The value of leaky community boundaries

I see the world as a set of overlapping communities with leaky boundaries. The physical communities in which I reside (neighborhood, city). Professional and personal communities that are anchored in the workplace (Northwestern University is one for me) or through shared activities (like working out at the local YMCA).

Everyone has their own unique set of overlapping communities. This past Saturday, I went to the indoor Farmer's Market run by a local church whose pastor I know from the YMCA. Our community configurations are very different. But we overlap in those configurations.

And that's a grand thing. Because those configurations have leaky boundaries, which allows folks and their knowledge and experiences to move freely. That's where the spark for learning ignites.

Some may say that I am really talking about networks here. That is partly true. All communities are networks, but not all networks are communities. Communities generate something more than simple network connections. That more is based on shared experience and identity, feeling belonging as a legitimate part of some larger thing that has purpose.

"I live in South Evanston." (Which is not, uh, north Evanston. If you know, you know)

"I'm a frequent flyer at the McGaw Y."

"I am a pastor."

Let me backtrack a bit and share how this view came to be for me.

Over the course of my 18-year career tour at Northwestern University I came to think of myself as an educator and designer. Those two identities frame how I think as a professional.

It didn't start out that way. When I began my role teaching in the Master's Program in Learning and Organizational Change (MSLOC) I had no experience teaching. Or designing courses. And I had a non-traditional entry  - I don't have a Phd - into the higher education world. I was a 51-year-old newbie.

I had experience and expertise is some domains that were key starting points in that teaching and designing journey. But I by no means felt like I could claim being an educator or designer.

I had to learn to be. I may not have known that in a very explicit sense at the moment I began my work at MSLOC. But as I reflect now, that's what was going on. I needed to learn the technical elements of pedagogy and learning design while at the same time navigating the social aspects of becoming accepted as a legitimate member of the profession.

Fast forward to today. I have a clear philosophy, principles and set of practices that all emerged from doing the work and engaging with other educators and designers. I am confident I could sit down with anyone who's taught in a higher education setting and find shared ground to cover in conversation. I'm also aware of what I don't know.

Which gets me to the value of leaky community boundaries.

I got to that point in my career where I was comfortable using "educator" and "designer" as professional identities by recognizing and paying attention to the communities I brought with me and the new communities I needed to engage with. I came to Northwestern with experience and roots in technology and learning in corporate settings. I took that experience as a way to enter into the community of educational technologists working in higher ed. That led me to communities thinking deeply about technology and pedagogy, and then to design communities.

I certainly learned a lot.

But over time, I saw that greater value came at moments when the leaky boundaries among my professional communities - pedagogy, design, technology and the business world - forced me to question my thinking or assumptions and to initiate an inquiry. A spark ignited learning. What would my critical pedagogy community say about approaches to learning in the business world? Why are "learning" technologies so different in higher education and corporate settings - when the supposed outcome is so similar?

Working those leaky boundaries for learning literally became the basis for a long list of design experiments in my work teaching at Northwestern. It started with developing a sense of community among learners. Then encouraging those learners to also recognize, and engage, the communities of which they are a part, in their learning efforts. Technology helped a lot in finding the leaky boundaries.

Outside of formal educational settings, I have been involved in and helped contribute to a wide range of online professional communities (communities of practice). When these communities are successful, they operate with the same leakiness. I am a current member of one community of about 200 members from around the world. The leaders of this community do a marvelous job of fostering a sense of belonging and sharing knowledge about current hybrid/remote work issues. There are academics, consultants, internal practitioners and folks working in a large variety of industries. Each - outside of this online space - is a individual node connected to many other communities.

As an educator and designer, I now see the world as made up of these communities with leaky boundaries. The point of this view is to see where the learning happens. The key mechanism is the leaky boundaries.

And now I am wondering how this shakes out in a different context - the work being done in the layered, overlapping communities within the physical setting of Evanston to create a safe, sustainable and joyful existence for those who live and work here.

Note: The photographs which accompany these posts are taken by me, and show different settings and views of Evanston (where I live). It is a visual reminder that this is the most important setting for belonging and contributing to community; my neighborhood, my city.