Hub Happenings in the Milan / Berlin / Gorham Region

In his book of advice to the young, If This Isn’t Nice, What Is?, Kurt Vonnegut urges: “We have to continually be jumping off cliffs and developing our wings on the way down.” Sometimes in community building, as in life, we are not so much jumping off cliffs as being pushed off of them. No amount of careful planning, constructing, and preening can prepare us when circumstance reminds us that our self-made wings are held together with mere wax and a prayer; the sun beats down a bit warmer than we remember, the ocean looks a bit closer than we’d like (I see you, Icarus). The challenge is to not succumb to the free-fall, but to take a beat and readjust. Even if mid-fall finds us frantically flapping, prayer starts to sound like bargaining, and we’re reaching for the duct tape. 

Every year, the Milan Village School works with the Hub on a variety of Community Service Learning projects. Though some projects shift yearly based on community needs, the annual dinner for area senior citizens has become a tradition of sorts. A small group plans the meal, raises funds through a bake sale, and then cooks and serves the meal at the Milan Community Cafe in the basement of our local church. As with any annual event, the tendency towards a “rinse and repeat” approach creeps in. The myriad questions of the first year: “when, where, and how,” are already answered and the only devil is in the details. Throughout this past spring in planning with the group, I noticed this shift. Brainstorming was surface level, we often filled time with busy-work, and the group very quickly tired of planning. What had felt heady with the unknown in years past, had become a bit mundane to be honest. 

The day of the event finds a beautifully decorated dining room, replete with streamers and balloons. Empty vases wait to be filled with fresh flowers, the silence waits to be filled with music, laughter, and conversation. The refrigerators are filled to the brim with food ready to be carefully prepared and served. Not one, but two (TWO) ovens and stovetops sit menacingly and obstinately cold:  stovetop coils refusing to glow red and ovens offering only feeble warmth. Oh, shit…why is it so warm? And why is the ocean getting so much closer? And this is it, right? The moment the Vonnegut alludes to. Maybe not so much choice involved, but still the challenge to gauge the closing gap between earth and sky and make the choice to develop those wings…or go splat. 

The beauty of community building is that it is not a solo project. When a crisis arises, we’re never alone. Help is always on the way, or, at least, one frantic text away. Discovering the stoves were not working, Paul and Sue Blais instantly asked what they could do to help, offering to open their home for us to cook in. I am lucky to live only a few miles from the church though, so into the car went piles of food and out came the crockpots. Steamed broccoli turned into roasted broccoli, piles of fettuccine bubbled away and then were stored in giant steamer trays. Ernie Miner, bless his heart, had already offered to bake the rolls in his kitchen. Instead of trays of baked chicken, Ernie helped us hastily assemble countertop grills and Melinda spent the better part of her afternoon grilling chicken. Sally mixed the salad as folks started flowing through the doors, giving last minute waitressing advice to the girls. Phoebe jumped on the line, slicing chicken and filling plates. And my sweet group of students ran around like chickens with their heads cut off, filling cups with lemonade and iced tea, taking orders, and being somewhat bewildered. When Caden jumped on dishes, handily emptying out the hot water tank within an hour, Ashley filled coffee pots and crock pots with water to heat and doggedly scrubbed alfredo sauce from piles of dishes. It was almost unbearingly challenging. It was glorious. 

Though the goal of the dinner itself is to provide a lovingly prepared meal for our area senior citizens, the real glory of our annual dinner is seeing how community comes together. This year, in particular, the way that neighbors show up to help address challenges was highlighted. I’ll be honest, those who attended the dinner are somewhat a blur to me now. Yet, even weeks later, I can’t forget watching a group of people develop their own wings in real time, buffering myself and a small group of students. Together, we overcame the free-fall and landed, maybe a bit ruffled and bruised from our adventure, but with new growth and resilience to face challenges ahead.