I Was Tired of Divisions in Society, so I Set Up My Own Community Group

We all have the power to make a change

Image: Getty Images on Unsplash

In 2024, riots broke out across the UK following the murder of 3 girls in Southport. False information rapidly spread, implying the perpetrator was an asylum seeker and a Muslim. Mosques and hotels believed to house asylum seekers were targeted, along with businesses believed to be run by migrants. Over 1000 people were charged with crimes associated with the riots, with courts fast-tracking cases.

The images on the news of violent thugs trying to force their way into hotels and even set fire to them, of mosques being targeted and people threatened, shocked me. Anti-racism organisations easily outnumbered the far right in organised protests that followed, but it felt like it wasn’t enough.

I felt angry and helpless. If politicians and the media had allowed anti-migrant sentiment to fester unchecked for years without challenge, then what could someone like me do about it?

The thought simmered in my brain for a while. Maybe my small actions could make a difference. I started to brainstorm. Perhaps there was a way I could at least try to connect people within my local community.

I remembered vaguely hearing about the work of the Jo Cox Foundation, named after the MP who was murdered in 2016 as a result of her beliefs. In her maiden speech in parliament, she said, “We are far more united and have more in common than that which divides us.” Following her death, her friends and family set up a charity in her name, and the More in Common network was born.

The idea of a community group came to mind. We could have a different theme for each meeting: food, community, celebrations, etc. and people from different cultures and backgrounds and with different experiences could get together and talk, and hopefully find that we had more in common. I had visions of Muslims, Jews, Christians, black, white and brown people, LGBTQ+ people, old and young, people born and bred in my town, and those who had ended up here (myself included), people together, talking about what we share, not what divides us.

Impulsively, and late at night (when many of my best or worst ideas come to fruition), I emailed the charity. Explaining that I had this silly idea to set up a group and asking for guidance, I clicked send. I instantly regret it.

A couple of weeks later, I got a response and set up a meeting. Feeling a bit daft, I explained my idea. Turns out there was a whole network of people doing similar things across the UK.

I had questions… What if someone falls over and sues me? How do I pay for it? (Nobody offers free room hire these days.) Is any support available? How do I get this thing up and running? The person at the charity talked me through everything. I signed a few forms, and a few weeks later, I was part of a network of like-minded people, and we even had a logo for my group.

Setting up the first meeting, I worried I was wasting my time. I could be just preaching to the converted, those who were already focused on inclusion and cohesive communities. On the other hand, these people could become activists and advocates within their community. Together, maybe we could change things for the better.

Founding and setting up my local More in Common alone was harder than I thought. With no funding to get started, I ploughed my own money into printing flyers and posters and begged my employer to use their office space for meetings. I had help with a few tasks, but mostly, I was on my own. I designed a basic website, bought a domain, set up a booking page, conducted a risk assessment, distributed flyers in my local area, posted the first event to local WhatsApp groups and guilt-tripped a couple of friends into coming along. I knew getting the word out would be slow, but if one person showed up, I’d be happy.

Oh, and I bought lots of tea and snacks. If nothing else, the snacks might draw people in.

The meeting started at 6 pm. At 5 pm, I set up the reception area with chairs and a flipchart. At 5:45 pm, I sat nervously, waiting. At 6 pm, two of my friends arrived. After offering drinks and snacks, I started the introductions — explaining why I was doing this and what would happen at each session.

At 6:15 pm, someone came stumbling through the door while trying to find somewhere to store their bike. He’d seen the event posted on a local anti-racism group and decided to come along. He wasn’t a friend, and there was no blackmail involved. He saw the event posting and wanted to come along. I cried.

Over the next hour, we agreed on some ground rules for the group and shared our thoughts around the theme of “community”. I hadn’t really planned anything, but started scribbling thoughts on post-it notes based on the three participants' (and my) contributions on the theme. At the end, I organised them on a flipchart and tried to draw out how they connected to each other, like a low-tech thematic analysis.

My More in Common group was born, and it started with one person showing up.

I can’t say it’s been easy. After moving venues and struggling to publicise the group, attendance hasn’t been great, except for two of the original three. However, at the last bi-monthly meeting, someone else showed up. It was all thanks to a vigilante flyer distributor posting through her letterbox! I hoped that once the group got started, word of mouth would spread. It is, albeit slowly, slowly.

The group was always meant to grow into more than just a discussion group. When the charity offered a micro-fund, I snapped it up, helping to pay for a venue for the next four sessions and a guest facilitator.

My friend and former colleague runs poetry workshops to bring people together and help them express what matters to them through creativity. I’d been to several of his workshops and found them cathartic, leaving me feeling that I had shared something special with every participant. I did some bartering on price, and More in Common’s first poetry workshop is now booked for June, which is also the month of the Great Get Together, when we celebrate the life and legacy of Jo Cox.

I found myself crying with joy (again) when I got a random WhatsApp message from someone in a nearby town. It seems I’d inspired her to set up her own More in Common group. I sense a collab sometime in the future.

Setting up More in Common in my town has been hard. I started out naively and made mistakes along the way. I didn’t do enough to publicise it in the early days. I’ve kept going when I’ve had burnout from other things and pushed myself too hard sometimes. Is it worth it? Probably. It’s still early days, but the heart is there.

The media and mainstream politics can make us feel helpless — like we can’t change anything. But we can change something. Change happens on the streets, at home, or over cups of tea in a function room. The simple act of bringing people together can strengthen communities and help people to understand one another.

So, if you’re reading this and get a crazy idea late at night to try and influence some sort of change, and it rattles around in your consciousness when you should be sleeping, maybe it isn’t so crazy after all. You might just meet some wonderful people and find you have more in common than you thought.

It all starts with one person walking through a door.