My coworkers in the River Project department at Hudson River Park helped me prepare (to the best of their ability) for the long winter. I graciously accepted recommendations of coats, boots, and scarves that would become a necessity as the season progressed, but little could have prepared me for the mental fortitude required for a real winter in the northeast. Two major snowstorms and a blizzard greeted me betweenDecember and March, and in all honesty, times were tough. This record-breaking winter took more than a good jacket to keep out the chill. 

As a self-proclaimed extrovert and sun-lover, my affinity for strolling down a snow-covered street was exceptionally low. New Year’s Eve is one of my favorite holidays because of the opportunity to plan out accomplishments, desires, and travels in advance. I see it as a big-picture look into what I can achieve in just a year. So, my ideals and resolutions for 2026 provided stark opposition to my new reality. Along with choosing my personal color of the year (purple) and creating a new vision board, I selected a quote for the year: “the price of community is inconvenience.” 

Typically, in the new year, my annual plan is set on the back burner relatively quickly; yet, the quote I meant to just keep on my Pinterest board became a personal mantra as the winter got colder. 

Over the past couple of months, I had my first work-from-home days due to travel bans or inability to move through the snow, and this taught me just how isolating winter could be. The cold and gray left me with little desire to venture far from my home; being out of the office and snowed in heightened the stark contrast between socializing in winter and summer. At work, our outdoor fieldwork felt like a chore and made me feel new levels of cold. While I was once eager to escape the indoor heat and join my peers in the sun, I soon found myself hibernating alone in my warm sanctuary.  

The lack of sunshine and the biting wind are hard to endure, but hibernating from friends, mentors, and my network took a toll on my mind and body. Removing myself from my support system, especially in a new city, left me wanting to reach out, but also dreading the cold outside my door. 

Herein lies the most important lesson I learned this winter: the price of community is inconvenient. 

Throughout the winter, I quickly realized that if I wanted to remain social outside of the office, I would have to make an extra effort to see my friends and mentors, regardless of the chill or the trek. I had to work extra hard to shift my view of my quote for the year from theory to practice. Accepting the fact that a consistent community would inevitably require more effort morphed my outlook on the winter. 

Not only did my shift in perception shake off the winter blues, it also deeply strengthened my connection to my NYC mentors and coworkers. What was once a time of year dedicated to slipping in yellow snow and seasonal colds, became an occasion for warm food, laughter, and celebrations. I was able to bond with my coworkers over miserable weather forecasts; every slip on the ice became a silly anecdote instead of a grim tale. The resilience my team demonstrated when climbing over snowbanks to check fish traps or clearing paths for education inspired me to continue showing up throughout the winter. 

By the time the office holiday party came around, I was eager to leave my home and join my peers. This change gave way to opportunities to expand my network and rekindle relationships I built during the summer. Cozy coffee chats and warm ramen bowls became staples of my winter weekends as I caught up with mentors, like former FAO Schwarz Fellow, Jesse McLaughlin ’24. Choosing to be intentional about each outdoor venture lets me structure my conversations and actions in meaningful ways. 

After my first “real” winter, I can confidently say that I came out on the other side with more knowledge about perseverance, resilience, and the true price of community. Accepting that some things will always be inconvenient allowed me to meet my friends and mentors halfway. And, I’d like to think our relationships are better off because of it. So, when winter rolls around again next year, try to remind yourself that community does not always come freely, but it is always worth the effort.