Through the years I’ve been fortunate to be a part of intellectual communities and spaces where I have been safe to share my thoughts and ideas freely. I’ve had experienced intellectual mentors who have taught me what this safety was with them, and then, with others. I’m always learning about the importance of having understanding and agreement around clear, shared goals. It’s hard to explain what happens in a space where everyone benefits from the ideas of everyone else over an extended period – where there is no hesitation to share and to give where and when you can, keeping the goal(s) at the centre while also experiencing that magical way in which your own ideas come back to you clearer and stronger with the support of these people who are creating and thinking and feeling with you. When the focus is on a goal, interpersonal conflict and misunderstanding can be worked out – and so these are spaces, too, where people can sometimes disagree, express strong emotion, anger or hurt, hold themselves and one another accountable to the standards and values that give a common goal integrity, make mistakes, forgive and be forgiven. These are essential transitional moments in which we hold and share in one another’s growth – they might not be perfect or always pleasant moments, but they are also never forbidden, and they are important parts of processing our experiences and of practicing our humanity with others.

And I have learned that it’s natural and maybe even important for these communities to end. If we understand common goals as being what bring us together, then we understand, too, that not all of our goals will be shared by every individual with whom we work. The best ends, then, are the ones that come after goals have been met or, maybe just as commonly, failures have been realized, when our focus naturally shifts away from the goal that once brought us into intellectual community with one another, and when we leave the table knowing, on at least some level, and even if there is strong emotion involved in the transiton, that we could return in a future season to build and create and think together again. The worst ends leave us, even months or years later, with regret, grief, or bitterness – these involve manipulation or betrayal or interference. I’ve come to understand and appreciate some of this, as I think many of us have, against the backdrop of how utterly pointless and hollow academic work feels when there is no agreement, when you can’t share or create or build with others, when your instincts tell you not to trust or not to give or that maybe you’ve already shared too much and so now you or someone you love might be used or hurt, when, upon reflection, you can’t point to or articulate specific common values, when all you have are the empty buzzwords or maybe just your own words repeated back to you. This is where the language of “community,” of “ethics,” of “accountability,” of “good relationships” is co-opted, neutralized, and used as a tool to get people (often students) to give much more than what is safe for them. This is when academia, as a system, becomes somehow worse and even more sinister than a matter of warm bodies holding jobs and spaces against transformation, and all you can do is step back, work on forgiving and trusting yourself, nurture those connections that help you learn and think and grow, keep doing your work and remember that sense of purpose that you’ve built and learned and earned over time – because that’s yours. And so maybe you build a wall around your work and your family for a time and you keep your head down, you stay focused, stay focused, you stay true to your values and remember your goals. But it’s still hard, and it’s still sad, because we only have one life, each of us, and we could do so much more.