Oktoberfest

Our Oktoberfest outfits!

A little over a year ago, my husband, Carl, and I visited Colorado. Carl spent some of his childhood in Colorado; he studied at Colorado State University, and his first job was in Colorado Springs. His parents live outside of Denver, and many of his college and grad school-era friends are still in Fort Collins. We had a busy visiting schedule that trip, but one moment in particular stood out to me. Carl's best friend from college threw a barbecue in Carl's honor, and about 20 people showed up. It was magnificent. Most of the friends Carl left behind when he moved Massachusetts are still in contact with one another, and in fact, the circle has grown over time. They brought their kids. They hugged us, but they were also happy to see each other. That night in Fort Collins was a beautiful expression of community. 

We came back home after that trip with a question: "How can we create a stronger sense of community on Cape Cod?" I spent a lot of time in my 20s thinking about communities - what makes them work, what makes them form, what makes them fall apart. I have been part of some incredible communities of humans: my housemates in Norway, my fellow grad students in Oregon, almost any group of researchers I work with during field trips. Over the years, I've noticed two things are true for every successful community I've been part of:

1) Every person is accepted for exactly who they are, no exceptions. 

2) Participation is voluntary. 

Simple enough. But here's my question: what starts a great community? In my experience, it's seemed like community formation was pretty spontaneous - I met some people, and they took me in. But how do you go from a group of rag-tag strangers to a close-knit, tight group of friends? 

Carl and I have a couple theories. A community could form around a lynchpin - a charismatic person who just draws others in. A community could form around a common cause, such as the pursuit of science or a hobby. Either way, there has to be a catalyst, so we decided to try multiple strategies. Our charismatic lynchpin is obvious: Kraken, our 100-lb golden doodle. The catalyst is chose is food, or more specifically, Carl's love of cooking incredible food from scratch. We figured that we could bring our friends together over Carl's cuisine, let Kraken serve as an extra draw, and then see what happens. 

Just some of the food Carl (and two helpers) made

So far, it seems to be working. Last weekend, we hosted our largest dinner party yet: Oktoberfest. Carl and I both have German heritage, so we had to dedicate a themed party to the traditional Bavarian festivities. We got keg of Helles Bier from a local brewery, made homemade pretzels (including boiling the dough in lye!), homemade bratwurst, potato dumplings, Flammkuchen (kind of like a thin crust onion pizza), pumpkin soup, and more braised red cabbage than a single household should ever have. We put up a tent in the front yard. And we told our friends to extend the invitation to anyone they wished. 

Oktoberfest was a blast, but the real beauty of the evening was watching connections take shape. Two of our friends who came over early to help cook got to know each other. A few of the kids who showed up with their parents played Legos together. One friend commented that he recognized someone from our dinner parties at while in line at Coffee O. This is exactly what we were trying to accomplish: introducing people to one another and letting a community form. 

I hope it continues!