No Lines in the Sand

Photography by Bethany Rees
Text by Jennifer Cooper & Mia Quagliarello

“I would say Burning Man is its own thing entirely. You won’t find anything else like it on Earth. ”

— Mia Quagliarello

Community. Maybe it’s the pandemic, the great awakening/reckoning, or the rise in American nationalism—dear lord, we’ve got so many things happening all at once—but community is something I’m thinking about intensely.

Truth is, I don’t actually know a lot about community building. I mean, I’ve taken a stab at it over the years of being a content creator, but it’s not part of my origin story. I grew up in the culture of supreme self-reliance to the detriment of, well, probably everything. I don’t know if it’s a white woman thing (it may be) or if it’s a growing-up-kind-of-poor thing (it’s possible) or if it’s a shared history of conservative values thrusted upon us to hide intergenerational trauma and abuse (probably, definitely).

Whatever the initial cause, I knew I needed to break up with the practice. It’s taken me years to unravel my own relationship with the rather toxic practice of hyper-individualism and fully embrace the beauty and vulnerability of being part of a community. And, frankly, I’m still working on it.

This brings me to my fascination with Burning Man, which was held virtually this year. It is a community of its own making. Each year tens of thousands of people looking for a shared experience beyond the restrictions placed on them in every day life gather in the desert, commune for several days, and then leave without a trace.

They’re people in search of freedom. The kind of freedom that comes from erasing every line drawn in the sand between us.

Why? How? What?

I have so many questions! So I rang up Mia Quagliarello, the VP of Content and Community at MTTR, a startup looking to make culture more conscious. She not only knows a thing or two about community building, she also knows a ton about Burning Man. She used to be their Digital Community Manager.

So, I’m kind of obsessed with the whole idea of Burning Man. I’ve never been, but I’m transfixed by this idea of a community coming together. Maybe especially now that it’s not safe to physically get together. I think I’m craving that connection. How did you get involved with it in the first place?

Well, like many people, at first I was attracted to it because it looked like an epic party. I’m a huge music nerd—electronic music—and Burning Man just seemed like an event I would love.

I actually hated it my first day! I was completely unprepared for how physically hard it would be. The weather is brutal, the dust gets in every crevice, and you have to bike long distances to see everything. But I stuck it out, and once I surrendered to it, it ended up having a big impact on my life.

I’ve seen pictures and a few videos, but what’s it like to be there in person? Like, what’s the feeling you get?

It’s amazing! After the first time, it’s the feeling of going Home. It’s a place of zero pretense, good people, and creativity at a scale you’ve never seen before. The art installations alone are a reason to go.

Okay, maybe this is a better/easier question: What did you notice most the first time you went?

The first time I went I was very tuned into the music (even though that’s not the best thing about it). All the big and little parties going on 24/7, learning the vibes of the different sound camps and just starting to understand the subculture. I was probably guilty of treating Burning Man like a music festival, bouncing from DJ to DJ. The best thing to do there is not that. It’s better to drop all expectations and go with the flow; that’s how you’ll find your bliss.

Burning Man is obviously off this year due to the pandemic. What are you going to miss most? And are you finding other ways to get your Burning Man fix?

Yeah, it’s a big gaping hole right now. I keep thinking, “Normally this time of year, I’d be planning and packing and checking in with my campmates.” I’m going to miss my friends, the art, and a vacation that is pure escapism and a reset of daily life.

But people have been having a surprising amount of fun in the VR version, I hear! There are eight Multiverses and more than 100 interconnected worlds of art and activity. It’s for sure not a replacement for the real thing, but it sounds like it is giving people a bit of the playa magic they need right now.

What has Burning Man taught you about community?

So much! Burning Man is governed by the 10 Principles. They set the tone for the community, not just at the event in Nevada but around the world, online, etc.

It’s also shown me the importance of rituals to bring a community together. Those rituals can be within my own family or camp, or they can be things that the entire city attends, like the burning of the Man on Saturday night and the burning of the Temple on Sunday.

There are also a million ways to participate, which is key. So whether you want to build an art car or a massive sculpture, or volunteer at the Center Cafe or Playa Info, or just serve free lemonade at your camp, there is no shortage of ways to get involved and add your own special sauce to the community.

I know you take your kids. What do you think they’ve learned or observed or absorbed from their experiences?

I think they see it as a differentiator and realize it’s a unique experience to go to this crazy, hot, surreal place. I love that they see adults acting like kids again; everyone is in a state of play. I hope that they see that anyone can be an artist, and that a lot of fun can be had with no screens in sight. I know they are more conscious about picking up litter; the Leave No Trace principle has trained them well.

Okay, this is a less fun question, but I think it’s an important one: There’s some controversy, specifically over the gathering being taken over by people with tons of money (it costs quite a bit to attend, yeah?). And last year (2019) there were also reports of arrests and sexual assaults. What’s your take on all this as someone who’s attended for many years?

Remember that Burning Man is a city of 70,000 and so in any gathering of that size you will get some unsavory behavior. While those incidents are unfortunate, the city runs remarkably well for being a pop-up in the desert.

It is true that when you add up all costs, Burning Man can be an expensive endeavor, and that fact alone excludes people from participating. There is also a lot of generosity on display. The experience is what you make it.

What are the biggest misperceptions about the festival?

Well, first of all, that it’s not a festival! It’s a common slip, but it’s a completely different kind of experience — there are no stacked rosters, nothing for sale (except ice and coffee), no trash cans, and no spectators.

It’s also not just one event! Black Rock City is the name of the biggest one in Nevada, but Burning Man itself is a global network in 37 countries, with dozens of regional events that take the culture and make it their own.

So thinking about this gathering, as someone who’s never been, I wonder if it compares to Woodstock. Does it? Or is it its own thing entirely?

I would say it’s its own thing entirely. You won’t find anything else like it on Earth.

Did you grow up in a strong community?

I grew up in New York City in 70s and 80s and it was a time when during Halloween you’d be afraid of razor blades in apples. So, no, I can’t say it was strong. It was an each to their own type of environment.

Moving to California was the turning point for me in terms of community. I started to get involved with Burning Man and saw what it takes to forge authentic connections with people around a shared set of values. Physically working together to build something, like a camp or art car, really helps strengthen that sense of communal effort.

Also, when I became a parent, my friend group exploded. I have a really rich community of (mostly) moms now. I don’t think I would have met all these women if not for the kids.

Oh, and music has been another spark for building community for me. It’s given me a common language with which I can speak to other people with whom I might not otherwise have much in common. For example, funny story: a friend and I were going to a concert and we were talking to our Lyft driver and he said he’d never been to this type of concert, so we took him.

Ha! Now that’s some community building there. What’s something you want people to know about Burning Man?

There is a sense of fun and mischief throughout the event and the organization itself (I worked there for over four years, mostly as a volunteer). And that’s a great lesson, too, for people overall: don’t take yourself too seriously.

And finally, any “secrets” to community building you can share?

Setting the tone is incredibly important. And then making sure you have rituals or ways for everyone to participate. Consistency is half of it. You have to show up every single day. And, finally, listening is huge. You have to listen to your community.

For more on what we can learn from Burning Man, check out this video titled, In Pursuit of Happiness: Black at Burning Man which further illuminates what it means to people. This quote at 9:55 stands out:

“Burning Man is all about understanding more possibility: How can my life be bigger? How can I dream bigger? How can I see things bigger? If someone can make a 20 foot tall art car, what can I do in the world? And in a way, it offers the opposite approach to living than racism does. It helps you understand that your thinking and your living can be bigger than they are.”