We heard a loud ripping sound and then an echoing boom.
My husband and I both rushed out to the backyard and saw that a huge tree had fallen on the house next door. Dani grabbed his jacket and ran over to check on our neighbors. Jim, who is in his late 70s, lives in the house as the caretaker for his older sister, Evelyn.
Miraculously, the tree damaged their roof, but did not come crashing through the home that Jim and Evelyn were both occupying at the time.
Dani called the county from their house to report the fallen tree and then followed up multiple times to ensure that they scheduled the removal.
Once we knew our neighbors were safe and I had a moment to reflect on the situation, I was struck by how instinctively we felt motivated to act. While my husband went to check on them, I was waiting by my phone, strategizing about which other neighbors to call if it was a more serious situation and we needed to rally others to help get them out. There was no hesitation or pause. It was a natural and obvious response to do what we could to provide support. It also felt reassuring to know that had the wind been blowing a different direction and the tree had fallen on our house, surely others would swoop in to support us. It was a small, yet powerful reminder of what it truly means to be part of a community.
It brought to mind an anecdote I heard in a college class about the famed anthropologist Margaret Mead. She was asked by a student what she considered to be the first sign of civilization in a culture. The student expected Mead to talk about fishhooks, clay pots, or grinding stones, artifacts that signal human ingenuity and innovation.
Instead, Mead said that the first sign of civilization in an ancient culture was a femur (thighbone) that had been broken and then healed. Mead explained that “in the animal kingdom, if you break your leg, you die. You cannot run from danger, get to the river for a drink, or hunt for food. You are meat for prowling beasts. No animal survives a broken leg long enough for the bone to heal. A broken femur that has healed is evidence that someone has taken time to stay with the one who fell, has bound up the wound, has carried the person to safety and has tended the person through recovery. Helping someone else through difficulty is where civilization starts,” said Mead.
In Western cultures, where individualism is often celebrated above all else, it is easy to forget that our well-being is deeply intertwined. We live in communities, not in isolation. We depend on teachers to educate our children, farmers to grow our food, healthcare workers to care for our bodies, and countless unseen hands that keep our society moving. We are social creatures; no one thrives alone.
Mead’s example is powerful because it reminds us of something fundamental: human survival has never been an individual pursuit. Our strength has always come from our ability to care for one another, to stand together in times of hardship, and to build systems of mutual assistance.
But this isn’t just about survival—it’s about leadership. If the first sign of civilization is a healed femur, then leadership, whether in our workplaces, neighborhoods, or families, must be rooted in the same principle: caring for the most vulnerable, advocating for those who need the most support, lifting up the most disenfranchised.
It’s checking in on a colleague who seems overwhelmed, speaking up at school board meetings for fair policies that empower rather than marginalize, or fostering a family culture where everyone feels safe to be their full authentic selves. It’s about cultivating environments where people can heal, grow, and thrive.
As humans, we are wired for connection and built for belonging. The fallen tree in my neighbor’s yard was a small-scale reminder of this truth. In a moment of crisis, we didn’t stop to ask whose responsibility it was or figure out who to blame before rushing to help. It felt good to remember that we are intrinsically linked together in ways that we often take for granted in our modern world.
Right now, the very fabric of our interconnectedness is being challenged. Wedges are intentionally being driven between populations who are all under attack: immigrants, trans and non-binary folks, people living with disabilities, just to name a few. Policies that dismantle collective safety nets, undermine equity, or prioritize power over people threaten the very essence of civilization itself. Mead’s lesson is both timeless and urgent: thriving societies are not about what we create, build, or accumulate, but about how we ensure that no one is left behind.
If you (or someone you know) could benefit from working with a certified coach focused on personal and professional growth and a trained facilitator who will provide customized, holistic, and tireless support as you or your team identify and take action toward your goals, please reach out to One Eleven Leadership to set up a complimentary consultation.