You need to stop being selfish. 

Our current culture perpetuates an unwavering devotion to stark independence. Rely on nobody but yourself. While this may lead to fruitful traits of ambition — something we should all strive for — there are consequences to strictly subscribing to this lifestyle. 

Chiefly among those consequences, individualism innately combats human nature’s longing for community. The tension that arises from a push for self-reliance and our propensity for unity is the root of the dilemma we find ourselves in today. 

This is evident as everyone wants a village, but nobody wants to be a villager. 

The timeless struggle of modern friendship, where all parties involved desire celebration and support, yet shrink from the responsibility of showing up consistently for others. We think, “Oh, why should I be the one to put in the effort?” 

Many feel we are too unique or too valuable to be thrown into this conglomeration we call community. This is a grave misunderstanding. 

Being part of a whole does not diminish one’s abilities nor does it negate one’s talents, but amplifies them through shared effort and care. A village doesn’t exist to dilute one’s identity, but to sustain it. 

A community is a collective group of people brought together through common interests, agendas or goals. These communities can be composed of your friends, family or truly any individual as a means of fostering belonging and social relationships. Communities are not limited by the confines of geography, but can be far reaching and expansive. 

While independence teaches us to exist sufficiently on our own, community teaches us an existence enriched by togetherness. To deny this is not strength, but rather a resistance to reality. 

It’s so easy to want to be the one who is held, comforted and consoled. What takes real strength is to be the one doing the holding, comforting and consolation. The only thing that separates those who want community from those who have it is action. 

All too often, we fall victim to some variation of the bystander effect — a psychological phenomena where people intervene based on someone acting first. It is the assumption that someone other than yourself will take action, therefore placing the responsibility of the act onto someone else. In the context of a village, this manifests itself as quiet inaction. 

This is the kind of cycle we must break. 

A village is a symbolic reference within this adage. While a vast majority of Americans no longer live in quaint, cobble-stoned communities where water must be fetched from a well, the modern notion of a village still stands: one which thrives on the continual contributions of each of its inhabitants and in which symbiotic relations are at the core of its daily operations. 

If I know about anything in this life, it’s friendship. I can say that with the utmost certainty. I’m partial to believing that my credentials are undeniable; my friend group turns 15 years old this year. These people are central to my identity and values, an aspect of my life I deem to be irreplaceable. 

After more than a decade, these friendships transcend into something far greater and worth  traveling across the universe to find — a feeling of belonging comparable to nothing else in this lifetime. These friends have become my family, we share a dynamic based in mutual love and devotion to one another. My words alone can do no justice to what my village means to me and my life. 

What sustains these friendships is not constant harmony or even a matter of compatibility, but commitment. The commitment to showing up repeatedly, being the one to make plans and keep them. Choosing one another even when it is inconvenient. Understanding that people that are worth fighting for often require persistent maintenance, and attention is the key to successful relationships.  

While my experience with friendship may be uncommon, my understanding of it is not. 

To foster community is to embrace discomfort. It is to place others interests before yours, to find meaning in things that do not immediately serve you and to contribute substantially without the expectation of recognition or repayment. It is the willingness to put in work, be dependable and present.

Yes, we all live busy lives, but now more than ever, we need one another. We are living in unprecedented times, times overflowing with uncertainty of what’s to lie ahead. Today, it is incredibly easy to fall into deep holes of hopelessness and despair, but our villages are there to pull us out. To make it through, we must learn to love unashamedly and rely on one another. 

Undoubtedly, I urge everyone, particularly my peers, to be the ones to take action. Take that first step, be the one who initiates that check-in, and extend that invitation. So much is to be gained when we begin to allow ourselves the freedom to partake in communion. There exists an intimate compassion that is the byproduct of fostering connection. 

Sacrifice is the cornerstone of any village. In its absence, we will surely remain nothing more than self-serving individuals. Community would remain as nothing but a foreign notion in the absence of effort. 

Paulina da Silva is a junior writing about cuisine, culture and community in her column, “Pauli’s Slice,” which runs every other Wednesday.