Joy, Belonging, and Basketball

Guest Post: Amy, Program Officer

At the St. Joseph Fund, we often talk about healing as something that happens through relationship and the people, places, and memories that help us feel connected. Our work is rooted in love because we believe vibrant communities are built not only through systems change but also through connection, joy, and the everyday sources of care that sustain us.

We sat down with Amy, our Program Officer, who is deeply connected to our healing initiatives, and she shared how she found joy and a sense of belonging in her youth.

Growing up, the Seattle Supersonics were my life.

From around 1994 until the day they left Seattle, I don’t think I missed a single game. When they left, I grieved without knowing I was grieving. I eventually stopped watching basketball for years because nothing felt the same.

As an adult, I realize the Sonics were never just a basketball team to me. They were joy. They were connections that brought me closer to my brother and my dad. In my childhood, I didn’t always have access to hobbies, sports, or after-school activities, so the Sonics became my hobby and part of my identity.

I clipped photos of players from the newspaper and used money from my after-school job at Baskin-Robbins to secretly order cable so I could watch games. And one time, I remember walking all the way to the Chinatown International District, in the rain, to watch games at my grandpa’s assisted living home because they had cable there.

That was how deep my love for the team was and how connected I felt to it.

Middle school and high school were hard. I experienced bullying, racism, and the kind of isolation that, as a kid, you don’t always have language for. Watching Basketball games gave me respite. For a few hours every other night, I could focus on something else. The game also gave me confidence because it was something that I understood, and my knowledge set me apart from others.

The Sonics were bigger than just me.

I also remember how deeply the Sonics were connected to the community. In school reading programs, if we logged enough reading time, we could earn tickets to a game. At those games, we’d get pizza and soda. As a kid, that felt like everything. It made reading exciting and connected me to a bigger community of super fans.

Today, as conversations intensify about bringing the Sonics back, I feel both excitement and tenderness. I know it won’t be the same. That childhood connection can’t be recreated. But I also know how powerful it is when people, places, and institutions create spaces of joy and connection.

At the St. Joseph Fund, we talk about resourcing relational work — not just isolated programs or siloed focus areas, but the relationships, connections, and community conditions that help people heal and thrive. My story reminds me that joy is not extra. It is part of healing and what brings a constellation of networks together. It is part of how communities find their way back to one another. That’s how movements can begin.

 

Thank you, Amy, for sharing your story and your love of the team and the game. Throughout the summer, we will be sharing more stories of joy from our executive team. If you aren’t already, please sign up for our Rooted In Love newsletter to share in our joy.