The importance of community
What if one of the most important decisions we make today isn’t only for our children, but for the community our children grow up in?
Preston Lord lives on in the hearts of so many.
But remembrance doesn’t soften the aching truth:
He should still be here.
So should every child our communities have lost to violence.
And that truth leaves us with something difficult to shoulder:
We say it takes a village to raise a child, but that means taking accountability when our village is in crisis.
Maybe we didn’t know what we didn’t know.
But now we know more. There’s not excuse.
Last night, at Preston’s 19th heavenly birthday celebration on Preston Lord Day at The Stillery in Chandler, it hit hard seeing how deeply he is loved.
It was just as hard hitting to see how many people have chosen to do something with that love.
Families. Friends. Teenagers. Parents. Community members.
People refusing to let justice, awareness and change disappear when the attention does.
Complacency doesn’t seek justice.
And safer communities aren’t built by assuming someone else is paying attention.
I was reminded recently of the idea that we only have so much mental capacity for decisions in any given day.
What needs to get done?
Where do I need to be?
What does my child need?
What can wait?
What matters today?
Hundreds. Maybe thousands of choices. Everyday.
So the day after Preston’s birthday, I find myself coming back to one thought:
What if we deliberately assigned one of those choices to be of influence on the community our children are growing up in?
I can hear the responses as I write, “Cassie, nearly every choice I make throughout the day is already for my children.”
Mine too.
Nobody’s parenting is up for debate.
But that is exactly the point.
Because eventually, protecting our children extends beyond the walls of our own homes.
Our kids walk into schools we do not control.
They get into cars we are not driving
They attend parties we are not at.
They enter other homes.
They build friendships.
They experience pressures, conflicts and situations we may never know about until something has already happened.
There is a point where parenting intersects with community.
I believe this with all of my being.
And our children are only as protected as the community surrounding them is willing to be aware, involved and accountable.
That involvement cannot stop at sharing a post or expressing outrage after something terrible happens.
It has to include understanding how decisions are made in our schools and local government.
It means paying attention to school board meetings, city council meetings and community forums.
It means learning what policies are in place, how schools respond to violence and threats, what resources are available to students and families, and where the gaps are.
It means asking questions before there is another tragedy.
Not from blame, but from responsibility.
Responsibility to our village.
We are the leaders of our community. We.
Ask the questions. Attend the meeting.
Listen when a young person says something feels wrong.
Support the families standing in places none of us ever want to stand.
We cannot eliminate every danger or undo what has already happened.
But we can decide what we normalize, what we question, what we speak up about and what we refuse to ignore.
Because concern without participation becomes silence.
And in silence, history repeats itself.
We say it takes a village.
Then one of our choices has to actually be that village.
The question is no longer whether our victimized children will be loved and remembered.
They will.
The question is what remembering them moves us, as a village, to choose.
To act before tragedy makes the choice for us.
And on Preston’s 19th heavenly birthday, I think that’s the choice we can carry:
Let’s choose to help build the kind of village where another child gets to be here for their next birthday.
Happy 19th heavenly birthday, Preston. . You are remembered and continue to move through us.
Cassie Erwin
Community member