I think many of us take community and connection for granted. I know I did. I never had many friends. Just sorta went through my life not thinking I ever really needed anyone. Graphic design is such an isolated profession. You spend tons of time at a computer, alone. And if you are an in-house or independent designer, even more so.

That was me. I worked in-house for a company as the only creative on site. If things didn’t work, I had to figure it out. I didn’t have a phone-a-friend option to help me figure out why something wasn’t working. Or someone to share in my joy when something went very right. But I just thought that was how it was.

Then I happened across a social post for a virtual book talk. Something about it sounded cool and even though I hadn’t read the book, I figured I could fade into the background and just listen and hopefully learn something.

Well, I logged in and it wasn’t that at all! It was a small group and everyone was invited to talk. Including myself. YIKES!!! People hate speaking in public. I hate speaking in general. Especially when I am in a situation where I am incredibly outside my comfort zone. But I didn’t want to look like a fool, so I participated. And it was great.

Even though I hadn’t read the book, I had opinions and points of view I honestly didn’t know I had. I came off of that call feeling invigorated and inspired. There were people I could just talk to and learn so much from.

So I followed the Chicago Graphic Design Club and attended more of their events. Met more people and had more conversations. And the more I showed up, the more I realized what I’d been missing—not just a community, but a place where the things I cared about were worth talking about. Where I didn’t have to explain myself to get to the good part of the conversation.

I didn’t know I was looking for that until I found it.

This gift was so special to me, I had to give back to it. Now I’m the one trying to create the space that welcomed me—for everyone else who needs it, and for the ones who don’t know yet that they do.

I went to our last social hour and felt such joy watching that realization hit the newcomers. New faces, people who had just found the club, deep in conversations that had clearly moved way past introductions. Talking about work, about design, about the things that are hard to say out loud when you’re the only designer in the room—or when you’re surrounded by designers but still somehow feel alone in what you’re thinking.

That’s what community actually is. Not the events, not the programming. It’s what happens when you’re with people who get it. Who push back on your ideas because they’re actually listening. Who make you feel like the things you care about are worth caring about.

Design can be an isolating practice. You can spend years developing a point of view with almost nowhere to put it. The CGDC is the opposite of that. It’s a place where the conversation is already happening, and there’s always room for one more voice.

If you haven’t found your people yet, come check us out. We might be them.