I found a link to this by chance, and it reminded me of Solitaire.
The article doesn’t cover all that much ground, but the description of “urban tribes” as “loose networks of close friends, or tribes, [that] sustain each other emotionally and professionally for the years in between college and marriage” resonates with the connections Jackal has on Ko.
Although the people to whom the label is attributed tend to respond with “Fuck you, I’m not in a tribe.”
“Web” sounds so much better.
Ide Cyan
I’ve read elsewhere about this book, and find the notion interesting and familiar. When I was in high school and college, and imagined an adult life in the wider world, I saw myself in what might now be called an urban tribe. I thought of them as “my people” – friends, lovers, older or younger, people who would help me move a hundred boxes on a Sunday, watch bad movies, make interesting food, understand how plumbing worked. People who would find me equally valuable. In some ways, Jackal’s web does this, but it’s heavily influenced by the corporate culture of Ko, where the emphasis is on the “greater goal” of business. The web is a community, but it’s an artificial construct based on age, and it’s in service to the good of Ko. There are people in America who think this latter quality is a good idea for us, too, so maybe it isn’t science fiction after all.
If you’re interested, there’s a “virtual tour” planned for this book, the brainchild of Kevin Smokler. I love this idea (here’s an article about it), and will be interested to see how it plays out. But I don’t love that he says “no genre fiction” in the guidelines (edited in 2008 to add: that link is no longer in service, so you’ll have to take my word for it). I infer he means “no crap fiction” and that he assumes “genre” and “crap” are synonymous terms. It’s too bad, and too easy. See my previous post for more ranting on this subject (grin).
Edited in 2008 to add: Kevin read this post and contacted me, and we had a good email chat about good fiction. A couple of years later, he invited me and Nicola to write this essay for his anthology Bookmark Now. Thanks again, Kevin!
I’m taking a break from my all-nighter, so I hope this makes sense in spite of my sleep-deprived mind.
I like the word ‘tribe,’ Spanish tribu, Latin tribus. It means “to be three,” which I guess also means “to be many.” I probably also like tribes because aboriginal blood is still pretty thick in my veins. I’m only one generation removed from growing up in an indigenous community most would call tribal.
When I lived in Mexico, I had a tribe sort of network. I basically lived, ate, played, slept, etc. with my four best friends. Then I moved to Canada and replicated that pattern of existence. But I found little time to do anything besides tribing. And Esmeralda is a heavily-armed fortress when it comes to letting people in. Now, I spend most of my days at home, away from friends.
I still need to be sociable on a regular basis, though. I love hugging and kissing and hearing people’s stories. So I allow myself little bursts of tribalness. I have my Monday fiction tribe: we eat yummy snacks and tell each other stories. I have my Tuesday poetry tribe: we go for drinks after class and talk about sex and relationships and writing and jobs and Vancouver—we’re all foreigners. I have my Wednesday translation tribe: we translate, drink tea and eat carrot bread. I have my Teach Me To Be You tribe, also on Wednesdays: it’s a bit complicated. I have my Thursday screenplay tribe: we talk girlfriends and road trips and genre fiction and take long bus rides and sometimes go for Thai dinner. I have my Web Tribe: you and Nicola and Jennifer and La Bibi and Lluvia and Panda and Luis Ricardo and so on: we cybercoffee-break and exchange ideas and virtual hugs on an almost-daily basis.
For now, this multi-tribal system works. I don’t think I could do the 24/7 thing I had going a few years ago and still have time left for Esmeralda and writing and school and work and stuff. Just thinking about it makes me even more tired than I am right now.
“My people” is also what I call my friends. I wouldn’t be much use to you with the plumbing part, though. And most bad movies seem okay to me, so I don’t know if that counts. But I would certainly catch a bus to Seattle to help you move a hundred boxes on a Sunday or show you how to make pozole.
Although I am a very solitary person, it turns out that I also need connection with tribes, although in a different way from what I had imagined. Most of my time is spent at home, working, with Nicola, and then hanging with friends on intervals that I wish were more frequent.
It’s hard. I love the life I have with Nicola, I love being able to work at home, I love the peace and the focus of it. But it doesn’t satisfy all my needs. I don’t want a frenetic life, I don’t want to be out of my house every night, but I wish that I had more balance between self and the kind of close-knit tribe I talked about in the post.
Most of my “tribe” experience these past years comes in focused and particular contexts. For example, when I was in my ASL program, we were a kind of tribe while we were in class and at events together, but I never socialized with them outside that context. Wasn’t interested. I was very happy with the particular connection we had, and didn’t want to expand outside it. When the program ended, so did the connection (with a couple of wonderful exceptions — waving at my dear friend Pam. Although Pam was a teacher, not a student, and that’s a different relationship, and I’m always attracted to expertise, and to people that I think can teach me something).
Anyway, I couldn’t do as many tribes as you do! But it seems like we share the “focused-bonding” impulse. The people that I actually become friends with, that’s a much deeper and wider bond, and has more to do with the person than the context in which we first connect.
These days I tend to separate “my tribe” and “my people.” My people are the close ones. But my tribes are important too — they are places where I get to express parts of myself that don’t always find outlets elsewhere.
I just realized this Friday that I have to de-tribe myself a bit. I have too many! And not enough time for myself. I’m starting to get really stressed out over work piling up. But it’s so hard to say no to a connection that is flowing and nurturing. I wish I didn’t pick them up all over, though.
Today, for example, I met up with a couple of my colleagues for an informal weekend workshop. I arrived at the coffee shop thirty minutes early because getting tables there is quite the achievement. While I was waiting, a cool woman started talking to me and she invited me over to her place and now I have her contact info and she has mine and we had a great conversation and we could be really good friends and… I just got home and realized I don’t have time for more people. *sigh*
Focused-bonding. That’s totally it. I don’t stay in touch with people from high school or college, either. Or previous jobs. The one person I met in high school I still talk to and visit on a regular basis is my friend Carolina, who was my Creative Writing teacher back then. Expertise is super sexy, eh? I dig it. I’m sure I’ll stay in touch with Rhea when I’m done with UBC, too. And a few other people, but not many.
I also distinguish between “my tribe” and “my people.” My people are those on the “If I Ever Win The Jackpot I’m Splitting it With…” list.