November 1, 2026
I have been thinking about the many ways we gather.
Around tables, in family homes, at church, in schoolyards, and in the company of people whose presence has become so familiar that we seldom stop to consider what it means to have them around.
Growing up in Asawase, Kumasi, gathering was simply part of life. Between school, church, and community activities, there was always somewhere to be and someone to be with.
I remember Mondays and Wednesdays at volleyball practice, Tuesdays and Thursdays at Red Cross meetings, Wednesdays and Saturdays at Brigade practice, Fridays at JY meetings, and Sundays at church.
Seldom was I ever alone.
I didn't have to think about finding a community. I was already part of several. And somewhere between those meetings, practices, church services, and ordinary afternoons, friendships were formed that I still carry with me today.
Some of those friendships are now more than thirty-eight years old. These are people who have become more family than friends. We have grown, taken different paths, and found ourselves in different parts of the world. Yet there is an unseen thread that continues to hold us together, regardless of the distance between us.
I don't think we knew then what we were building. We were simply children, showing up, spending time together, and living our lives. And somehow, in all that ordinary togetherness, we formed relationships that would outlast the very places that brought us together.
Living in the diaspora has given me a different understanding of gathering.
There is a particular desire for familiarity when you live away from home. Perhaps that is why we find ourselves forming communities through churches, hometown and tribal associations, social clubs, and gatherings that sometimes exist for no greater purpose than spending time together.
And why shouldn't we?
Not every gathering needs an occasion or an elaborate purpose. Sometimes, being in the company of people who understand something about where you come from is reason enough.
I sometimes wonder whether, in forming these communities, we are searching for more than companionship. Perhaps we are also searching for a little of the familiarity we once knew. A place where our language, humor, customs, and shared experiences need no explanation. Where, even for a few hours, the distance between where we came from and where we now live feels a little smaller.
But gathering changes as our lives do.
What once seemed to happen naturally now often requires coordinating schedules, checking bank accounts, requesting time off, and finding a day when everyone can be present.
There is something about that change I haven't quite made peace with.
I miss the ease of simply being. The familiarity of knowing that people would be around without anyone having to arrange it. The ordinary conversations and unexpected encounters that became part of a day without asking anything of us beforehand.
And yet, I recognize that the gatherings we create today have their own significance. They reflect the lives we are living now, the relationships we choose to nurture, and the effort we make to remain connected despite the demands placed upon us.
Perhaps gathering has never been one thing.
It can be celebration, obligation, comfort, responsibility, tradition, or simply the pleasure of another person's company. It can remind us of where we come from while introducing us to people and experiences that become part of who we are.
As we begin November's theme, The Ritual of Gathering, I want to spend some time exploring these different experiences of coming together.
The communities that shaped us. The relationships we create. The traditions we share. The places where we feel we belong, and the ways that sense of belonging changes over time.
After September's The Ritual of Returning and October's The Ritual of Keeping, gathering feels like a natural place for our conversation to continue.
Because so much of what we return to, and so much of what we choose to keep, is connected to the people with whom we have shared our lives.
Perhaps what I miss most about those earlier days isn't any particular gathering, but how naturally we found ourselves in one another's lives.
And yet, when I think of the friendships that have remained with me for nearly four decades, I realize that something of those gatherings has never really left us.
The places may have changed. Our lives certainly have. But the connections remain.
And that is where I want our conversation to begin.
What does gathering mean to you?
With Gratitude,
Maame Birago