A stranger gave me a book last week, complete with circled chapter recommendations and a smile to boot. Well, stranger isn’t exactly the right word. I’d seen him and his wife at my favorite cafe every morning for the past two months, exchanging the occasional smile or head nod. I’d quietly thought to myself how cute it was that he and his wife had a daily connection routine and seemed to enjoy being together so much.
That day, I was particularly in need of a caffeine boost and gave a little nod and a smile as I took the first sip of my espresso. His wife commented, and we ended up talking about our dogs who love to wake us up early — which, in turn, fuels our need for caffeine. When her husband joined us, he introduced himself and noted that he’d noticed me reading James Baldwin the previous week.
The stranger, whose name is John, shared a story of how he’d found a treasure trove of books with notes and messages to loved ones scribbled in the covers when his father passed, and he wanted to continue the tradition. He confirmed the spelling of my name, then wrote our names and the date on the title page of Henry David Thoreau’s Walden and Other Writings and handed it to me. He even circled a few chapters he thought I’d enjoy based on my Baldwin selection.
I couldn’t help but smile — I’d been meaning to order a collection of Thoreau’s works for months now, ever since I started writing Mina, Unfiltered. I politely thanked John and exchanged puppy photos with his wife, Cassidy, before waving them goodbye as they headed on their merry way. After they left, I took a photo of the title page and sent it to all of my friends. Being considered by a member of my community who had no reason to care about me beyond basic human decency made my entire day.
This connection is an example of what Stanford professor Mark S. Granovetter described as “weak ties” in his seminal 1973 paper “The Strength of Weak Ties,” originally published in the American Journal of Sociology. Granovetter’s original paper argues that weak connections are often more useful for career advancement than strong ones, and that acquaintances can expand our lives by introducing us to people outside our social circles.
Just days before this interaction, my friend Keith and I had a conversation about how lovely it feels to be a “regular” somewhere. The cast of Cheers had it right when they said, “Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name, and they're always glad you came.” There’s something special about walking into a cafe, restaurant, bar, or bookstore and being greeted by name by staff and patrons alike. Even if you never see any of those people outside that location, knowing that you have a familiar group of people you can count on seeing at your favorite place makes a city feel like a community.
When we talk about building community, many of us think about forming strong connections with our neighbors or making new friends with whom we discuss deep topics daily. But, while strong relationships are important for health and well-being, weak ties are what humanize a place and make it worth fighting for.
I’ve made no secret of wanting to leave my hometown and am actively working to make that happen, but being a regular at my little cafe has made the liminal space a lot easier to tolerate. I still feel limited by the dearth of opportunities in my small city, but I no longer feel isolated and disconnected when my few strong ties are too busy to connect. I also find myself caring more about participating in what local activities we do have because anyone could be a John or a Cassidy. Valuing weak ties helps you appreciate and care for people you aren’t close to, which the world needs now more than ever.
It’s popular on social media to lament “having” to participate in small talk with strangers. But this very small talk — with grocery attendants, bank clerks, and baristas — is the key to feeling at home in your city and paves the way for new connections, both strong and weak. I’ll probably never be best friends with my fellow cafe regulars, and that’s okay. I may never see any of them outside of the building’s walls. But I will feel comforted and at ease by their presence every time I walk inside the door. And that’s just fine with me.
Do you have any stories of “weak” ties improving your life and making you feel more at home? How do you foster casual connections to strengthen your community? I’d love to hear from you!
Yours in connection,
Mina
P.S. I recently started a subscriber referral program. All Mina, Unfiltered readers who refer at least 5 new subscribers will receive a download of my current work-in-progress novella, A Tough Row to Hoe. The novella follows Charles Smith — a Black sharecropper, Vietnam veteran, and patriarch — across six decades of life in rural Tennessee. I’ve been putting my heart and soul into writing it, and I can’t wait to share the finished novella with you. If you enjoy my writing and don’t mind sharing it with others, click below to start collecting referrals today!