The Learning Curve Chronicles: Choosing Community in a Consumer Culture
- Jan 14
- 6 min read
In this monthly blog series, Circles USA Chief Learning Officer Kris Alexander shares insights on her learning journey, sources of inspiration, and what excites her about her work. The column offers a behind-the-scenes perspective on the learning curve that drives growth and progress at CUSA as we continually deepen and enhance our mission of building community to end poverty.
Happy New Year Circles USA Family!
This holiday season, I thought a lot about how consumerism affects the way we build community.
Maybe it's because I recently completed the work to become a Trauma of Money Certified Facilitator (woo hoo!), which required a lot of learning about how capitalism works. Or maybe it’s because I am in the process of watching The Century of the Self, a documentary by Adam Curtis on how Edward Bernays used his Uncle Freud's theory of the unconscious to develop marketing as a means of economic and political control. Or maybe it is because my spouse is on a major history-reading kick, and I’ve learned a lot from them lately about how our history continues to inform our world today.
Over Thanksgiving, I was thinking about how, when I was growing up, everything was closed on Thanksgiving day. If we forgot an ingredient or ran out of something, there was no running to the store to pick it up. Instead, we either went without; or (more often) I would be sent to the neighbors’ to ask for a cup of flour, a stick of butter, or a couple of eggs. And we would, of course, provide whatever it was they needed when they came knocking as well.
Now, stores are open year-round for longer and longer hours. Instead of having to “bother” our neighbors, we drive to the store to pick up what we forgot or mismeasured, on Thanksgiving and every day. It may seem small, but to me it is one indication of how we are more reliant on our wallets than one another.
Because capitalism is the priority for America, even folks who don’t celebrate Thanksgiving often have to work on the holidays they do celebrate—or at the very least, argue their case to receive the time off. And now, Black Friday, which used to begin very early on Friday morning, now often starts on Thanksgiving evening. There is nothing like waiting in line for hours to shove people out of the way for a doorbuster sale one day (or a few hours) after celebrating gratitude for what we already have.
As consumerism continues to rise, the damage to community is two-fold: we have less reason to get to know our neighbors, and service workers are expected to make money for their company rather than spend time with loved ones.
According to the National Retail Federation, holiday spending in America has gone from about $484 billion in 2005 to $976.1 billion in 2024. Studies show that over half of Americans planned to take on debt in 2025 for their Christmas spending, and 50% of Christmas sales will be online, with that number rising by the day. This spending is driven by ads and influencers pushing us to consume. Studies show we are exposed to thousands of ads a day, and despite only being conscious of around 100 of them, that’s still a staggering amount of consumerism impacting our lives at every turn.
I want to be clear, I am not here to judge, shame, or guilt anyone for their personal spending or choices. I am simply noticing trends that I am most certainly not immune to myself.
Holiday consumerism takes something that has the potential to be communal—shopping—and turns it into, at best, a solitary activity from our couches, or at worst, a knock-down, drag-out fight over baby dolls found in cabbage patches or adorable bear cups. Consumerism invites us into the worst versions of ourselves, manufacturing scarcity and inciting competition in order to enforce exclusivity.
Despite being branded as “the most wonderful time of the year,” holidays are often when service workers are treated the worst, absorbing the anger and frustration of customers over problems entirely beyond their control. The holiday season is meant to be a time of connection, generosity, and shared humanity, yet consumerism consistently undermines the deeper meaning of Christmas and other holidays.
As the Grinch so wisely observed, “Maybe Christmas doesn’t come from a store. Maybe Christmas… perhaps… means a little bit more.”
Additionally, there is a deep subconscious message in our culture that is reinforced during the holidays. We show love through our gifts, we are only as valued as what we get, and we need to have a “haul” to show off to be loved. My spouse and I chose to have a very small Christmas this year, only buying presents for our closest family members and friends, not buying much for one another, and shopping locally as much as possible. Despite these intentional decisions, I found myself panicking as we saw folks around the holidays. I felt that if we didn’t give them a gift, they would think that we didn’t care, or love them, or value their presence in our lives. Or, heaven forbid, they would get us something and we would just be standing there feeling guilty. It took a lot of emotional regulation on my part to not run out and buy more for people just to show them I cared (and a couple of times, I did that anyways).
Scarcity, debt, and online shopping are doing even more damage to our communities. Local businesses continue to fold, unable to keep up with low-quality, low-price online alternatives and large-scale marketing tactics. When most of our shopping is done online, including grocery shopping, we lose the opportunity to run into people we know. We also lose the opportunity to make new friends as we stand in line together or look at the same section in the bookstore. And now, in January, instead of our resolutions for 2026 being about building community or joining a club, they are about paying down debt…often just in time to do it all again next year.
This is part observation, part call to action. This year, show your friends and family members you care year-round through lots of different actions. Partake in activities like eating meals together, calling loved ones, or volunteering with your friends. Choose not to go into debt to buy things for folks who probably won’t still own them in five years. Make gifts, shop local, and prioritize community over consumerism. And finally, join a club (or, my personal favorite, a Circles chapter)!
I personally believe that we should be learning from the queer, immigrant, disabled, and Indigenous communities, who are often deeply communal out of necessity due to the marginalization and oppression they continue to face. Potlucks, Friendsgiving, volunteer days, and virtual gatherings have become the norm in many communities who don’t have access to (or choose not to celebrate) what is often considered the “traditional holidays” for any number of reasons.
One thing I love about Circles is our community building. Circles is all about bringing people together across lines of difference, which means that the perceived scarcity and exclusivity of consumerism naturally fall away in a Circles chapter. Many of our chapters celebrate holidays with potlucks, inviting everyone to bring their favorite dishes and spend time together connecting over food made with love. And some even celebrate the holidays by creating additional opportunities to build relationships through volunteering, service, or special events that support their entire community.
If you are not part of a chapter, now is the time to check one out. And if you haven’t already, follow Indigenous, disabled, immigrant, and queer individuals to learn how to be a community from those who do it best. If we start now, the next holiday season will be different for us all.
Read more from Kris on her monthly Circles USA blog, The Learning Curve Chronicles:
