Episode Summary

“I really struggled to relate to people at school because the conversations that I was hoping to be able to have with my friends were about the things that were going on outside the school gates... But what I love about finding the collective is that it’s given me permission to imagine another way of doing things, and that it really has felt like a real homecoming.”

Ellie Meredith is 19 years old. She’s a Community Cultivator at Re-Action Collective, co-organiser of Shrewsbury’s Climate Café, and the protagonist of a 25-minute documentary called ACTionism that’s currently screening in living rooms, pubs, libraries, and coworking spaces across the world.

But two years ago, she was crawling inside herself, overwhelmed by climate anxiety, trapped in a classroom where nobody wanted to talk about the things that actually mattered.

The shift came from two questions. Not from a therapist. Not from a careers advisor. From Jon Alexander, whom she’d emailed after reading his book about citizenship.

He asked, "What gives you joy?" And where does that joy meet the work that needs doing in the world?

Those questions cracked something open. Within weeks, she’d met the crew at Re-Action Collective—a grassroots organisation challenging the outdoor industry’s throwaway culture by teaching repair, running gear rental schemes, and making the outdoors accessible to people who’ve been priced out. She’d found her people. She’d stopped trying to save the planet alone.

This conversation isn’t just about Ellie’s journey. It’s about what coworking spaces can do with a 25-minute film, a room full of chairs arranged in a circle, and an invitation to dream together about what could happen next in your community.

Bernie and Ellie walk through the mechanics of hosting a community screening—how to avoid the tumbleweed moment after the credits roll, why repair workshops and art supplies work better than Q&As, and what actually happens when you give people permission to imagine differently.

If you’ve ever wondered how to use your space for something deeper than hot-desking, this is the blueprint. Find your people. Host a screening. See what begins.

Timeline Highlights

[01:14 ] Bernie sets the frame: this is about getting like-minded people in your coworking space, watching something together, and having intentional conversations afterwards

[02:21 ] Ellie’s realisation: “Do you know how much of a life fluke that is?” — finding your people quickly after leaving school

[02:35 ] “I was feeling quite lost at sea and fairly lonely. I really struggled to relate to people at school because the conversations I was hoping to have were about things going on outside the school gates.”

[04:21 ] The origin of Ellie’s climate concern: volunteering with Shropshire Wildlife Trust, watching flooding happen more and more, seeing nature collapse on her doorstep

[07:51 ] Bernie’s question about neurodiversity: Does feeling things more deeply make the horror worse when you see a flood?

[09:09 ] “Being neurodivergent certainly adds another level of complexity to the read that I have on the world.”

[10:19 ] How ACTionism works: community screenings in living rooms, pubs, libraries, anywhere people gather—not on streaming platforms, not touring cinemas

[12:37 ] Bernie asks the hard question: how do you avoid the awkward silence after showing a film?

[14:25 ] The circle method: sit everyone in a big circle, including the filmmaker, so it’s not one person answering questions but the whole room having a conversation

[16:04 ] What happens after screenings: dreaming activities with post-it notes, repair workshops, art supplies for visual responses

[19:09 ] Bernie: “How on Earth did you find yourself in a film?”

[21:12 ] The email that changed everything: Ellie writes to Jon Alexander after reading his book about citizenship

[24:46 ] Bernie’s main takeaway from the Conduit event: we don’t have to have all the answers

[29:00 ] Where to find Ellie: LinkedIn, and obviously the Re-Action Collective

The Neurospicy Activist Who Hated Four Walls

School was suffocating for Ellie. Not in the vague, everyone-hates-homework way.

In the specific, visceral, ‘I’m-crawling-inside-myself’ way that happens when you’re neurodivergent and the world insists you sit still in four walls whilst climate collapse is happening outside the gates.

She describes herself as a “neurospicy human”—a phrase that does more work than any clinical diagnosis could. It signals: I feel things on a different frequency.

