06/13/2026
What if I told you that one of the most powerful tools for building stronger communities,
reducing isolation, and helping people feel like they belong is something we still treat as
optional?
It is not technology.
It is not another data center.
And it is not another leadership framework.
It is art.
We often hear that art is important because it enriches communities, supports local
economies, and beautifies public spaces. While I agree with all of that, I believe we have
been thinking about art the wrong way.
My name is Menna Abou O’llow. I am an Egyptian American artist, educator, and
community builder. I have lived in Egypt, Qatar, and now Iowa, trading the heat of the
Middle East for the unpredictable weather of the Midwest. Over time, I have come to
believe that art is community infrastructure.
When people hear the word infrastructure, they usually think of roads, bridges, schools, or
hospitals. These are the systems that help communities function. But what about the
systems that help people connect? If traditional infrastructure satisfies the baseline of
Maslow’s hierarchy of needs and keeps us safe and functional, we cannot stop there.
Communities need more than physical structures.
We are wired for the higher tiers of love, belonging, and purpose. We need what helps us
feel less isolated and more invested in the places where we live and grow. Art does that.
In the era of social media and artificial intelligence, loneliness, isolation, and
disconnection affect communities everywhere. People need spaces where they can
connect and opportunities to feel seen, heard, and valued. We need places where we can
slow down, talk to one another, and feel less alone.
Throughout history, art has helped people record their stories, preserve their cultures,
express their beliefs, and make sense of difficult experiences. Long before art was placed
inside museums and galleries, it existed in caves, places of worship, textiles, celebrations,
and everyday objects. Art has always helped people understand who they are and how they
relate to one another.
I have seen different versions of that relationship in every place I have lived.
Growing up in Egypt, I experienced art as something deeply connected to history, identity,
and our cultural collective memory. There is art on every corner. In Egypt, art is everywhere.
During my years in Qatar, I saw art used to preserve tradition while also creating space for
international exchange. I encountered it in schools, museums, exhibitions, and global art
festivals.
In Iowa, my experience has been different again. I have found art in smaller and more
personal spaces. Community programs, local galleries, artists’ studios.
Each place has taught me something different.
But wherever I have lived, art has created a way for me to connect.
As an immigrant, I have lived in Iowa for nearly ten years, and I have been away from my
home country for almost fifteen. Outside of my husband and children, I have little
extended family nearby.
As I get older, I have discovered that making meaningful connections becomes harder. I
may be surrounded by people, but that does not always mean I feel connected. Instead of
waiting for someone else to create the kind of community I was looking for, I decided to
begin with what I already had. My studio is an open invitation.
I started The Tribe at Menna’s, a small creative gathering where people come together to
do art, share stories, and be present with one another.
People come because they want a connection. They do not ask for the Wi Fi password.
They are not sitting silently on their phones. They are making things with their hands,
talking, laughing, and engaging with one another.
These experiences make me wonder whether something as simple as sitting on the floor,
sharing materials, and creating together could spark a friendship.
Unfortunately, our field often struggles to communicate this value. Arts organizations often
justify their existence through economic impact, tourism, or entertainment. While those
outcomes matter, I believe the strongest argument for the arts is much simpler.
If we want healthier communities, we need more accessible creative opportunities in the
spaces people already use. We need recurring free gatherings where people can create
without feeling like they need to be professional artists.
My vision is a future where artists are viewed not only as creatives but also as community
builders and contributors to social health.
Meaningful change does not always require a large building or a large budget.
Sometimes it begins with sitting in a circle on the floor and an invitation to belong.
When we invest in the arts, we invest in people.
And when we invest in people, we build stronger communities.
Thank you.
