As 2024 draws to a close, I can't help but think about the American picnic. Not just the literal gathering of friends and family on a sunny afternoon, but the metaphorical picnic that represents the very essence of American civic life. It's a powerful symbol of coming together, sharing experiences, and building the bonds that form the foundation of a strong society. Yet, as I look around, I can't shake the feeling that this quintessential American experience is fading from our collective memory.
In Los Angeles, the city of dreams and influencers, I witnessed the epitome of this transformation. Here, community involvement has often become just another avenue for personal branding. Charitable events and volunteer work frequently serve as backdrops for carefully curated social media posts. Participants seem more concerned with capturing the perfect "giving back" selfie than with the actual impact of their actions. This behavior isn't limited to one-off volunteers; even those in leadership positions often appear more interested in the status their roles provide than in leveraging their influence for meaningful change.
This trend, however, didn't start in LA. My first encounter with this phenomenon was over a decade ago in the Dallas Rotary Club. As a young, idealistic member, I joined with visions of making a real difference in my community. Instead, I found an environment where the appearance of doing good often overshadowed actual service. Many members, particularly from older generations, seemed content with surface-level engagement - attending meetings, wearing pins, and being seen at events. The disconnect between this performative participation and the evolving needs of the community was stark.
This focus on personal gain and individualism isn't just a personal observation. Scholars like Robert Putnam, in his seminal work "Bowling Alone," have meticulously documented the decline in American civic engagement over the past few decades. From decreased participation in civic organizations to reduced volunteerism, the data paints a clear picture of a society becoming increasingly disconnected.
But why is this happening? It's tempting to point fingers at technology, longer work hours, or changing family structures. While these factors undoubtedly play a role, I believe the root cause runs deeper. We've collectively bought into a narrative that prioritizes individual success over community well-being, that values personal achievement over shared prosperity.
Nowhere is this shift more evident than in the transformation of our religious institutions. Once pillars of civic life, many churches have undergone a radical change in their approach. To stay relevant and attract younger congregants, some have adopted what my mom calls the "Rock & Roll Church" model.
Gone are the days of somber hymns and quiet reflection. Instead, we're seeing a trend towards high-energy performances, complete with rock bands, light shows, and charismatic preachers who could easily be mistaken for motivational speakers. It's as if these churches are trying to recreate the electric atmosphere of a Taylor Swift concert, swapping out lyrics about ex-boyfriends for mentions of Jesus.
This approach strips away the core elements that once made religious institutions central to community life. The emphasis on community service, being part of something bigger than oneself, and grappling with life's profound questions has been replaced by a focus on entertainment and feel-good messaging. It's Christianity-lite, designed for easy consumption but lacking in nutritional value for the soul or the community.
Consider the irony: In their quest to appeal to a generation raised on pop culture, these churches have inadvertently mimicked the very forces that contribute to social isolation. Just as we passively consume media, many now 'consume' religion, expecting to be entertained rather than challenged or inspired to action.
This transformation reflects a broader societal shift away from commitment and sacrifice towards instant gratification and personal fulfillment. But in doing so, we've lost something crucial. The sense of belonging, the call to serve others, the wrestling with difficult moral and philosophical questions – these were the elements that truly brought communities together and fostered civic engagement.
By turning worship into a spectacle, we've created spiritual echo chambers where people can feel good without being called to do good. It's a microcosm of our larger societal issue: the prioritization of individual experience over collective responsibility.
The decline in civic engagement isn't limited to religious institutions. It's pervasive, touching nearly every aspect of our communal life. Take sports clubs, for instance. Once bastions of community spirit, many have undergone a subtle but significant transformation. Historically, these clubs placed an emphasis on winning, sure, but the real draw was the social aspect – the camaraderie, the shared experiences, the sense of belonging to something larger than oneself.
Today, the picture is markedly different. In many sports clubs, the focus has narrowed to an almost singular pursuit of victory or personal glory. It's as if members are there to relive their high school or college athletic peaks, rather than to forge new connections and strengthen community bonds. The social element, once central, has been relegated to the sidelines.
Interestingly, this shift is less pronounced in sports that don't have a strong collegiate tradition. Activities like bowling or kickball still retain more of that social, community-oriented spirit. It's in the more competitive, traditionally "serious" sports like basketball or soccer where we see this individualistic, win-at-all-costs mentality taking hold.
This shift mirrors a broader cultural trend that increasingly resembles certain Eastern societies, where success is measured not by one's contribution to the community, but by one's ability to amass personal wealth. I recall an online discussion where people wondered why America couldn't maintain generational wealth like some Venetian or Florentine families have since the 13th or 14th centuries. This perspective fails to recognize that such concentrated, static wealth often correlates with economic stagnation – Italy's economic struggles being a case in point.
America's dynamism – its ebb and flow of opportunity, its resistance to entrenched systems of patronage – is precisely what has driven its success. As soon as we attempt to recreate an old-school feudal system, blocking out newcomers and concentrating wealth in a few hands, we risk the entire system breaking down.
Moreover, there's a dangerous misconception that America's strength comes from being a random assortment of ideas and cultures thrown together. This ignores the fact that America's core principles are rooted in Judeo-Christian Western ideals. It's not about artificially engineering a society based on cram schools and math problems. While America should always be welcoming, we must also recognize and preserve what has historically worked, rather than replacing it with systems that have demonstrably failed elsewhere.
This is the kind of engagement I envision when I think of the modern American picnic. It's not just about sharing food (though that's certainly part of it). It's about creating spaces where we can come together to nurture our physical health through group activities, enrich our minds through cultural experiences, improve our communities through volunteer work, and support each other's professional growth.
My vision of a modern America doesn’t aim to recreate the or mimic the shallow engagement of a rock concert. My vision for America combines the best of traditional community values with the opportunities of the modern world. Yes, technology has changed how we interact, but it doesn't have to be a barrier to meaningful connection. In fact, when used thoughtfully, it can be a powerful tool for community building, helping us organize, communicate, and expand our reach.
Rebuilding genuine community isn't about ticking boxes on a civic engagement checklist. It's about infusing our actions with intentionality and a hunger for real connection. A neighborhood potluck becomes transformative when we approach it as an opportunity to truly know our neighbors, not just share a meal. Joining a sports league or book club should be driven by a desire for authentic relationships, not mere entertainment or self-promotion.
The failure of platforms like Meetup serves as a cautionary tale. They provided gatherings but lacked the intentionality needed for deep community building. We must move beyond these transactional, siloed interactions.
This approach isn't easy. It requires us to be open, authentic, and invested in others' lives. But it's through these intentional, meaningful interactions that we can weave a stronger social fabric. Each genuine exchange becomes a vital thread in the rich tapestry of community life, slowly but surely rebuilding the connections we've lost.
As we stand at this crossroads, the choice is ours. We can continue down the path of increasing isolation and civic disengagement, or we can choose to come together, to rebuild our communities, and to rekindle the spirit of connection that has always been at the heart of the American experience.
So, I ask you: Will you join me at the next American picnic? The table is set, the conversation is waiting, and the future of our communities hangs in the balance.
Let's break bread together, share our stories, and start building the connected, resilient, and vibrant society we all deserve – one that values substance over spectacle, engagement over entertainment, and community over consumerism.