To the editor:
A 2025 American Psychological Association poll on loneliness found that more than half of U.S. adults reported feeling isolated from others at least half of the time. There are many causes of this deepening isolation, but much of it can be linked to the concerns Robert Putman raised in his 2000 book, Bowling Alone. If I were to describe this using an African proverb, I would say our societies reflect an ostrich camp with everyone’s head buried in the sand or on our phones. Putnam’s book bemoaned the decline of community ties in towns like our own Wellesley where, ever so slowly, people no longer know their neighbors and the sense of community is dwindling. And yet, in an unlikely corner of the town of Wellesley a community has taken root—inside the Orangetheory Fitness studio on Central Street.
When I moved to Wellesley in 2019 to start my job as a professor of Africana Studies, I did not know what to expect. The town was/is the most affluent town I have ever lived in. Having read Putnam’s work in graduate school, I anticipated that I might encounter some of the declining community ties he described. As a black woman still recovering from moving from Atlanta to New England, I had little hope that I would build a community. I was wrong, and I have never been so glad to be wrong. I built a strong community at our church, the Village Church. We have an excellent children’s program, and I hope more folks join us.
This letter, though, is not about our church. My most vibrant community was found in the most unlikely place: my gym, Orangetheory Fitness (OTF), on Central Street. It’s hard to miss with its orange signs. I have tried every gym in town, and although I have found each place warm and welcoming, I have never seen a community like the one at Orangetheory. What we’ve built there is the kind of community Putnam dreamed to see revived.
There’s a guy named Michael C. who talks to everyone…I mean everyone. If he spots you outside of the gym, Michael is always quick to say hello. I think he might be a hedge fund guy because he takes two classes a day. Not knowing is what makes Orangetheory special. With the possible exception of college faculty and physicians, people rarely lead with their occupations. I have developed real connections with people I likely would never have met or talked to otherwise. Among my new friends are a passionate mom who runs an annual blood drive for folks with rare illnesses. A local teacher who has worked in our school district for over two decades and willingly shares tips on best strategies for supporting small children in an ever-evolving technology world. A local business owner who is always looking out for others in the gym and is quick to advise on correct technique. In another context I would find such aid invasive, but OTF has curated a world in which we welcome guidance from strangers.
In February 2026, I held my first book tour event for my book on the dangers of Voter Exit at Wellesley College. It was the first event at the college where I saw so many community members engaged and at ease. The room was packed. We ran out of chairs, and our students improvised by perching on windowsills. From my author’s seat, I saw many of my church friends. I expected them to come. I hadn’t expected so many of my Orangetheory friends to show up.
My friend Susan, a mom of four, whom I regularly exchange smiles with but have yet to share coffee or lunch, was engaged in conversation with a college friend. I saw the teenage children of a new friend who had recently moved to the U.S. from Australia. Later, our college president remarked that events that bring our communities together are important, especially today when the world is so deeply polarized.
I teach and write about the importance of dialogue across political divides. And yet, I love that I know very little, if anything, about the political preferences of my friends at OTF. I do know that many of them are good and decent people. If someone misses too many classes, people check in. When I experienced a medical emergency, the studio texted to check in on me and to assure me that they would freeze my account until I could return. It is the only place where I don’t think about my being a black woman. I am well aware of how difficult it can be for minorities to find communities. At OTF, all that matters is whether I start on the treadmill or the rower. I am on rower number 7. Always.
At OTF, we work hard, but we also laugh and connect. This is rare, and it is special. I am really sad that our gym, and our community might shut down because it is too expensive to operate here. If, as a town, we value places that build community and bring us together, then perhaps the town should invest in making it more accessible and affordable for businesses to stay. They might not look fancy on the outside, but they give our communities something more valuable. Bookstores are a constant reminder to us and our children that reading matters. Small family-owned ice cream stores teach our children the importance of hard work and a vision that anchors communities. If we don’t fight to save places like Orangetheory in Wellesley, then, in years to come, communities may need to spend millions addressing the problems and challenges that come with deepening isolation.
I have doubts that my single essay will change things. As my husband reminded me, decisions have been made, building maps redrawn etc, etc. However, I am a person of faith. I believe that closing does not have to be inevitable. There may still be time to explore alternatives. Could a modest increase in membership prices make it financially sustainable—and, if so, would members be willing to pay it? Could the property owner offer lease terms the studio can sustain? Could Orangetheory move to a less expensive location nearby? Could town leaders help the owners identify another suitable space? I do not know which of these options is best, but the absence of an easy answer should not become an excuse for doing nothing.
I am well aware that, given the many complexities and hardships in the world, it may seem petulant to worry about a gym closing. One might even argue that this betrays a lack of global awareness. However, there is room, even in these difficult times, to advocate for small joys. A business’s contribution to our town cannot be measured in revenue alone. There must also be room for places that generate human goodness. We have a lot to be grateful for, including the town library, Wellesley Books, Trullys, and our parks. Orangetheory is an unlikely place to cultivate community, and yet it has done just that. Let us not wait until its doors close to decide that it mattered. Let us act now—not just to save a gym, but to preserve one of the places where strangers in Wellesley still become neighbors.
Hoping for a miracle,
Chipo Dendere
OTF member with 240 classes, a mom, wife and local professor
