Today, PLAN spent time in conversation with the Canadian Association of Supported Employment, reflecting on something that quietly shapes most employment stories, whether we name it or not: relationships.
When people talk about “social capital,” it can sound abstract or transactional. But in practice, it’s much simpler than that. It’s friends. It’s neighbours. It’s the people who know you well enough to see your gifts, make an introduction, or say, “You’d be great at this.” In today’s job market, that kind of connection isn’t a bonus—it’s often the way work actually comes into being.
Many meaningful jobs are never posted publicly. They’re created because someone notices a person’s strengths and imagines a role around them. That kind of opportunity almost always starts with relationship. It also requires confidence—confidence that grows through being known, supported, and valued by others. When people are isolated, it’s much harder to speak about what they want, what they’re good at, or what support they need. Loneliness makes everything heavier.
The conversation also named the real barriers people face in building those connections. Segregation in our communities is still common. Ableism and low expectations shape how people are seen. Accessibility is often treated as complicated or costly when it rarely has to be. Poverty creates constant trade-offs—between transportation, food, clothing, housing, and the energy required just to show up. And systems meant to “support” people often create disincentives to work, keeping people stuck in precarity. Add to that the accumulated harm of rejection, and it’s no wonder that reaching out can feel risky.
For people working in career development, one of the most important shifts is linguistic and relational. Instead of starting with “social capital,” start with people. Friends. Relationships. Community. And when someone is isolated, asking “Who are your friends?” may be too big a leap. A gentler question is: Who do you care about, and who cares about you? Almost everyone has at least one person—and that’s enough to begin.
Community connection doesn’t start with mapping places on a page. It starts with noticing where someone already goes, who they see there, and where they might become known. A helpful question isn’t “What programs are nearby?” but “Where would you be missed if you stopped showing up?” Belonging lives in that space.
There’s also a role here for professionals to act as connectors—not by telling people to “network,” but by helping make connection possible. Inviting supportive people into the process. Making thoughtful introductions. Helping someone show up consistently in places that matter to them. This work is relational, not procedural.
And finally, it’s important to say this out loud: this is hard work. Looking for employment is vulnerable. Asking for help takes courage. When people are dealing with poverty, discrimination, or burnout, connection can’t be treated as a task on a checklist. Gentleness matters. Support matters. And so does remembering that a good life is about more than a job.
At PLAN, this conversation reinforced what guides our work every day: people build meaningful lives with other people. Employment may be part of that life—but belonging is the foundation.