Building a Stronger ‘We’: Lessons on Collaboration & Care
April 4, 2025
In March, our team gathered in North Andover, MA, for an in-person retreat – our first in five years. After half a decade of virtual collaboration and navigating global upheavals, coming together in person felt nothing short of revolutionary. And in the age of 47, with political uncertainty and social justice work more critical than ever, the timing could not have been more important.
For many, it was the first time meeting face-to-face. For others, it was a chance to deepen relationships with longtime colleagues and friends. And, because this room was mostly full of seasoned facilitators, you know we spent time reflecting on process, holding space, and (let’s be honest) probably overanalyzing the agendas. Over three days, we didn’t just talk about collaboration and love; we practiced them, in all their beautiful, messy, necessary forms. And perhaps to the surprise of no one, we reaffirmed that the strength of our work is rooted in the strength of our relationships.
A few takeaways from our time together:
Trust Grows in the Big and Small Moments We Share
Building a culture of trust is something that needs to be nurtured again and again through intentional actions and shared experiences. It’s not a bullet point on a strategic plan. Our retreat was designed to help us build trust in ways both big and small, and each activity played a role in strengthening our collective leadership.
Through laughter, tears, storytelling, sharing meals, nature walks, and so much more, we connected for the sake of connection. We engaged in Aikido, a martial art that teaches balance, fluidity, and responsiveness. Through movement, we explored what it means to be in a relationship with one another, practicing how to meet resistance without aggression and how to move in alignment rather than opposition. These lessons are central to how we navigate power, conflict, and change in our daily work.
To meaningfully close out our time together, we stood shoulder to shoulder in a circle and affirmed our commitment to one another as part of the journey ahead. We picked stones that drew us in, their colors and textures calling to us in various ways. Around the circle, each person had a chance to be heard and seen, and to drop our chosen stones into a jar filled to the brim with others. It was quiet, simple, and deeply powerful. We were reminded that while we each have a part, none of us can do this work alone.
Inclusion Is a Verb
Not everyone could physically be in the room, so we needed to ensure that our affiliates who joined virtually weren’t just passive observers but fully engaged participants. That meant:
- Projecting their incredible faces as large as we could into the room.
- Carrying a mic to each person speaking so remote participants could hear every voice clearly.
- Facetiming them into breakout groups so they could participate in real discussions rather than just listening in.
- Giving them key roles in in-person activities, including narrating performances and guiding discussions.
Hybrid spaces can easily feel exclusionary, but we worked to make everyone feel like they were part of the collective experience. A helpful reminder here: Inclusion isn’t just about who’s invited but how they are meaningfully included.
We also created “silent tables” during meals, so folks who didn’t feel like being social could have a space to just be. In a field that often prioritizes extroversion and constant engagement, this was a small but meaningful way to honor different needs.
Sometimes You Need to Dance Through the Hard Stuff
If you’ve attended our trainings before, you know it wouldn’t be an IISC space without joy. Yes, we had deep conversations. Yes, we held space for complexity. But there was also movement, play, and celebration. We shared poetry, sang, played board games, and even had a dance party. This work has always been challenging, and we know it will continue to be. And if we don’t make space for joy, movement, and real connection, we won’t last.
Why does this matter? Because social and racial justice work is long-haul work. Burnout and exhaustion are real, particularly for those historically marginalized, and our ability to sustain ourselves depends on how well we tend to joy, connection, and rest. This isn’t a distraction from the work; it literally is the work. A team that trusts one another and knows how to get through the hard stuff together is a team that can face what comes next with more clarity and strength.
Practice Makes…Better
IISC isn’t perfect. No organization is. We make mistakes, we hit rough patches, and we sometimes struggle to live up to our values. But what makes this work possible and what keeps us moving forward is our commitment to love and relationship.
As we return to our day-to-day work, we carry these lessons with us: the power of presence, the necessity of trust, and the radical act of making space for joy. After five years apart, this retreat was a reminder that our culture always needs tending to and that how we show up for one another while doing this important work really matters.
To everyone who made this gathering meaningful, thank you. May we continue to build a stronger ‘we’ and find ways to move forward.
