What does community mean to you?

Community is something that isn’t really fixed – it’s something we co-create together. For me, it’s a place I long to have, where I can show up as fully as myself as possible and connect with people over something shared. That shared thing can be many different things: a sense of identity, values, a common goal or vision, exchanging knowledge, sharing meals. But I think what’s also important about community is the wish to stay even when it gets hard — when challenges come up and we’re in process, because we’re all flawed human beings, and we don’t just throw it away. There’s room for conflict, room for growth, and room for collaboration. That’s what community means to me.

How do you find your community?

I’ve always found community when there’s a part of my life where I feel I want to connect more – where there’s something I want to spend time thinking about, connecting over, or growing into. In the past that’s been around being a transmasculine person and longing for a space where I can be seen as my full queer self, where others share the same struggles. But I also find community through shared interests – like the foraging community in Berlin, people who are really into mushrooms and nature. I think it’s a lot about shared interests and a kind of magnetic draw. And it gets easier over the years.

How do you celebrate yourself and your community?

For me, celebrating myself means showing up as my full self – even when that means not being at my best, or struggling with something, or not feeling able to perform happiness. Trusting that that doesn’t mean I don’t belong anymore. That’s one way of honouring myself. But also: dancing with others, expressing myself on the dance floor or wherever there’s music and people I love. Sharing a meal and cooking – that’s my way of expressing love, not only for myself but for my community. And creating spaces – workshops where people can connect over a shared love for nature, foraging walks, theatre, anything where we can be playful together. I think being silly and playful is always an important part of celebration.

What do you think makes this project unique?

What makes it unique for me is the way that, over so many years, the project has managed to keep welcoming newcomers while maintaining a sense of shared values and ritual. There’s always people coming for the first time alongside people who’ve been part of it for a long time, and it always feels balanced – bringing new people in without losing what holds the community together. There’s also a real warmth in the space, and a history of wanting to create something different from the spaces we previously had access to in the community – spaces that were more centred around partying or substance use. To have more intentional spaces where we can connect in meaningful ways: that’s what’s really special, and it’s still needed. I’m genuinely grateful for the effort that always goes into making that possible.

Can you share a moment at we are village or Stretch that felt meaningful or stayed with you?

What comes up for me is a dance workshop we did where we worked on a small choreography inspired by Pina Bausch, to a very somber, mellow, beautiful song. It was this slow, tender walk – really vulnerable and really safe. At some point we also dressed up, got flamboyant and queer, gave ourselves room to play and explore. And then, as a group, there was this impulse to share it – to take it outside. The question became: do we go out onto the street? And in that moment, it became so palpable – the contrast between the safety we’d created inside and everything that exists out in the world. We decided to do it in the courtyard instead. And still, there were people looking in, not knowing what was happening – suddenly encountering this big group of queers doing this beautiful dance together. For me, that moment was really special because we still dared to go out, and we still took care of each other – not exposing ourselves more than felt right. It felt like a perfect balance of courage and tenderness.