Approximately six years ago, my husband, Rod Morgan, started The Morgan You Know podcast network. In August, he recorded his 100th episode of the flagship show, which, in actuality, is more like his 300th since his network has grown throughout the years to include several others, including the wrestling podcast, Yeah, We Know, and the sports entertainment podcast, Balls and Brew.
A couple of years into his foray as a podcast host, Rod also became a part-time radio personality for a local classic rock radio station and I started our website and this blog (exactly four years ago Friday, Nov. 18, 2018). To say we are unsuccessful in our side hustle endeavors would be an understatement; hardly anyone listens to or reads our work. Nevertheless, we persist, and continue exploring both our interests and our talents despite never making a dime. We do so, I believe, because we love it; we love watching one another practice what we feel we do best; and we love being able to connect with our valued contributors whose insights, ideas, and humor bring us joy.
It is in this side hustle where we have also created community, a subject that has become top of mind for me lately as I consider our collective time spent as human beings during the pandemic. In spite of restrictions, mandates, disease, heartache, and even death, Rod and I were still able to stay connected to our community of friends and guests because our side hustle has always depended upon their virtual availability and it always will. Our contributors are located throughout the country and it’s rare we see many of them in person to catch up let alone to record a podcast. So even though for the better part of two years it felt like the world was crumbling around us, we still had a way of communicating regularly with some of our favorite people, and we still had the infrastructure to keep our community intact.
Until recently, I never thought much about the importance of community. Colleagues who are reading this may find my lack of reflection on the topic quite comical, especially considering I literally write about community as a core tenant of our institutional mission on a regular basis, but the idea of community on a personal level has never seemed all that relevant. Perhaps it’s because my community has always existed – it’s just there. I have never gone a day in my life not feeling loved or supported. Not one. I have also never felt the need to seek out a new community of like minded individuals because even if I live or travel elsewhere, my core community is still with me wherever I go. This, I am now realizing, is quite uncommon. Unnatural even. It’s special, and it’s certainly something I don’t take for granted (especially now that I’m actually thinking about it for the first time).
Others, I know, are not so fortunate, and these individuals, without a community to call home, notably suffered during the pandemic. Some, thankfully, found productive and kind groups of individuals on social media with whom to connect (here’s looking at you Weird (and Wonderful) Secondhand Finds That Just Need to Be Shared and Deadhead Women+ United) while others, sadly, found less productive and even hate-filled groups with whom to share their frustrations. Take the whole of Twitter, for example, or supporters of Donald Trump. While both are arguably unproductive and inherently driven by anger, they still manage to bring scared, lonely, and compatible people together to form a community – one of which participated in an insurrection in our nation’s capital, which, goddamn, is certainly one way to feel connected to others on this place we call earth.
I know several people who have manifested part-time gigs like our podcast network and blog into full-time employment. They’ve hustled. They’ve endured. They’ve sacrificed. They’ve kept on keeping on. Many have also done so at the expense of their friends, family, marriages, and the community they once held so dear.
We’re fortunate in that our endeavors have only ever come at the expense of our own finances and, occasionally, at the expense of our former evening TV watching habits. I would argue, however, that instead of our passions pulling us further apart, they’ve actually brought us closer together and expanded our community into something I’ve always appreciated but never thought to value as much as I truly do now.
As the lyrics in the title track of this blog suggest, so many of us wonder, “Is there a place for the hopeless sinners?” and the answer is a resounding yes. Whether it’s on the death spiral that is Twitter, in a well-meaning Facebook group, through a local organization, or with existing friends you connect with virtually by way of a podcast network or gaming platform, your community is out there and it’s filled with good-hearted, hopeless sinners just like you.
So if you haven’t already, go find your community, and do it now before the next global pandemic forces us into lockdown and a charismatic yet moronic leader suggests yet another insurrection. And if you’re still having trouble finding your people, just know, at The Morgan You Know podcast network, we encourage EVERYONE to “get together and feel alright.”
