Softening the Edges: Collective Work as an Invitation

Pictured Helanius J. Wilkins & Brandon Welch. Green Mountain Falls, CO Choreographic Ritual. November 2025.

In a world where achievement is often measured by individual prowess and control, the concept of collective work stands as a gentle but powerful invitation: to soften our edges, release the grip of control, and step into a space where true collaboration thrives. As I write this reflection, I am acutely aware that it emerges on the eve of my Grandma Eva Broussard’s 99th heavenly birthday. Her memory—and the house she shared with my grandpa—holds some of my earliest and most cherished memories of softening, collaboration, and creating a welcoming space for all. In their home, I witnessed what it meant to make room for others, to listen deeply, and to cultivate belonging, lessons that continue to shape my understanding of collective work. This reflection, in many ways, is a tribute to the legacy of openness and hospitality that Grandma Eva embodied, and to the ways those early experiences still reverberate in my life and work today. At the same time, I find myself on the eve of the public presentation of the 4th iteration of the stage production for The Conversation Series: Stitching the Geopolitical Quilt to Re-Body Belonging—this time held at the Sallie Bush Community Center in Green Mountain Falls, CO. The convergence of these milestones invites deeper consideration of how letting go of the traditional notion of power—where being "in control" is paramount—can open doors to trust, authentic connection, and shared creativity. It also calls forth the realization that the need to control is often rooted in fear and a reluctance to reveal vulnerability, and that embracing collective work can help us move beyond these barriers.

Softening does not mean weakness; instead, it implies flexibility, receptivity, and openness. When we soften our edges, we allow room for others to join us, to contribute, and to co-create. In collective work, this softening is essential, transforming rigid boundaries into permeable membranes where ideas, perspectives, and experiences can flow freely. Welcoming feedback without defensiveness, being present with others rather than imposing agendas, or simply allowing silence to hold space for reflection are all practical ways to embody this approach. The act of softening invites us to resist the urge to dominate conversations or outcomes and, instead, trust that the group possesses wisdom that no single individual can claim. These are values I saw lived in my grandparents’ home, where every guest found a seat at the table and every story, no matter how small, was met with warmth and attention.

I strive to anchor my work in these very practices. The Conversation Series: Stitching the Geopolitical Quilt to Re-Body Belonging offers a living testament to what becomes possible when individuals and groups choose to soften their edges. Through this initiative, I bring together artists, businesses, and community members in a collaborative process that values openness, vulnerability, and collective intelligence. By fostering environments where boundaries dissolve and diverse voices are invited in, I demonstrate how true collaboration can lead to a richer sense of belonging and creative possibility. In my work, the act of softening is not abstract but embodied—manifested through dialogue, shared movement, and the willingness to be changed by one another's presence and experiences. As I prepare for the upcoming performance at the Sallie Bush Community Center, I am reminded of my grandparents’ welcoming spirit, and I seek to create a space where every participant can feel at home and every voice can help shape our shared narrative.

The notion that power equates to being in control is deeply ingrained in many cultures. Leadership is often associated with command and authority, yet true power may lie in our capacity to create space for others. It becomes less about controlling outcomes and more about influencing environments where people feel courageous enough to participate and take risks. Releasing control can be uncomfortable, especially when it feels like letting go of certainty. The compulsion to control often arises from underlying fears—fear of chaos, of being exposed, of not knowing. Admitting that we don’t have all the answers risks showing vulnerability, but vulnerability is the wellspring of trust and connection, both foundational for collective work. This lesson is one I learned early, sitting in my grandparents’ kitchen, watching how they welcomed the unknown with curiosity rather than trepidation.

Collective work is an invitation not to fear creating space, but to focus on building trust within ourselves and with those around us. Trust is not a commodity that can be demanded; it is cultivated through consistent acts of honesty, presence, and support. It grows when we acknowledge our limitations, listen deeply, and are willing to be changed by what we hear. To "be with and alongside" others is to move beyond transactional relationships and into a realm where collaboration is rooted in empathy and mutual respect. It is to honor the collective intelligence of the group, rather than the singular expertise of any one member. When trust prevails, control becomes unnecessary because the group learns to navigate uncertainty together. My grandparents’ home was a classroom for these principles, a place where trust was baked into every interaction and where collaboration was simply a way of being.

The need to control can sometimes serve as armor, shielding us from the discomfort of not knowing. When we hide our uncertainty, we miss opportunities for learning and growth. Vulnerability—showing up honestly, admitting we don’t have all the answers—can feel risky, but it is also an act of courage. Collective work, by its very nature, requires us to reveal and accept our vulnerability. This is not a sign of inadequacy, but a foundation for genuine connection. In spaces where vulnerability is shared, fear dissipates, and creativity emerges. We move from a place of defensiveness to one of curiosity and openness. I carry with me the example of Grandma Eva, whose openness continues to guide me as I move into expanded spaces for ongoing collaboration.

Letting go of control and embracing collective work is not an abandonment of responsibility; it is an intentional act of trust and openness. It is an invitation to create spaces where people can bring their whole selves, where uncertainty is not feared, and where power is reimagined as the ability to uplift and include. As we soften our edges and release the notion that power requires control, we make room for true collaboration. We learn that collective work is not just a strategy—it is a way of being, one that fosters trust, creativity, and belonging. In this space, we do not fear the unknown; we welcome it, knowing that together, we can navigate whatever comes our way.

As I stand on the threshold of sharing the 4th iteration of The Conversation Series: Stitching the Geopolitical Quilt to Re-Body Belonging at the Sallie Bush Community Center—on the eve of both this public presentation and my Grandma Eva’s 99th heavenly birthday—I am filled with gratitude for the legacy of softening, hospitality, and collaboration that began in her home. What an honor it is to carry these lessons forward, to create new spaces of belonging, and to invite others to join in the ongoing work of re-bodying what it means to belong. I see this iteration of The Conversation Series: Stitching the Geopolitical Quilt to Re-Body Belonging as both an offering and a celebration: of collective work, of the wisdom passed down through generations, and of all the ways we can soften our edges and come together.

***Taking place Thursday, February 12, 2026 at 7 pm mst, the performance of the 4th iteration of The Conversation Series: Stitching the Geopolitical Quilt to Re-Body Belonging is the culminating event for my Green Box Artist Residency.