The Learning Curve Chronicles: The Healing Power of Social Capital
- Kris Alexander
- 5 days ago
- 4 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.
This month, I had a minor medical procedure. It was a quick surgery, but it required full anesthesia, and I spent the weekend at home recovering. So why am I sharing this with you?
Because I couldn’t help but reflect on another surgery I had fifteen years ago—also requiring full anesthesia, but with a very different recovery experience. Back then, I was a single mom with few resources. I had put off the procedure for years because I didn’t have anyone to care for my son, couldn’t afford time off work, and didn’t have a safe or stable place to recover.
When the problem worsened to the point where the doctor said surgery was no longer optional, I was admitted to the hospital overnight for an emergency procedure scheduled first thing the next morning. In a scramble, I found a friend’s mom to care for my son, but the whole situation was precarious for all of us. After the procedure, I asked the nurse about staying an extra night because I didn’t have anywhere I felt I would be safe or properly cared for. Of course, hospitals aren’t equipped for extended recovery stays, and I was eventually talked into staying with a family member, someone who did not treat me well, even on the best of days. It was deeply unpleasant. I ended up leaving and bouncing around with acquaintances until I was “recovered enough” to go home and care for my son—still in significant pain and definitely before I was ready.
At the time, it felt like a personal failing. Who puts off a procedure until it becomes an emergency? Who doesn’t have someone to care for them after surgery? Why don’t I have the resources to ensure my child is cared for? What kind of person can’t even be sure their job will still be there after missing a few days due to a health issue? I blamed myself, thinking that if I were just a better person, I would somehow have more support.
Now, with the benefit of experience, language, and a clearer understanding of systemic inequities, I view things differently. I wasn't lacking character—I was lacking social capital. I didn’t yet have a strong web of relationships that could hold me through hard times. I also faced the very real systemic barriers that keep people in poverty. Without that network of reliable, trustworthy support, everything was so much harder than it needed to be. My heart goes out to the young woman I used to be.
There's no prerequisite for social capital beyond the recognition that we are all human, we all need help sometimes, and we're all stronger when we have a robust network to lean into during hard times.
Fast forward to this past Friday. My spouse drove me to the surgery center, waited through the procedure, and visited me in the recovery area. Friends checked in throughout the morning. So many people offered support that I actually forgot to tell my dad and his wife (who live just 30 minutes away and would’ve gladly helped) that I was even having surgery. I came home to a clean, comfortable, safe house where I could fully rest. Granted, I no longer have a three-year-old, but I didn’t even have to walk the dog or feed the cat, let alone worry about a single thing.
When I let our Executive Director, Kamatara, know I needed Friday off (and maybe Monday too), she responded with warmth, empathy, and support. There was no fear about job security or repercussions. My only job this weekend was to heal.
What a difference.
Yes, my financial situation has changed, but so has my social capital. If I had the kind of supportive network back then that I do now, I could have faced that earlier surgery with far less fear and stress. I would have had people to care for my son, to stay with me in my own home, and to show up for me in ways that made recovery possible—and maybe even comfortable. In fact, I wouldn’t have even questioned whether I deserved this comfort and care. There's no prerequisite for social capital beyond the recognition that we are all human, we all need help sometimes, and we're all stronger when we have a robust network to lean into during hard times.
At Circles, we believe social capital is a necessary component of poverty reduction. This is why our mission is “Building community to end poverty.” We understand the importance of relationships, and we work to develop social capital for our Circle Leaders, those who are leaving poverty behind. Our data shows that when people join Circles, they often have just one person they can call in a crisis…if anyone. By the time they graduate, that number has increased by 400%. Can you imagine what a difference that kind of shift makes in a person’s life? I’ve lived that difference, and I can tell you, it is everything.
Social capital is the safety net. It’s the community we create around one another and the key to removing the systemic barriers keeping people in poverty. It’s what turns surviving into thriving, isolation into belonging, and hardship into hope.
Social capital is what we’re building at Circles, and this is what will end poverty permanently.
Read more about how Circles defines and builds social capital in communities like yours here.
Read more from Kris on her monthly Circles USA blog, The Learning Curve Chronicles:
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