The People You Haven’t Met Yet
***Why Building Diverse Communities Matters More Than Ever
TLDR:
(too long, didn’t read)Empathy requires connection. We can’t truly understand or care about people we don’t interact with. Research shows that real-life relationships help break down bias.
Communities are breaking down. Isolation is rising, fueled by social media and screen time. This leads to distrust, polarization, and even an increase in “deaths of despair.”
Bridging is essential. We naturally bond with people like us, but we need to bridge by engaging with those who are different. Activities like bowling (yes, really) create space for connection.
Laws alone don’t create belonging. DEI efforts can open doors, but true inclusivity comes from emotional connection—not just policies. We need more real-life interaction to make lasting change.
We have to choose connection. Fear and division thrive in isolation. If we want a better world, we have to actively build diverse communities—and maybe even start a bowling league.
Give Me the Deets!
Give me the juicy detailsI recently had a conversation with a friend who said something along the lines of, “People shouldn’t have to know or learn about people who are different from them in order to have empathy.”
I get it. In theory, we humans are lofty creatures, naturally wired for compassion. But research—and, let’s be honest, lived experience—suggests otherwise.
Empathy isn’t a switch that flips on just because we’re good people. It grows through connection. If we don’t interact with people who are different from us, how can we possibly understand them? And if we don’t understand them, how can we expect to care about their struggles, joys, and realities in a meaningful way?
If you think logically about how bias comes about in any argument, we inherently know that our own viewpoint is the one most prevalent to ourselves. I don’t need anyone to explain why I think or feel the way I do—it’s self-evident to me! But I can bet most of my readers have been in a conversation—whether online or in person—where they’ve walked away thinking the other person was completely irrational, illogical, or even blind to reality. And yet, that person likely felt the exact same way about you.
The point is, we often struggle to empathize with perspectives different from our own. And that’s where connection becomes critical.
The Cost of a Broken Community
In a recent episode of What Now? with Trevor Noah, Robert Putnam discusses the rise of deaths of despair—suicide, addiction, and other tragedies stemming from isolation and hopelessness. His research shows that communities are breaking down, and it’s making us sick—physically, emotionally, and socially.
We might assume that modern life is just too busy for social connection, but the numbers tell a different story. We actually work fewer hours and have more free time than past generations. The catch? We’re spending those extra hours glued to screens instead of engaging with real people.
Even social media companies admit they could design platforms to encourage more in-person connection—but they don’t, because keeping us isolated (and endlessly scrolling) makes them more money. And when communities break down, side effects follow:
Social isolation—we lose the small, everyday interactions that remind us we belong.
Distrust in others—we assume the worst about people we don’t know.
Political polarization—we retreat into ideological bubbles.
Distrust in government—a vacuum of connection leads to deep societal fractures.
The result? A vicious cycle. We feel disconnected, so we isolate more. We isolate more, so we fear and distrust even more.
Bridging the Divide
Putnam talks about two kinds of social ties:
Bonding: Connecting with people who are like us—same background, beliefs, interests.
Bridging: Reaching out to people who are not like us.
Both are important, but we’ve done a lot of bonding and not nearly enough bridging. And bridging happens when we engage in activities where shared humanity—rather than shared ideology—is the focus.
For example, bowling. (Bowling is in reference to Putnam’s book Bowling Alone.)
The goal of bowling has nothing to do with politics, religion, or personal identity. You just show up, roll the ball, and probably laugh at how bad you are. And in that space, surrounded by people you might not otherwise meet, you get a chance to see something important—people who are different from you are also reasonable, compassionate, logical, funny, and kind. They have families, jobs, struggles, and joys, just like you do.
And if we don’t actively choose to create these opportunities for connection, fear wins. Extremism wins. Isolation wins.
We Can’t Legislate Empathy
Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) efforts existed to make sure everyone got a seat at the table. But here’s what I’m realizing: Laws and policies aren’t enough.
You can force people to make room, but that doesn’t mean they’ll want to. It doesn’t make them care. And on the other side, the people who finally get a seat often feel like they don’t truly belong. (Speaking from experience.)
Why? Because humans don’t function on logic alone. Emotion is what drives change. And we haven’t had enough bridging—enough real, human interactions—to create the understanding and empathy needed to make change stick.
So... Who’s Up for Bowling?
I honestly didn’t want to get political with my writing. I want my blog to feel like a place where everyone can find something useful. But let’s be real—everything is political now. Existing is political. Loving people is political.
Far-right xenophobic groups are gaining traction all over the world. Why? Because fear is a powerful tool. And if we don’t actively work to build real, diverse communities, that fear will keep winning.
If you’ve made it this far—first, thank you. Second, do you want to start a bowling league? I used to love it as a kid, and honestly, the world seems to balance on the edge of us being able to have fun and recognize the humanity of faces that do not look like our own.
Here's to building new possibilities with new people in new places.
Hugs,
Astrid M
