In the Bay Area, which attracts thousands of new residents every year, some residents are tumbleweeds. People in this transitory tribe are passing through until they find their next spot. Others are natives to the area — trees with roots that dive deep into the soil. In between these extremes, you’ll find the shrubs of the Silicon Valley. These are the people looking to make much more than a temporary home in the area but without the longevity of someone who remembers what the San Francisco skyline looked like before the Transamerica Pyramid.

For some Bay Area residents, the depth of your roots is a proxy for your right to get involved. The logic behind this argument is easy to follow: Those shaping a community should be the residents that have seen it grow, recoil, improve and falter; only this sort of experience and familiarity can ensure you’re doing what’s best for the area. In an ideal world, this model makes a lot of sense. After all, a tall tree has weathered a lot of winters — clearly it possesses unique traits that should be studied and shared.

But strong logic doesn’t always work in practice.

In an area with unacceptable homelessness, intolerable rates of pedestrian and cyclist fatalities, and unbelievable inequality, we need all the help we can get — yes, including the tumbleweeds. Though a transient resident may never intend to make this area home, he or she may have just the sort of expertise, energy or enthusiasm to move the dial on one of our many entrenched problems. To deny their right to assist their neighbors is to deny them their right to be empathetic and action-oriented. To greet their willingness to volunteer with undeserved animosity is a selfish prioritization of one conception of community over the needs of neighbors.

A scoff when new residents raise their hand to help is a step backward for a community that has miles to walk.

In 2015, more than 5,000 people moved to San Francisco. Since then, thousands more have arrived. I’m among those who moved in the past five years. For the most part, my engagement with community groups has been celebrated and encouraged. For example, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed spending time with the San Francisco Neighborhood Court and, most recently, the Legal Aid Association of California. Nevertheless, when some people see relatively new residents like myself, they quickly identify a tumbleweed or shrub and look the other way.

In this season of giving, we must avoid challenging the roots of those eager to make a difference, regardless of how long they intend to stay. Consider that the roots of a 350-foot redwood tree typically only go about 5 to 6 feet deep. But they may span up to 100 feet horizontally. The Bay Area population is like a redwood. A few residents have roots that extend deeper than the others. These folks undoubtedly provide stability. But the majority of people have shallow ties that are still essential to growth of the tree.

Now is not the time to discourage the reach of shallow roots and risk the health of our community.

Kevin Frazier lives in San Francisco’s Richmond District and is pursuing a law degree at the UC Berkeley School of Law.