
11/29/2025
2025: A Reflection from the Heart
A message from Linda Whipker, Volunteer Executive Director
As we head into Thanksgiving week, I’ve been reflecting on where we’ve been, what we’ve survived, and what comes next. The past several years have reshaped The Forge in ways none of us could have predicted, and yet the heart of who we are has stayed remarkably steady. I want to share some of that story with you today, since the next chapter is one we cannot step into alone.
Where We Started
Sixteen years ago, a small group of us saw a real gap in our community. We had youth who were endlessly curious about technology, engineering, and building, yet had nowhere to explore those interests with friends in a way that felt authentic, self-driven, and genuine. School projects weren’t enough. They wanted real conversations with people who cared about what they cared about.
From the very beginning, we were creating something that didn’t exist anywhere else. An intergenerational STEAM ecosystem where youth and adults learned side by side, where age didn’t define your role, and where belonging came before expertise. With no models to reference and no real blueprint, we were building something new. We spent years trying to put it into words, and in many ways, we are still doing that today.
We weren’t a youth program. We weren’t a makerspace. We weren’t a school. We were something in between and beyond, and the uniqueness of that ecosystem has always been both our greatest strength and our hardest thing to communicate.
The Hardest Years We’ve Ever Known
The pandemic was incredibly difficult for us. Practically overnight, the collaboration, relationships, and hands-on community that defined The Forge disappeared.
We had to leave our 12,000 square foot facility and move into a single-room 3,200 square foot space. And then in the summer of 2024, we lost our space entirely.
For almost a year, we operated out of whatever spaces we could borrow or rent:
- Rooms at the Apex Senior Center
- Activity rooms at retirement communities
- The meeting space at Dunkin’ Donuts
- Park shelters
- Google meet, Zoom, Discord
- Anywhere we could safely gather and keep the community connected.
Some families drifted away. Others held on. Our volunteers poured in more than they had to give. Through all of it, we learned just how essential a physical third space is for a community like ours. It is not just where we keep tools. It is where people feel safe exploring new skills, discovering new identities, and forming relationships that matter.
Where We Are Now
Today, we are grateful to finally be in a cozy 2,400 square foot space with a three-year lease. We painted it in vibrant colors, moved in some of our equipment, and, most importantly, we stopped moving. After four moves in a year, simply being rooted again has been healing.
But the space is also smaller than anything we have had since August 2011. It is warm and welcoming, and it has become a safe harbor for our families, including our newest FLL members. At the same time, it limits what we can offer, how many people we can serve, and how fully we can thrive in the ecosystem that has always defined The Forge.
We are rebuilding programming, membership, and momentum, but we are also carrying the lingering fatigue of a community that has weathered years of instability.
Forging Forward
We have the opportunity to move into a larger space right next door, which is roughly double the square footage of where we are now. This would allow us to expand programs, welcome more families, and rebuild the intergenerational environment that has always been our heart.
But with opportunity comes honest questions:
- How do we grow when volunteer energy and volunteer numbers are still lower than pre-pandemic levels?
- How do we sustain a higher rent responsibly?
- Do we need to finally hire a paid Executive Director to stabilize operations and reduce burnout?
- What kind of financial base do we need before we can make this leap safely?
These are real considerations. They are not obstacles, but they are not small decisions either.
What encourages me is that every time we have faced a challenge that seemed overwhelming, this community has found a way to keep going. Every time we wondered if we were reaching the end, someone stepped forward with a story, a spark, or a gift that reminded us why this place matters.
What We Believe (and What Hasn’t Changed)
Even as national funding priorities shift away from STEAM and DEI, our mission has stayed exactly the same. We believe that every person — regardless of age, background, gender, or socioeconomic status — deserves the opportunity to explore, learn, lead, and belong in STEAM.
This belief guided us sixteen years ago, through the pandemic, through homelessness, and through every move since. I am sure it will guide us forward as well.
Why It Matters
We have asked ourselves more than once whether it was time to close. And every time, someone, often a teen or a parent, said something that reminded us exactly why we can’t.
“This place changed how I see myself.”
“This community gave me confidence.”
“This is where I found belonging.”
Those moments kept us alive.
They are why we are still here.
They are why we are stepping into 2026 with hope, even after so many hard years.
Thank you for being part of this story.
Thank you for believing in a community where people of all ages can discover, explore, learn, and lead together.
With gratitude,
Linda Whipker
Executive Director, The Forge Initiative
