The Journey of Community Building
By Kasey, co-founder of PM Hive (Vancouver’s Product Community) & co-organizer of Vancouver Tech Week
There wasn’t a spec of blue above as I drove past the Pacific Highway border from the US to Canada when I decided to make my career move back to Vancouver from Seattle in late 2023. A cloudy storm was brewing, and even with streetlights outlining the road, the lack of natural sunlight dampened the mood of my ride.
It was your typical West Coast winter image, which many are perhaps familiar with. Those living in the area are constantly drowned by grey winters, and a typical thought could be: a beautiful day to relax indoors with Netflix, not go out and make connections. Right?
*🦗*
Okay, is that just me?
Regardless, the goal was to return to Vancouver, make some connections, write on the side, and call it a day. Running tech events in the city wasn’t even on the agenda; I mean — what was in it for me anyway? At that point, my diary — including my entire Vancouver chapter — was still blank.
When I lived in Seattle for two years before moving back, my life was mainly focused on work and writing. I was a homebody in a sense; my rare days of stepping out were usually rewarded with zero sunlight, and to top it off, my social battery was constantly drained, despite barely any actual socializing. It was an odd time. Life was like trekking through a labyrinth that depleted your energy the moment you took even the smallest step forward in the maze.
Instead of communities, my interests originally lay in building products — I shared (and still do think about) your typical entrepreneurial dream which some may resonate with: creating a product from 0 to 1 with an early-stage team, launching it to solve a problem I’d be passionate about, and making a successful founder exit. It’s partially why I’m also a product manager; the skills I’d develop would set me up for increased chances of success one day.
In my first week since returning, my head stayed laser-focused on my new PM role at Planview. I gave a customer presentation about my product on my second workday (don’t worry, I asked for it), and two days later, another hour-long demo on my birthday. To put it briefly: I got to work right off the bat, so my attention was stretched thin. But as the days trickled along, I felt like something small was missing from my newly established life after returning from Seattle.
It was when I one day ran into a CSDojo networking event posted on LinkedIn and Meetup that my excitement began to surface. Was this the itch I needed to scratch? 🤔
Upon arrival at the event at a downtown coffee shop, I learned of YK’s vision: to bring Vancouver’s tech scene together, and to life. This was inspiring — why would someone with a large global brand & platform want to grow Vancouver’s tech scene of all places to the point where he’d throw in-person events to organically grow the community?
Perhaps it was that question that had me returning for more: to discover why running local community events was worth his time. From one venue to the next, I kept attending tech events to refuel myself with that same energy, and soon, I developed a constant surge of momentum. Eventually, I met a few others who shared that same collective vision as YK did. First, I met Neda, Tausif, Sarim, and Anthony: a team of different people of different backgrounds who shared a passion for product management. Hence, PM Hive was born — a Vancouver-based PM community! From PM Hive’s inception onwards, my mind somehow managed to park those doubtful questions I had about community building and instead focused on growing our brand. And weirdly enough, I’ve finally arrived at an answer, but we’ll get to that soon.
Looking back, I cannot express how much gratitude and appreciation I have for my fellow original co-founders for bringing PM Hive to life. We’ve hosted almost 15 coffee chat meet-ups, 2 mini-conferences, a workshop, and a few panelist discussions to boot. All in just 10 months. Some days truly felt like living on autopilot despite the turbulence.
During this crazy time, I ran into Toki, who focused on the engineering angle of tech but shared the same dream for the city. Our conversations stretched long yet wandered all over the damn place, to which I constantly thought, What’s in it for him for running his dev community, Vancouver.Dev? Sure, we worked to realize that same end vision — but how did he know his time was worth the effort and risk? Especially after he introduced the idea of hosting a “Vancouver Tech Week,” which I recklessly joined despite being in search of that answer. And with every glance across the room at him, no matter the event, my mind never fails to wonder, dude, just where are you getting this stupid energy from?
Then, I met Sherry, who is going through a career transition into a software PM role but also perhaps shared the same sentiment as me. What madness have we gotten ourselves into? Sherry also wanted to be more involved with event management, but we were all doing this for free with our valuable time.
With that question plaguing my already chaotic list of doubts, I was finally introduced to Irem, Amy, and Raymond, fellow organizers of Vancouver’s Design Community who volunteered to help out with (or rather, join the recklessness of) Vancouver Tech Week. And just like that, all three factions of your typical product team were poetically represented through community leadership for this damn event. It was after interacting with enough community leaders — especially Irem and her humor — that I started to formulate something sensible to justify this madness.
Throughout the spring and summer, our hectic days drilled through the rocky mine of obstacles without looking back. With one event after the next, we received more gentle support from every corner of every block. More connections were being established, and more thank yous were being received. I was even invited for a coffee chat by someone to thank me since my community (PM Hive) helped land him a PM gig.
Something immense yet fun was brewing. Yes, fun.
In less than a year, the people, such as our community leaders, volunteers, or those joining our events, have given me enough reason to build communities despite the long time it took for me to realize. For that entire time, the answer sat in front of me hidden as if I missed the silver platter. And — while it continues being a subjective topic — it was simply the people.
People — never mind which city they’re from — can be inherently shy, awkward, rowdy, or somewhere in between. But one (okay, three) thing’s for certain:
- We’re all passionate about something,
- We all have something to share knowledge of with others willing to learn, and
- We’re all inherently social creatures. We want to form bonds, and we want to return home with fun memories of new friends, acquaintances and laughs.
Combining social beings under a common interest or passion to build bonds, make connections, and share knowledge is what a community is there for in terms of value, and a community builder has to understand that above all else. This sounds like common sense! Yet for me, I didn’t pick this up until Vancouver Tech Week commenced in September🤦🏻.
Of course, being involved in the community space involves a myriad of challenges. The typical problems that stem from event management creep into community building, but from my experience, some issues specific to community growth can also hit you in the form of curveballs. This can include working with different personalities who share that vision with you or managing guests, facing “competition” against other similar communities, attendee retention, or dealing with stakeholders/guests who don’t express the same respect for yourself or others. Politics can lay under the shining light of a vibrant community, and that’s natural, because the whole concept of community is fundamentally based on the people, and people stem from all sorts of backgrounds and expectations, alongside a wide spectrum of communication preferences. A universal challenge that will never make any community perfect, and that’s okay. Competition should also be healthy and friendly; we’re not fighting for money, we’re all trying to help others build stronger connections.
Looking back after a year of growth, the concept of building communities can still be a blur at times. What does it truly entail? Does it mean we help people find jobs, network, make friends, find an excuse to socialize, or a mix of everything? As I continue to grow PM Hive and Vancouver Tech Week, I think I’ve peacefully concluded that it’s okay to not have all those answers. Because the moment I look back at the connections I’ve made and the outpour of appreciation I’ve received from others, I’ll sit down and get right back to work.
And, despite the headwinds I’ve faced, I think I can come to say that the people I had the pleasure of meeting, helping, and socializing with were worth the time.
After all, things don’t last forever, but those social bonds we form make that connection perpetual. People make that happen.
