Patio Pondering: The Ingredients of Belonging

A Morning of Chaos and Calm

This sunny Monday morning was discombobulated by Mother Nature throwing snow and ice at the morning commute. Our local school is now on an e-learning day, which is being foiled by network issues with Canva, and the local news feeds are full of crash notices and calls to slow down.

As I enjoyed that later-than-normal coffee, it struck me how quickly we all adapt. Ice and snow rearrange the whole day, yet life keeps moving. The instinct to adjust seems stronger and comes more naturally when we’re part of something bigger than ourselves.

The Band That Belongs

Yesterday we hosted an unofficial end-of-year party for my son’s marching band. The original plan was to have a bonfire with one of the piles of trees we pulled from a fenceline, but snow and cold made us shift to an indoor event. Fortunately, we have a large house that could accommodate 45 high-schoolers and their loud voices.

As my wife and I entertained, watched, and listened, we were in awe of how this group of teenagers molded together as a team on and off the field. There were the typical teenage-boy antics, high-school girls’ laughter and gossip circles, but there were no exclusions, no one sitting alone on the sidelines. Everyone was involved.

The beauty of this band is that the only real qualification is an interest in music and a willingness to march. No one asks for résumés or reference letters, just commitment and heart. Somehow, it works. Every personality, every background, every odd quirk finds its place in the formation. Variety isn’t engineered here; it’s invited, expected, and accepted.

Watching them, I couldn’t help but think about how we adults try to replicate this sense of belonging by manipulating our teams and friend groups. Maybe this sense of belonging came from the close-quarters costume changes on school buses, the late-evening practices, or the joy of a successful season. Maybe it’s because these students—these children—have a home in the musical arts where they can grow, excel, and learn.

When Fit Replaces Belonging

I don’t know exactly why they molded into the groups they did. I do know they have my respect for what they are and how they are competitive, yet competition isn’t everything to them. As I watched the band run around the house, have a snowball fight, and even feed our horses apples, I couldn’t help but think about how this team came together without prequalifications, without placement exams, or screenings to see if they “fit.”

That stands in contrast to three job interviews I had this past year. All three started well, with, “Your résumé and experience fit what we want in this role.” In all three cases, the next step was a personality-profile assessment to see where I might fit with their team. And in all three cases, I was ghosted by the companies. I didn’t pass their test to be on their team. I never had the chance to share how I could fit in with my experience and talents.

I know these companies are just trying to facilitate and speed up cohesion, but their filtering may have stripped away the very ingredients that make a team rich. The people who think differently, who bring rough edges or unexpected ideas, are often the ones who add the flavor that can’t be found in a formula.

I wonder how different my son’s marching band would be if the director had used the same kind of test, “just to see how you would fit in,” before accepting someone into the band.

Engineering teams can be necessary in very specific cases. But engineering a team to fit some arbitrary matrix loses talent, loses the variety of experiences that make our world better, and limits you to just what you already know.

The Stone Soup of Teamwork

As I contemplated the differences between what I saw in my son’s marching band and what I’ve experienced in the workplace over the years, I remembered a fable I read as a young student: Stone Soup.

In the story, a traveler convinces wary villagers to contribute to a pot of boiling water that begins with nothing but a simple stone. One by one, they add what little they have—a few carrots, a potato, some herbs—and together they create something far richer than any of them could have made alone.

In the case of the band, the stone is the band itself, and the director adds what’s needed—another tuba, more flags, a bass guitar. He adds and takes as they come, just like the fable where each person brings what they have to make the soup richer.

In contrast, the workplace also starts with a stone, a sales objective or a project goal, but it adds to it differently. They want a marketing manager with x years of experience, a specific degree, and the right personality profile. The soup, while still a soup, doesn’t have the same depth of flavor.

It made me realize we’re all trying to make our own version of Stone Soup, but somewhere along the line we started turning away the ingredients that make it good, because we thought we knew better, that we knew exactly what we needed. But did we?

Finding the Recipe Again

Maybe the answer isn’t to perfect the recipe, but to trust the process. To let the right ingredients find their way to the pot. Like the marching band, the best teams are built from those willing to show up, contribute what they have, and make something greater together. That’s how real belonging begins, not from who we select, but from who we invite.