When I visited Lawrence, Kansas, one of the things that struck me was how much the community had embraced something much bigger than a soccer tournament.

Everywhere I looked, there were reminders that Lawrence had become home, at least for a little while, to a team from halfway around the globe. Algerian flags were hanging in storefronts. People were wearing green. There was a sense of energy and welcome around town that was really fun to see.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized this was not really a soccer story. It was a community story.

One of the things I have been thinking about a lot lately is how much people are hungering for a real sense of community. It is one of the great ironies of our time. We have never been more connected technologically. Through social media, we can see what is happening around the world in real time and communicate instantly across oceans and continents. And yet, at the same time, so many people feel more isolated, more lonely, and more disconnected than ever.

That is why what happened in Lawrence during FIFA World Cup is so powerful.

A soccer team from the North African nation of Algeria came to Lawrence as its World Cup base camp, and almost overnight, a college town in Kansas decided these visitors were not just guests passing through. They were neighbors. They were part of the community. They were Lawrence’s team.

And Lawrence acted like it.

Hundreds of citizens showed up late at night at the airport carrying Algerian flags and wearing Algerian team colors to welcome people most of them had never met. Storefronts around town put up Algerian flags. People pulled on green jerseys. Families came out to catch a glimpse of the players. A local resident, standing in front of a row of Algerian flags, was asked what he knew about the country whose colors he was flying. His answer was essentially, not much yet, but we want to welcome you here.

That is a beautiful thing. There was no agenda in that. Nothing performative. Just a neighbor saying to a group of strangers, we are glad you came.

The welcome only grew from there. The University of Kansas marching band learned Algeria’s national anthem, note for note, and played it as the team walked out to practice. Think about that for a moment. These players are thousands of miles from home, living out of hotels, preparing for one of the biggest moments of their professional lives. And when they stepped onto the field in Kansas, the first thing they heard was the sound of their own country’s song, played by college students who learned it just for them.

That is how bridges get built.

Not through slogans. Not through speeches. Not through yet another social media post about how divided we all are. Bridges get built when people choose to show up for one another. They get built when strangers are treated like neighbors. They get built when a community decides that hospitality matters.

And Algeria did its part, too. The team opened a training session to the public and spent time with local kids, walking them through drills, signing autographs, posing for pictures, and creating memories those children will carry for the rest of their lives. The players, in turn, began calling themselves honorary Kansans.

We are told constantly that people who do not look like us, talk like us, pray like us, vote like us, or come from where we come from are somehow a threat. We are told to be afraid of one another. We are told to pull back, protect our own, and assume the worst.

Then a college town in Kansas learns every note of a North African country’s national anthem just so a group of strangers will feel at home. That is who we are at our best.

It also reminds us of something local government leaders need to take seriously. Cities are not just service providers. They are not just streets, budgets, police, parks, permits, and potholes. At their best, cities are the places where people learn how to belong to one another. They are where relationships form. They are where trust is built. They are where strangers become neighbors.

If our nation is going to heal, I am convinced it will not begin in Washington, D.C. It will begin in communities. It will begin with local leaders who understand that building community is not extra work. It is the work.

That is what I saw in Lawrence.

Lawrence did not just host Algeria. They built community on purpose. And that is the call to action for every city leader paying attention.

Look for ways to help people connect. Create moments where people can gather. Build bridges before you need them. Help strangers become neighbors.

Because sometimes the healing our world needs starts with something as simple and powerful as a town showing up with flags and saying, “We are glad you are here.”

To learn more about how Lawrence embraced Algeria during the World Cup, read KCUR’s story, “Rock Chalk Algeria: Residents of Lawrence, Kansas, embrace their World Cup home team.” 

About Ron on the Road

Ron Holifield speaks to over 2,000 local government officials annually and has coffee with over 250 local government officials each year as part of his travels. If you have a cool site you think he should visit, email Ron@CivicMarketplace.com. 

NOTE: This column was written with the assistance of Melissa Valentine, senior director of operations and support at Civic Marketplace

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