what if 'belonging' is a verb?

here’s a screenshot taken from a talk by one of the the authors of belonging without othering—john a. powell.

in a nutshell, this graphic depicts three different paradigms of participation in a group:

• exclusion: you are not welcome.
• inclusion: you’re invited in, but it’s still someone else’s thing.
• belonging: this is our space; we co-create it together; you are not merely a guest.

this framing struck a chord in me. i think it helps articulate what it means to build truly co-created communities – ones where power is distributed, not just extended as an invitation to participate in a structure already set by someone else.

seeing these as a kind of spectrum or series of 'stages' can be useful as a measure to see where communities in our lives are at.

🚪exclusion: sorry, this club is full

exclusion is perhaps the most obvious stage and, unfortunately, the most common stage for many communities to be in.

the book describes it through the lens of othering – our deep-seated tendency to cast certain people and groups as fundamentally separate or irreconcilable. it’s the line drawn between “us” and “them,” whether explicitly or through structural barriers. i think this might just be the single most pernicious tendency we have as a species.

that said, not all forms of exclusion are inherently bad. in community spaces, a level of gatekeeping can be necessary to maintain safety and integrity. Priya Parker, in The Art of Gathering, talks about this as ‘generous exclusion’—the idea that in order to create spaces where people can be fully themselves, there need to be boundaries.

generous exclusion is the intentional drawing of a temporary line for the good of the guests and to help activate and fulfil a gathering's purpose. sometimes this means setting a clear code of entry, ensuring alignment in values, or even removing people who violate core community agreements.

a trauma-informed support group may not be open to just anyone. a queer gathering might prioritize queer voices rather than inviting those who simply “want to learn.” these boundaries aren’t always reinforcing othering, but protecting the conditions under which real belonging can emerge.

but in the vast majority of cases, exclusion is not a great default. if the goal is to cultivate functionally diverse communities – spaces where difference is generative rather than divisive – exclusion as a paradigm doesn’t get us very far.

🎟 inclusion: you can sit with us… kinda

a lot of communities plateau at this level. it’s well-intentioned but ultimately limited. inclusion tends to be unidirectional: come on board, but play by our rules.

this reminds me of how marginalized communities are often “included” in conversations or systems at a surface level, yet that inclusion doesn’t translate into real power or agency. it’s a seat at the table, but not a hand in setting the menu.

Tyson Yunkaporta captures this dynamic in Sand Talk, describing how indigenous knowledge is often treated as an artifact rather than a living system:

"the authenticity of indigenous knowledge and identity is determined by an illusion of parochial isolation, another fragment of primitive exotica to examine, tag, and display. ... our knowledge is only valued if it is fossilized, while our evolving customs and thought patterns are viewed with distaste and skepticism." (p.12)

in other words, indigenous ways of knowing are sometimes “included” in dialogues—acknowledged, studied, maybe even praised—but they are not invited in as forces that could fundamentally reshape how we think, act, or organize. they remain resources to be extracted rather than processes to be engaged with. "show me where some native plants are so i can synthesize a compound and make drugs out of it!"

this kind of hollow inclusion is everywhere. it creates the illusion of participation while maintaining the status quo. people are let in the door but kept at a safe distance from any real agency within the community.

true belonging requires more earnest consideration.

🏡 belonging: our house, our rules (that we make together)

the framing in belonging without othering excites me about designing for belonging. it behooves the questions: what does true co-creation in community look like? how can we shape our communal structures together, building something living and evolving?

in a decentralized or co-created space, at the core this means leaning into distributing decision-making: allowing different voices to shape the direction, and embracing the tension that comes with it.

and that tension is real. from the organizer side, there’s always a trade-off. when more people are truly included, things can move slower. the original vision might shift. consensus (or consent, depending on your governance paradigm) takes work. but that’s the price of something truly shared.

more and more, i’m thinking of belonging as a verb—not a static state, nor a destination you arrive at, but an active, ongoing process.

if othering is the act of separating, then belonging is the act of weaving. it’s something we do.

so what would it mean to 'belong others together'? this is one of my open questions right now, and i don't have comprehensive answers. but i've started keeping a list of actions within community i think count as engaging in belonging as a verb. here are some of them:

• introduce people to each other with context - help them find common ground (ayo, that's the name of this newsletter!)
• make space for celebrating peoples' differences and quirks. the aim should never be to make members feel a need to fit in. as Brené Brown has noted, “fitting in is the opposite of belonging.”
• ask new members what they want from the space, as well as what they can offer. contribution engenders a sense of attachment to the group.
• rotate leadership roles so no single person holds all the power. this involves seeing leadership as hospitality.
• co-create community agreements instead of enforcing top-down rules.
• check in on people who’ve been absent, not to guilt them, but to let them know they’re missed.
• make decision-making processes transparent and open to input.
• invite people to help shape gatherings, not just attend them.
• celebrate contributions, no matter how small. acknowledge effort, not just outcomes.
• design group rituals that reinforce connection and shared identity.
• encourage individual and collective storytelling – let people share their experiences and be heard.
• make space for disagreement and repair. belonging isn’t about never clashing, but about staying in the conversation together and managing conflict.

this list is nonexhaustive! i'd love to hear your thoughts on how we can belong-ourselves-together in group contexts.

that's it for this week,

C ❣️