I grew up in the 1960s, protested the Vietnam War. It was a time of great upheaval, but also of great hope and joy. Large numbers of us marched in the streets, chanting, “Hell no, we won’t go.” (Never mind that as a woman, I wasn’t going to get called.) At the dinner table, I argued with my parents who believed the government’s trope about the “domino theory.” The whole world would slide into Communism if we didn’t stop them in Southeast Asia.

It was a time of civil rights protests and women’s liberation. I read Betty Friedan’s, “Feminine Mystique,” subscribed to Ms. Magazine. Remember the protest songs? Phil Ochs, I Ain’t Marching Anymore. Bob Dylan, The Times They are A-Changing. Joan Baez, We Shall Overcome. It wasn’t perfect. White women often left behind their Black sisters. Women continued to be victims of misogyny and abuse. Still, we knew we were on the right side of history, and we marched with conviction and the dream of a more peaceful world.

Then what happened?

What reminded me of the 1960s was a documentary I recently watched, Join or Die, about the work of sociologist, Robert Putnam (Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community, 2001). His contention is that since the 1960s, Americans have been steadily less engaged in their communities. We’re not worshipping together. We don’t participate civically. There are fewer sewing circles and bridge clubs, bowling leagues. Union membership has declined. Social trust is at an all-time low. (If you’re interested in seeing the documentary, Join or Die, it will be shown locally at the Palm Theater beginning September 13^th. Or bring the film to your own community!)

Growing up on the east coast, I remember wooden signs posted as you entered a town, listing the local meetings. Kiwanis. Rotary. Soroptimist. Elks. Lions. What happened to those signs? I suppose one thing that happened is the internet. But according to Putnam’s research, we’re not joiners the way we used to be.

In a recent report, the Surgeon General called attention to our epidemic of loneliness and isolation. “Loneliness is far more than just a bad feeling—it harms both individual and societal health.” The consequences are not trivial: cardiovascular disease, dementia, stroke, depression, anxiety. In short, when we’re disconnected from our community, our schools, workplaces, and our neighbors, we die younger.

But the times, they are a-changin’.

I believe we’re in a ’60s kind of moment. Instead of sewing circles and bowling alleys, we’re gathering in our books clubs and cafes, our hiking groups and union halls, Zoom rooms and the yoga studio. We’re writing postcards and knocking on doors, registering new voters, buying t-shirts and coffee mugs. We’re breathing a sigh of relief—not that we’ve overcome the polarization, the lies, the negativity. Climate change is still an existential crisis. Poverty and discrimination, homelessness, famine will continue to cause immense suffering to billions worldwide.

To be clear, change isn’t guaranteed, but we can see a pathway forward. Joy is beginning to overtake hopelessness and rage. Laughter is drowning out fear.

It made me think about my own joining. Over the span of many years, I’ve been involved in a myriad of local organizations. Still, I don’t much think of myself as a joiner. Then it occurred to me that I’ve been hiking with a group of 20+ women for the last thirteen years. Every Thursday, if I’m in town, you’ll find me out on the trails with them. Of course, there’s the enjoyment of hiking with others, but over the years, we’ve been there for each other: birthdays and grandchildren, but also divorce and loss, broken ankles and cancer treatment.

And now, in the spirit of the ’60s, we’re writing postcards to get out the vote.

When we’re civically engaged, we have a preexisting vehicle for organizing, whether it’s feeding the homeless or protesting banned books or providing meals to an ill friend. In “Bowling Alone,” Robert Putnam wrote, “healthy democracies depend upon social connectedness.”

Democracies also thrive when we’re fueled by joy and hope and a certainty that we’re in this together. So join up and get out there! Your life may depend on it.

I invite you to read related blogs: Thin Places: The Possibility of Transformation and One Bird at a Time: When We All Care Together.

Also my novels, Thin Places and Cross Body Lead are available locally at Volumes of Pleasure and wherever books are sold.