The Board

Board Membership

By accepting a board, you formally agree to the following: one of a handful of handmade Tennessee black walnut charcuterie boards, issued and never sold; a quarterly meeting obligation to host at least four “Board Meetings” a year; and participation in the Annual BYOBoard Meeting Picnic. The primary objective, printed on every invitation: enhance our collective social fabric.

Membership has no term limit, but may be revoked if obligations are not upheld.

The story of the boards

It began as a way to process loss, fill a void, and find deeper connection through family. Jon's mother, Geraldine “Gerry” Marie Gravel, passed in April after a six-year journey with Alzheimer's. During those years, Jon spent a great deal of time at his parents' home in Oak Ridge, Tennessee, caregiving for his mom and supporting his dad.

Gerry was the glue of the family. She embodied Southern hospitality — effortless, generous, joyful. She planned everything, cooked incredible food, filled rooms with her smile and charisma, sparked meaningful conversations, and brought people together with ease. She was a force of love and connection.

As her presence faded, the absence she left behind was deeply felt. Jon began to realize how much of what he values — hosting, creating space, bringing people together — he learned from his mother. He saw how naturally he carried her spirit among his friends in New York, but how hard it felt to fill her role within his own family. It made him think about how many people like her quietly hold families, friendships, and communities together, especially now, when connection feels more necessary than ever.

He felt called to step up, but didn't know how to fill her shoes. He realized that strengthening his relationship with his father could be a place to start. Lee is a deep-thinking philosopher, retired minister, and lifelong woodworker. Like many men, connection often comes most easily through shared work — something for the hands to do that opens space for the heart.

The making

For years, Lee made beautiful wooden gifts for friends and family: umbrella stands, toy boxes, luggage stands, cutting boards. Jon treasured these in his Brooklyn loft, but what he really wanted were large charcuterie boards for hosting bigger gatherings. He asked his father if he would help him make some boards, and teach him along the way. Lee said yes.

Making the boards became their shared project. They worked side by side, cutting and shaping black walnut slabs — planing, sanding, drilling, sanding again, finishing carefully, wiping, oiling. Sometimes they talked. Sometimes they didn't. They were always present together.

Board Meetings

In 2023, Jon brought several boards back to Brooklyn and began inviting people over, asking them to bring things to share on the board. He and Leah jokingly called these dinners “Board Meetings,” and the name stuck. Over time, they became regular gatherings, and many people asked him to make boards for them.

In his mother's final months, Jon and Lee made eight new boards. Most were cut from the same tree, and Jon began to feel they wanted to stay connected. He imagined a picnic in Brooklyn: all the boards laid out in a grassy field at sunset, the New York skyline glowing, surrounded by dynamic friends and exceptional hosts — people who quietly help weave our social fabric. From that vision, The Board was born.

Be intentional about who is on your Board. Invite friends, chosen family, collaborators, people you know well or want to know better, or ask a guest to bring someone who inspires them that you don't know. Ask everyone to bring something for the board. Eat off the board and drop in. Don't accept surface chatter — many members use The Feast's three-question framework, created by 2025 board member and dear friend Rei Chou: What do you have an abundance of in your life? What do you crave? What would it feel like to be satisfied?