Walking down the main streets of Yamba as a child, I might not have known everyone, but everyone knew me. Not because I lived there, but because they knew my grandparents and great-grandparents. That’s how the community worked. Everyone was connected by family, by history, by heart.
That feeling is fading. The sense of community that once held us together is slipping away. People now don’t even know the person living right next door to them, let alone those walking down the street. We’ve become neighbours in name only, disconnected from one another by closed doors and busy lives.
In 2019 and again in 2022, the Clarence Valley stood tall through fire and flood. When disaster hit, we came together, we sandbagged, we rescued, we fun-raised, we helped clean up. Strangers helped strangers, not for recognition, but because that’s what communities do.
But once the emergencies passed, so too did the connection. The everyday spirit of community - the helping hand, the friendly check-in, the shared responsibility - faded into the background.
Now, our local emergency services are pleading for volunteers. Sports clubs are begging for canteen helpers, coaches, and referees just to get teams on the field. Op shops are overwhelmed with bags of unsorted donations and not enough hands to manage them. And all the while, people keep asking: Why aren’t things getting better?
We see the problems: homelessness, loneliness, struggling families. But instead of stepping in, we step back. We say, someone else will do it. But the truth is: there is no one else now.
Those who do step up are volunteers who are burning out or getting older. They’ve been carrying the load for years, and without fresh support, even the strongest foundations begin to crack.
We complain about kids roaming the streets, but don’t ask what supports are missing. We get frustrated when services close down, but don’t offer to help keep them open. We expect the community to still be there for us, even when we’ve stopped being part of it.
We saw this disconnect clearly at a recent Maclean community meeting. The turnout was small - a few dedicated locals willing to show up and be part of the conversation. Not one person from our younger generations came to have a say. Their absence was felt. And yet, for those who did attend, it was a valuable opportunity to connect directly with councillors, ask questions, and have real conversations about what matters most. The event itself was a great one - but the low attendance made it clear how much work we still have to do.
Community isn’t something we can take for granted. It’s not a resource that runs on autopilot. It needs people. It needs participation. It needs all of us.
The Clarence Valley hasn’t lost its community completely. But it is fading. Waiting for us to bring it back.
So let’s rebuild it, together.
Help at one event. Join one team. Visit one neighbour. Be the person who shows up.
Because when we all do a little, the community becomes strong again.
And we need it now more than ever.