Trust the Potluck
building community trust
Potlucks are one of my favorite things.
big tables, food overflowing, oven heating up the goods, legs crossed, sitting on the ground, plate of food on my lap
trader joe dips, sparkling water, grandma’s recipe, slow smoked something, potato chips, quinoa salad, juice
open the window, it’s hot in here, place it on the altar of our shared table, look at what we did, look at this feast, feel this togetherness
I love the connection, I love eating, I love the ritual and surprise of it all.
Living alone, I mostly cook for myself. I know how to do this, but I have an internal barometer that is set to cook for more people. Growing up in a household of 6 with a mother who thrives cooking for 20+ people, cooking for one is bizarre. Often I make a big pot of something that I eat many times or freeze, though lately I’m out of practice. Cooking is a lot of work, and as much as I enjoy it, motivation can be really low when I’m working and running around town and then coming home with a hungry stomach of one.
Potlucks can portal me beyond individualism, beyond the nuclear, separate household. It’s a practice of shared domestic labor—let’s cook and clean together, and we’ll make it fun. Let’s join our households together, just for this meal. Sometimes, potlucks are strategic. It makes hosting more affordable. It shares the labor of planning a gathering or event.
A couple weeks ago, I organized a potluck for a community dear to me. As an organizer and gather-er of people, there’s always the last minute fear of what if no one comes? will there be enough food? should I have made another dish? I had limited time and stuck with store-bought hummus and pretzels. A past self would’ve judged, but I let myself take a path of ease. Presence is the most important contribution to the potluck.
I have enough potluck data from my own life to quiet these fears. Relax. Trust the Potluck. There is always something that surprises me, sometimes we have 4 carrot dishes, sometimes we order pizza, there’s almost always something chocolate. One way or the other it works out. And by work out, I mean no one walks away hungry, connection is made, and we learn something—a wild success in my book.
As an improviser this is very interesting to me. How can we show up to a space, not knowing exactly what will happen, and trust what we bring into it?
While living in California for a couple years, I was in a deep Potluck Practice. Each week, I found myself at Monday Night Dinner, a ritual sparked by my friend Sam. Sometimes we showed up and cooked together or brought our completed dishes. Over the course of two-ish years a core dedicated group tended to this ritual, and many others—friends, visitors, and dogs—filtered through from time to time.
We started with a reasonable line-up of themes: Italian, Thai, Mexican, childhood favorites, seasonal meals. It soon grew more obscure as creativity won and group trust deepened: food shaped like balls, green food, something you see on the other end (think beets, corn, etc ;)). The Potluck Score1 broke open towards lots of possibility.
It’s helpful to have a focus sometimes. A suggestion or restriction guides the group and hones in the infinite possibilities. Keep it vegetarian or to ingredients you have on hand. Get something local. Like a costume party: offer a theme, but let our own creativity and energy show up.
I’m learning how to offer gratitude and nourishment to places and people, freely, abundantly, reciprocally. I’m paying attention to how small rituals and practices ripple out into the world.
Keep a few clementines on hand with the intention of sharing with a friend. Granola bars in my car to give away or eat myself. Make sure something is in my belly, and from this place of enoughness, share.
peace,
emily
curiosities, inspiration + events:
Every Supper is a Last Supper from Potluck Zine - you know I found an article on nuns and shared meals!!
- 's essay on nuns, ritual, and sexuality
The Revolution with Not Be Psychologized - from The Emerald podcast by Joshua Schrei. this is a deeeeep dive and i feel liberated by it
- 's deep dive with Alexis Pauline Gumbs
If you’re in cleveland, check out our weekly Contact Improv Cleveland jams! And on March 25th, I’m co-facilitating an Introduction to Contact Improv Workshop at Abide Yoga. 🟠 🟠 🟠
In dance/movement improvisation, a Score is “a set of instructions that restrict/shape a movement improvisation” https://contactimprovblog.com/glossary/
Aww thank you so much for sharing Emily!! <3