Not community, not institutions, but some secret third thing.

Community + (Anti-Colonial + Structure + Buy In) = ?

I was at a zine fair in Toronto last weekend, slinging zines, prints, and stickers. (Huge shoutout to the Toronto Zine Library for hosting an amazing event.)

Despite the packed crowds and the herd-like energy, one patron stopped at my booth to ask me about a print.

They said they agreed with it but were struggling to find community. Then they asked how I felt about community building in our current climate. I paused and took a deep breath.

Less institutions. More community.

That line is from a post I wrote back in 2021. A lot has changed since then. Beyond all the political and socio-economic shifts, I’ve changed too. My experiences have shifted my perspective. Did I still believe that all institutions were harmful the way I once did?

On the spot, I admitted that my view had evolved. I told them that I believe there’s a difference between colonial institutions and community-based institutions. And I stand by that statement, but there’s so much more to this conversation than you can yell across a table full of zines in a crowded room.

Here are some definitions from the original post:

“Institutions are organizations or businesses that help shape or organize social, economic, and political relations. (North, 1991) Banks, libraries, schools; these are all institutions. They are organized by groups of people or individuals and adhere to a specific set of rules and policies to ensure the health and well-being of the institution. They are governed: policed, if you will. If you, as an individual, have needs that don't align with the institution, the expectation is that you need to adapt and not that the institution will change, although if enough members of the public complain about rules and policies of an institution, those rules or policies can be amended.

Communities are a set of relationships among people but also a feeling that we can observe when we participate in collective living with people with whom we trust and feel safe. Community is a sense of belonging. (Chavis and Lee, 2015) If you have needs as an individual, you can share your needs with the community with the intent of those needs being met. Communities inherently have room for fluidity baked into their nature.”

I’ve spent years trying to find community outside institutions, with varying degrees of success. I spent years desperately asking homeschool folks to connect — and eventually gave up. More recently, I’ve been hosting a monthly potluck with mixed results: some heartache, some reward. I call friends for coffee. I put up a little library near my home. I do my best to connect with people I care about, IRL and not just online. All of this feels like community building to me.

At the same time, I’ve worked hard to divest from institutions. I bank with a credit union. I shop at farmers markets. I prioritize active transportation. I participate in mutual aid when I can. I unschool my kids. When our family needed extra income, I held out for a job with a charitable organization that aligned with my values.

These choices are made very intentionally. They are some of the ways I try to reject mainstream, status-quo institutions — systems that often uphold oppression and supremacy. Are they effective? In some small ways, yes. But there’s always more work to do.

Still, there are other experiences I’ve had — ones that don’t quite fit into the neat “community vs. institution” binary.

Community gardens. Neighbourhood groups. Local food co-ops. Educational collectives. Forest schools.

These exist in a middle ground: part institutional structure, part community-building. They don’t fully land on either side of the fence.

And honestly? This is where I’ve seen the most meaningful, progressive change.

Because community without structure often lacks commitment. And top-down organizing can be too rigid. But somewhere in the middle is this sweet spot where people build something community-oriented and bottom-up, with just enough structure to give participants a sense of ownership.

Community-based institutions, maybe?

Can we make space for these types of institutions to lead? These are anti-colonial in structure, prioritize people over profit, and don’t operate with the same rigidity as capitalism-driven models. They’re fluid and responsive, often because the participants are the ones making the rules. They still have structure — some are registered non-profits, some pay staff, and some even operate with modest profit motives (though that profit is equitably distributed so everyone is fairly compensated for their labour).

Where I’ve seen community organizing falter — lack of buy-in, deprioritization of care, reluctance around unpaid labour — I’ve seen these middle-ground organizations thrive. Maybe it’s the clarity of intention that comes with a bit more structure. Maybe it’s the marketability — how social media and local networks help the right people find each other. Maybe it’s even the personal reward: that good feeling you get from contributing to something meaningful, something you can carry home after a day of volunteering or mutual aid.

Or maybe — just maybe — it’s the lack of ongoing commitment. A kind of single-serving feel-good action that doesn’t require the vulnerability and investment that true friendship does.

When I admitted at the zine fair that I don’t fully stand by my old statement, I quickly followed up with this: I still believe community is the key. That hasn’t changed. We need deeper connection and more sustained commitment than institutions — even the good ones — can provide. We need friends who show up not just for the community meal, but for the hard conversations, the emergency pickups, the long-haul care. We need affinity groups rooted in ongoing mutual aid. These middle-ground organizations can’t always provide that but they can be a powerful bridge.

I keep hearing this phrase lately: we need to come at this from all sides.

So yes — we need to build new institutions grounded in community care and free from profit motives. We need anti-capitalist co-ops and non-profits offering free meals. We need municipal community gardens. We need potlucks in our friends’ kitchens. We need it all.

And if you’re struggling to find community — as so many of us are — maybe try something a little more structured, like a co-op or non-profit. Just make sure they’re rooted in anti-colonial practices. It might just be the gateway toward something better.