A One-Room Schoolhouse, a Potluck, and a Blueprint for Neighboring in Rural Missouri

 

In a converted one-room schoolhouse in Thetford, Vermont, more than 40 neighbors squeeze shoulder to shoulder around a wooden buffet overflowing with goat-cheese crostini, fatback beans, and home-baked pies. Children dart between legs. Old friends embrace. Newcomers are welcomed as if they’ve lived there forever. And for a few hours each month, a community that has weathered industry collapse, population turnover, and cultural polarization becomes whole again.

This monthly potluck in the Rice’s Mills Schoolhouse has been going strong for 60 years. The December 2025 New York Times story chronicling the gathering and it reads almost like a love letter to what America used to do naturally: show up, bring a dish, talk to strangers, and create a place where everyone feels like they belong.

But the deeper lesson is not nostalgia. It’s a roadmap—one that rural Missouri is perfectly positioned to follow.

Lesson 1: A Simple, Predictable Tradition Builds Belonging

The Rice’s Mills potluck works because it is:

• Simple — Bring a plate, bring a dish, come as you are.

• Predictable — Same time, same place, month after month.

• Low-barrier — No agenda, no speeches, no membership fees.

People come because it feels familiar and safe. Older adults see longtime friends. Young families find a village. Transplants get their first foothold in community life.

We often underestimate how hungry people are for traditions, especially in a time when loneliness has become a public-health crisis. But rituals—especially shared meals—have always been the backbone of social cohesion.

Missouri’s rural communities, with their strong storytelling, hospitality, and home-cooking traditions, are primed for this kind of low-tech, high-connection model.

Lesson 2: The Building Matters—Place Shapes Behavior

The potluck happens in a one-room schoolhouse—a place designed for gathering, learning, and civic life. Its very walls communicate: “This is where we come together.”

That setting does the work that social media, city halls, or multi-purpose rooms rarely can. It feels rooted. It feels local. It feels ours.

Missouri is home to more than a hundred standing one-room schoolhouses—many still structurally sound, some already used for historical societies, small events, or seasonal meetings. These buildings are not just artifacts. They are third spaces ready to be reactivated for community well-being.

In our own Missouri Historic Schools Alliance work, we’ve seen these buildings anchor belonging, contribution, leadership, and community vitality. They are neutral ground. They are shared heritage. And they are often centrally located in rural landscapes where gathering places are few.

Lesson 3: Shared Work Strengthens Community Muscle

In Vermont, the schoolhouse is cared for through sweat equity—renovations done by neighbors, not contractors. Someone paints the walls. Someone fixes the roof. Someone installs Wi-Fi. Someone slices pumpkins for pies.

That collective investment builds civic muscle. When people help maintain a place, they feel ownership of the community that gathers inside it.

In Missouri, this is exactly how many historic schools still exist at all—because neighbors refused to let them fall. Those same neighbors, and a new generation of residents, could turn these buildings into engines of connection:

• Monthly or quarterly potlucks

• Farm-to-table dinners

• Barn quilt classes

• Intergenerational learning nights

• Rotating “neighbor skill-shares”

Each event becomes a thread in a stronger social fabric.

Lesson 4: Multi-Generational Interaction Is the Secret Sauce

One of the most striking scenes from the VT potluck is the moment when newcomers—young teachers who had recently moved into town—found themselves marching in the local Labor Day parade within weeks, banging trash-can lids as part of a ragtag neighborhood band.

This is what sociologists call weak ties and bridging capital—connections outside your immediate bubble that lead to trust, opportunity, and community resilience.

In Missouri, where communities often skew older or younger depending on region, intentional multi-generational design matters. Potlucks, crafts, and parades are natural intergenerational equalizers.

One-room schoolhouses historically served this purpose—they were the center of civic learning, social events, elections, spelling bees, and town meetings. They can serve it again.

Lesson 5: Adapt the Tradition—Don’t Freeze It in Time

The Rice’s Mills gathering almost faded a decade ago, when most regulars were in their 60s and 70s. So organizers made strategic pivots:

• Added family-focused activities

• Invited younger households personally

• Empowered new leaders

• Updated the building without losing its soul

The result? A thriving cross-section of the whole town.

Missouri communities can do the same. Rural leaders often fear that young families “won’t come.” But people show up for events that meet their needs: childcare-friendly, casual, recurring, and welcoming.

Why Rural Missouri Is Perfect for This Model

Missouri already has the ingredients:

• Historic schoolhouses waiting for new purpose

• Strong food traditions

• Deep place loyalty

• A hunger for connection (validated by your State of Neighboring research)

• Small towns where neighbors still matter

A monthly schoolhouse potluck can function like a micro-revival of civic life, building belonging while strengthening local identity.

This approach fits naturally into:

• Missouri Good Neighbor Week celebrations

• Engaged Neighbor Programs

• Historic preservation work

• County Extension efforts to build civic muscle

It is scalable, replicable, low-cost, and rural-friendly.

An Invitation: Missouri Potluck Nights at Our One-Room Schools

Imagine a map of Missouri dotted with revived one-room schoolhouses—each hosting a regular potluck that:

• Welcomes newcomers

• Reduces loneliness

• Builds trust

• Revives community traditions

• Supports local farms and cooks

• Connects generations

• Strengthens rural identity

• Honors the legacy of the schoolhouse as civic space

These gatherings would not be nostalgic reenactments. They would be modern practices of belonging—exactly what our communities need now.

Conclusion: A Lesson Hidden in Plain Sight

The New York Times story is not just a curiosity from New England. It is a reminder that connection is not complicated. We do not need new technologies, large budgets, or elaborate programs.

We need a building.
We need a table.
We need each other.

And in Missouri, especially in our rural counties where one-room schoolhouses still stand ready for their next chapter, the path forward might look exactly like it did 100 years ago—neighbors carrying casserole dishes through a wooden doorway, stepping inside, and remembering that community is something we build with our own hands.

Written by David L. Burton

MORE INFORMATION

Take the Engaged Neighbor pledge and become part of a movement! The pledge outlines five categories and 20 principles to guide you toward becoming an engaged neighbor. Sign the pledge at https://nomoregoodneighbors.com. Individuals who take the pledge do get special invitations to future events online and in person. Contact the blog author, David L. Burton via email at dburton541@yahoo.com or burtond@missouri.edu. You can also visit his website at https://engagedneighbor.com.