The mounting pressure of exams didn’t just stress her out; it became too much. The conversations at school weren’t about what mattered. They were surface-level whilst floods were getting worse in Shropshire, whilst nature was collapsing on her doorstep from her volunteer work with the Wildlife Trust.

Bernie picks up on this immediately. He asks if neurodiversity exacerbates the feeling of horror when you see a flood.

Ellie’s answer: “I definitely feel things a lot more deeply than other people. My senses around it are very much heightened, and I don’t really know where to put any of that energy unless it’s part of collective action.”

This is the heart of why ACTionism matters for coworking spaces. Your members aren’t all neurotypical. They’re not all processing climate anxiety, economic precarity, or community collapse in the same way.

But many of them are feeling it deeply, and they don’t know where to put that energy. The solo mission to save the world—buying a reusable cup, recycling properly—feels joyless because it is. It’s action without connection. It’s doing something to feel less helpless, not because it actually changes anything.

Ellie found the outlet she needed when she found Re-Action Collective. Not because they had the answers, but because they gave her a crew. People who cared about the same things. People who were doing something together, not alone.

Two Questions That Rerouted Everything

After leaving school, Ellie emailed Jon Alexander. She’d read his book about citizenship—stories of ordinary people doing extraordinary things—and it cracked something open. She wasn’t expecting much back. Maybe a thumbs up. Maybe nothing.

Instead, Jon invited her to London. They sat down together, and he asked two questions:

* What gives you joy?

* Where does that joy meet the work that needs doing in the world?

Those questions are deceptively simple.

They’re not: What do you want to be when you grow up? Or what’s your five-year plan? They’re citizen questions, not consumer questions. They assume you have agency. They assume the world needs what brings you alive.

Ellie’s answer: she loved being outside, volunteering with the Wildlife Trust, and she wanted to do more with other people in her community.

Jon made the connection to Re-Action Collective, a grassroots organisation in the French Alps working on circular economy solutions for the outdoor industry.

Two years later, she’s a Community Cultivator there, and her journey is the spine of a documentary being screened in hundreds of communities worldwide.

For coworking operators, this moment is instructive. The most valuable thing you can offer your members isn’t faster WiFi or better coffee.

It’s the connection between what gives them joy and the work that needs to be done. Sometimes that connection happens in a casual hallway conversation.

Sometimes it happens because you hosted a film screening and someone realised they weren’t alone.

Jon Alexander didn’t solve Ellie’s climate anxiety. He asked better questions. Your coworking space can do the same.

Community Screenings as Civic Infrastructure

ACTionism isn’t on Netflix.

It’s not touring cinemas.

It’s moving through the world via community screenings—living rooms, pubs, libraries, coworking spaces.

Anywhere people can gather with open hearts and curious minds.

This is intentional. The film is designed to be a conversation starter, not a consumption experience. You request a screening kit, pay what you feel (they suggest £100 to keep the magic going), and host it wherever makes sense for your community.

* The guide Ellie wrote walks you through it.

* The film itself is 25 minutes.

* What happens afterwards is where the work begins.

Bernie asks the operator’s question: How do you avoid the tumbleweed moment? You show something. You ask for questions. Silence.

Ellie’s learned from organisations like 99p Films in Cornwall, who’ve turned community screenings into a ritual: communal feast, mindful breathing, film, then discussion. But the key shift is the circle.

Don’t stand at the front like you’re answering questions from an audience. Sit in a circle with everyone else. Let the person next to someone speak first, so others gain the confidence to join in.

The screenings that work best don’t end with Q&As. They end with action. Some communities do “wouldn’t it be wonderful if...” dreaming activities—stack post-it notes with ideas, then figure out together how to make one happen.

Others run repair workshops, teaching darning or visible mending whilst people chat. Some bring out art supplies and let people respond visually, because words don’t always reach the places that need reaching.

For coworking spaces, this is plug-and-play civic infrastructure.

* You already have the room.

* You already have the chairs.

* You already have members who care about their community but don’t know how to move from caring to doing.

* A 25-minute film and a facilitated conversation can be the