From Skeptic to Volunteer: Why I Chose to Show Up

(I got to make this logo for the market!)

I’m going to be real with you, because that’s what this place deserves and it is something I am learning to feel more comfortable with the more time I spend with River Sage crew.

We’ve been through a lot out here. Between the wildfires that tear through our land and hearts year after year, the funerals, the evacuations, the heavy smoke-filled skies—we’re worn down. We show up for one another during each crisis, and still, somehow, no one seems to show up for us. No one’s replenishing our community cup.

And now, we’re seeing more suffering than ever.

People passed out on the sidewalks. Folks shooting up in public parks. We see new faces begging for booze, for relief. These aren’t just stories anymore—they’re part of the daily walk to the store. To the river. To your car.

It’s hard to talk about, but it’s real. And it’s not because this community failed—it’s because we’ve been left to carry the weight of urban migration policies that funnel people here for access to free camping and public lands, without ever investing in the systems needed to support the social fallout.

Through all of this, it’s been clear: We need something to lift our spirits. Something built for us, by us. I say this, I hear this echoed at Church. I hear it at work.

So when I first heard about this Saturday Night Market, I’ll admit—I was skeptical. Another event, another flyer, another temporary thing we’ll get excited about and then lose again. I didn’t want to get my hopes up. But I stopped by to meet with the CEO anyway, just to see what it was about. What I found surprised me.

The folks running it weren’t doing this for attention or status. They were ridiculously in love with this valley, with the land, the river, and the people who make it home. They weren’t just putting on a market—they were holding space for something bigger. Something hopeful. They encouraged wild ideas, unconventional voices, and real people like me to believe that we could build something lasting. I watched a small group of people and other behind the scenes people on the phones and chats throwing out solutions, ideas, and referals. I saw openess and some pretty hard moments that I think was fear or insecurity. But I saw people working through it all together while still answering my questions, even if April was distracted at times interupting a sentence to answer someone else's thoughts.

Someone told me the backstory of the woman behind it—April. I didn’t know her personally, but I knew of her. Heard stories from her harder years. Her addiction. The chaos. The mistakes. And then I saw what she’s doing now. What she built out of nothing. I don’t know how to explain it, but I wanted in. I wanted to be part of something that didn’t just pretend to care—I wanted to be part of this.

So I started volunteering.

Not publicly, not loudly. I choose to stay anonymous because of my job—I work with clients, and I’m not in a place where I can always be outspoken. But also because part of this work demands calling out the way bigger systems show up halfway—claiming they serve rural, checking the boxes, but never really listening or staying long enough to matter. That’s not what this market is about and that's not what River Sage is about either. I don't know that I really help that much but I feel appreciated and I feel liek I am a part of this. I am learning how to navigate things with a firm grace that I have never seen before in hard moments. I have gotten to hear how other communities feel about this and our community. I got ot hear how much people from other communities love Lake Isabella. I got to fill my cup, I got to feel so much hope!

This market is messy, it's not perfect, and still growing—but it’s ours. It was funded personally by the CEO, who doesn’t have money to throw around. It was dreamed up in a place that has been ignored by decision-makers for decades. And yet, it’s real.

The Saturday Night Market isn’t about polished booths or perfect banners. It’s about seeing your neighbor. Watching kids play. Hearing laughter. Buying handmade goods from someone who lives two streets over. It’s about trying, even when nothing has worked before. It's about gettign together and getting excited to live here again. And another volunteer did a press release that can be viewers here! It's kind of again, I think I am speechless because I see this all coming together and it is just nice, it is really nice to see a shiftm among all the loss, change, and crisis.

That’s why I show up.

If you’re skeptical, I get it. But I’d still ask you to come by. Bring your family. Sit on the grass. Share space with people who’ve lived some of your same pain, your same struggle, and still chose to build something beautiful anyway. At the least, think it is something I am speechless about to watch a nonprofit leader who has a past that seems to bring shame and guilt up who can apologize to poeple in a public space, I would say, at the least come see this because this courage is what I think represents this whole valley, so much courage and strength.

— Anonymous Volunteer, Kern River Valley