On a dark night long ago, I was driving up from Tahlequah when our old Mercury suddenly stopped running.

It happened just about at the highway’s fork with Wax Orchard Road. This was in the time before we all had cell phones. I don’t remember there being other cars, but before long one coming south down Wax Orchard pulled over and a woman about my age asked if I needed help — which I definitely did.

Marie (for that was her name) pulled her car around, and gave me a lift all the way back to Vashon Town. The details of the incident after that are lost in the mists of time, but it all worked out okay. Back then, I thought of Marie as an angel, but she was better than an angel in a way: She was an ordinary person acting in solidarity with a fellow human being in need. It was the kind of everyday miracle that creates a genuine human community. When our paths cross, I smile at her to this day.

Solidarity isn’t just something we need in order to deal with cataclysmic world events or cope with local emergencies — it’s something we create together every day in our homes, neighborhoods and community spaces. As the world feels uncertain, divided, and full of noise, it’s the small and steady gestures that add up: sharing a comforting meal with someone who’s had a rough week, offering rides or errands for those who need an extra hand, making music together, simply pausing to ask what’s really on a neighbor’s mind.

These moments matter. They knit us together, reminding us we’re not alone.

Building true solidarity means being intentional — choosing depth over habit, real conversations over superficial exchanges, taking the time to go the extra mile when it’s really going to make a difference for someone. It’s not about how many acquaintances we have, but whether our relationships feel safe, genuine and trustworthy. A friend who knows they can call at midnight, a neighbor who trusts you to water their garden or feed their pet, a family member who feels truly seen in all seasons of their lives—these are the threads that weave the fabric of our lives together.

Solidarity lives in everyday acts, it’s a kind of love in action: watching kids for a busy parent, dropping off soup when illness strikes, offering attic space or a couch for someone in transition and celebrating the milestones —big or small— together, really being present in one another’s lives. It grows through sharing, teaching, trading and collaborating, whether it’s backyard veggies, stories, skills, or hard-earned wisdom.

Solidarity thrives when we lift each other up, especially when it’s least expected.

The world so often encourages us to focus only on what’s ours, but every act of care expands our circle. We can choose collaboration over competition—finding ways for all of us to flourish. When someone reaches out, responds with kindness, or stands up for another’s dignity, it inspires the next act of care and meaning, creating a ripple through our community. Our generosity and empathy make mutual abundance real.

On Vashon-Maury Island, these everyday choices are our foundation.

Even when times get tough or headlines grim, each of us holds the power to reshape our shared life through attentive presence, simple support, and a spirit of generosity. In homes, markets, parks and beaches — at the many gathering places we love — everyday solidarity is how we thrive. By showing up for one another in honest, intentional ways, we build a community resilient enough to weather any storm — flourishing not just separately, but together.

The steady presence and support we offer each other gives life meaning and security. Ultimately, solidarity is about embracing the shared honor and responsibility of supporting each other’s being human, finding our ways through life together—making every day a little brighter, and our community a little stronger.

I’m happy to be here with you, in solidarity.

JC Graham is the president of the Vashon-Maury Community Council. Email JC at President.V-MCC.proton.me or find out more at v-mcc.org.