so, it was very strange to spend so much time in this generally happy place without seeing a single person smile. In an article I wrote two weeks ago, I noted how “I miss sharing smiles with others.” The overwhelming impression I took away from five days at Disneyworld was safety, but with a lack of joy.

In Minnesota, we are well into a second wave of the pandemic and now entering into a second (albeit different) version of a shutdown. During the mandated stay-at-home order last spring, the hospital a block from my house saw barely a handful of covid patients. Reports are now that we are at capacity and sending people elsewhere, the intersection where personal choice violently collides with impact to others. I now personally know people who have been infected and hospitalized. 

I live in a house with teenage girls who feel isolated and lonely, their activities and social lives now canceled like their education already has been, and a journalist wife who spends much of her days telling the stories of the deceased and the families they have left behind. Some evenings we just sit together on the couch and find reasons to make each other smile. I fully know we are among the fortunate.

In the only way that really matters, Thanksgiving is canceled as families have been asked to not gather with anyone not already living in the household. As someone who is not big on eating the meal but do look forward to sharing the meal, the joy is dissipated. So many smiles not being exchanged.

And as the days shorten and the long, dark winter descends upon us, I can sense myself being impacted by the weight of it. At one point this week, I was sitting at my desk, alone here in the office, and I just started to cry. It is really not like me, but I am sad. I think we all are. I want to see people smile again.

And so I have. This week is Member Week at Strong Towns, and I have had the opportunity to call many members who donated last year but have not gotten around to it this year. These conversations are amazing. The energy that people have for this movement, and the stories of people joining together—even in difficult times—to keep things going in their place are inspiring.

I have also sat in on four focus groups, gatherings of four to six people, to discuss updates to our strategic plan. Again, here are people who all have a positive story about how Strong Towns has changed their lives or their communities. And they all have ideas, and passion, for how to keep this momentum going. These sessions are filled with smiles. I am so grateful.

Our two annual member drives are the most stressful weeks of the year. Our organization’s funding is like a stool with three legs: membership, events, and major donors (including foundations). The pandemic destroyed the events leg and radically changed the foundation leg, and not for the better. That has meant that even more is riding on membership than usual, and we rely on our members a lot. I was prepared for a week of screen refreshes and sleepless nights, but that is not how it has gone.

We are still a ways from our goals, but the trends thus far have exceeded our expectations. In a moment of darkness, you all are coming through with great light. We still have a lot of work to do with our major gifts over the next few weeks, and we still need to see how today goes, but our members are giving us a solid base of support in which to build upon. I am deeply grateful.

Financial stability is critical because we have a ton of things we need to do. The second phase of Strong Towns is coming to an end, the phase where we focused almost exclusively on growing the movement and reaching new people with our message. The third phase is about to begin, where we start to add the capacity needed to take all this momentum and really get things done. 

We are gearing up for a big launch of new things in 2021. As always, it is our members that have made this possible. This week you are once again showing what this bottom-up revolution is all about.

This smile is for all of you, along with a toast of something called “blue milk.” I hope we have a chance to smile in person again soon and toast our collective good fortunes.

Until then, take a moment to share a smile with others in the comments section. We all deserve it, and it will make you feel great.