Even though I no longer live in Boston, I still consider it home. In all honesty, I never actually lived in Boston proper, but grew up in the small suburban town of Norfolk, Massachusetts. So why do I tell people that I’m from Boston? It is because Boston isn’t just a place, it’s a way of life. The city of Boston exudes a tenacious, rebellious, and steadfast energy that initiates you as a member no matter where you’re from. Whether you grew up on the South Side, or take the commuter rail into work each day and walk to work in the freezing rain, sleet, or what often feels like 100% humidity, you’re officially inducted into the Boston way of life. You can learn its history by simply walking the city streets. One of the best history lessons you could ever ask for is yours for the price of a few hours and a good pair of walking shoes – The Freedom Trail. While the trail itself is sometimes lost among the bustling crowds and towering skyscrapers, it’s still there. Boston is a community, and a resilient one at that.

I’ve started thinking about the meaning of community and how I fit into the many different types of communities in which I am lucky to belong. As a social being, I have a number of close friends with whom I create and sustain an intimate sense of connection every day. There is my family who, although they live on the other side of the country, make me feel like I am a part of what is going on in their lives through phone calls, emails, or even something as simple as a text message. As a graduate student, perhaps the most salient community is that of my colleagues and professors. Together, we comprise the School of Organizational and Behavioral Sciences, which is located within the larger Claremont Graduate University. On an even broader scale, I belong to a national, as well as international, community of psychologists who, despite their differences in research interests or practical applications, are bound together by a common passion to help people improve the quality of life. Zooming out even further, layers of community continue to emerge. I am a citizen of the United States of America. I am a woman, a writer, a member of the human race. At a structural level, a community is simply a group of people with a common goal who, apart from that goal, might never come into contact with one another. At a psychological level, communities evolve from a basic, universal need. This is the need to belong, something so deeply entrenched in us that sometimes, outnumbered by the seemingly endless differences among us, we forget that it’s still there.

I heard a man talking on the radio today about why he thought the Boston Marathon bombers decided to do what they did. He talked about his research on the challenges that young people face whose families have immigrated to the United States. Through his studies on college students, he found that those students whose families had recently immigrated to this country have an incredibly difficult time feeling a sense of belongingness to not only the college community, but American culture as a whole. The man offered a jarring example in which he cited the brother as “not having a single American friend.” No one knows for sure if the older brother uttered these exact words. Nor do we know why these two brothers acted as they did. Perhaps it will never be known to any of us. At this point, does it even matter? An 8-year old boy is dead. Two others lost their lives, while over a hundred have suffered gruesome injuries. People who came out to watch the marathon and cheer on the runners had to watch all of that happen.

Why did they do it? I’ve spent the past week or so avoiding that question because I felt I didn’t have the right to answer it. I am extremely lucky not to have any family or friends who were injured by the attack. But I can’t help but wonder why they chose to attack the Boston Marathon - a seemingly innocuous and peaceful example of…well, a community. The marathon is just people coming together with a common goal who, were it not for this shared striving, might never even step foot on the same land. Although the merit of uncovering the motive of these two brothers may be up for debate, one thing is clear - community matters. More specifically, feeling a sense of belongingness matters.

Over the next few weeks, I’m going to think about the ways in which I participate in different communities. What do I contribute? How do I make them better? What efforts have I made, if any, to bring someone more distant into our community here at school? I encourage you to do the same, and I would love to hear what you think.

Let’s keep this conversation going.