It’s cherry blossom season in the DMV (Washington DC-MD-VA), and these blossoms are a metaphor for the moment. There is a flourishing and supportive entrepreneurial community in the area that has the fertile soil needed to grow and blossom, and the people feeding the soil are steeped in mission-driven service ethics, technical and policy-driven mindsets, and the hunger to create something new from the ashes of what was burned down.

I recently graduated from the inaugural entrepreneurial cohort of Founders Rising, a business incubator for former/endangered Federal workers and contractors who are in the early stages of founding businesses, sponsored by the Maryland Women’s Business Center. The program gave me a window into many key aspects of running a business and curated some very important connections.

The final pitch competition was profound for me in a surprising way. When I entered the event, I found many women I had connected with over the past year across many contexts: fellow entrepreneurs, other members of the cohort, people I’d met through networking events, and others involved in supporting the out-of-work community. As I walked through the room, I found myself tearfully hugging many women, and I felt the power of many worlds colliding; and it struck me that I did not know a single one of these women a year ago.

As a researcher with a 30-year career, I am used to this type of joyful reunion and genuine connections within the professional research community. But it was mind-blowing to have reached this level of familiarity and care in a single year with an entirely different group. I’m repeatedly struck by the importance of these genuine connections in my professional life. I haven’t ever done it alone.

This is the warmth and sunshine.

After the darkest winter, the cherry blossoms are blooming forth in our area, and I’m struck that we are all cherry blossoms, sharing branches, soil and sun as we bloom against all odds.

The many flourishing entrepreneurial support organizations, business and nonprofit incubators, networking groups, organizations and events provide the soil for us to grow and help us develop the structure we need to flourish.

Something powerful is happening here. It’s still in the early stages, but I’m listening, present, and very excited to be a part of it.

I launched my own LLC in late December, The Community Stories and Conversation Project, LLC, built with the intention of reimaging research as a community resource. Our logo and foundation include the cherry blossoms. The LLC hosts the TCSCP (pronounced “Talk Soup”) Network for independent researchers and research entrepreneurs. We began with 20 founding members, and in our first 3 months, we have doubled in membership, become profitable beyond expectations, launched an internal Lunch and Learn series and, most importantly, begun to bring work to independent researchers.

The Network functions as an easy one-stop shop for those looking for researchers to work with. In addition to traditional research clients, we support small businesses and entrepreneurs, making research services available to new types of clients who could not engage a larger research organization. We are looking to build strategic partnerships that bring steady sources of work to our members, such as partnerships with tech ESOs supporting emerging tech entrepreneurs who would benefit greatly from having an accessible stream of user-testing researchers, or those looking to build new pipelines and connections between communities and community organizations and funding sources.

You are welcome, of course, to be a part of our movement. Join the network as a researcher, collaborate with us, support our efforts or partner with us to help build something powerful and uniquely ours.

Yesterday was the anniversary of the April Fools’ HHS layoffs that affected many of my clients and set in motion the largest career shift of my life after nearly 30 stable years of working in the research industry. I gathered with other former feds and contractors through a WellFed happy hour, and I left feeling proud of the myriad ways in which people had reinvented themselves.

When I awoke, the blossoms on the cherry tree in my yard had turned mostly green, preparing to bear fruit, and the forest behind the tree had continued to spring back to life. I can’t tell you about the harvest or the summer, but I can tell you that what I feel is hope and a palpable anticipation of whatever is to come.