The Call Is Coming From Inside the House

Sometimes it feels like our country is coming apart at the seams.

It’s easy to recognize in the sensational political headlines, but it’s also showing up in the quiet erosion of trust, connection, and shared understanding among individuals and within communities.

The consequences of that kind of polarization are real. Continuing on this trajectory could mean more fractured relationships, even less bipartisan cooperation, and possibly something more extreme.

And many of us want to do something about it.

The advice from experts is that if we want to turn down the heat, we need to cross the divide. Reach across the aisle. Talk to people we disagree with. Find common ground.

And that is good advice.

It’s also incredibly hard.

Our values aren’t casual opinions, they’re shaped over a lifetime. They’re reinforced by our families, our communities, and the media we consume. They become part of who we are. So when they are challenged, it can feel personal. 

We’re also used to getting answers quickly and want immediate resolutions. But meaningful change, especially across difference, rarely works that way.

So it makes sense that the common advice—to reach across the divide—can feel overwhelming.

Maybe the strategy to mitigate polarization isn’t to jump straight into the fire—to “us vs. them.”

Maybe we start somewhere more familiar.

With us vs. us.

The Friction Within the Fold

That kind of internal tension—the “us vs. us” we don’t always name—was on full display at the “No Kings” rallies on March 28. Like many across the country, I showed up alongside people who were united in a shared concern: pushing back against authoritarian actions, executive overreach, and “king-like” behavior by the Trump administration.

And yet, even within that shared purpose, there was plenty of difference. And disagreement.

I overheard one person say they weren’t sure they wanted to align themselves with the movement because the messaging felt anti-police.

Online, I saw a woman challenge another rally-goer for carrying a Palestinian flag. Another person wondered aloud where all these people had been for so long, while others criticized the almost party-like atmosphere.

I attended with my 88-year-old dad, and as I cheered a speaker’s strong commitment to women’s rights, my Catholic dad was turned off by her pro-abortion message.

Around us, people held signs reflecting a wide range of priorities and concerns.

And the differences didn’t just show up in signs and messaging—they showed up in how people understood the purpose of the gathering itself.

After the rally, a colleague posed a simple question: Why protest at all?

The responses were equally wide-ranging and revealing:

Some saw protests as performative—something people do to check a box.
Others described them as essential spaces for learning, strengthening commitment, and building alignment across diverse groups.
Some called them a celebration of the resistance.
Others dismissed them as ineffective, arguing for more disruptive action.
Some emphasized voting as the path forward.
Others felt we were already beyond that.

 Same general goal. Very different beliefs about how to get there.

This is where the practice begins – right here, in the difference that already exists among us.

Before “Us vs. Them,” There’s “Us vs. Us”

If we’re serious about communicating across difference, we don’t have to start with the person who feels furthest from us politically. In fact, that might be the hardest place to begin.

We can start closer to home. Within our own circles. Our own movements. Our own communities. Because the truth is: there is plenty of difference right here.

Different strategies. Different priorities. Different levels of urgency. Different lived experiences shaping how people see the path forward.

And when we notice those differences, we have a choice.

We can judge, dismiss, or distance.

Or we can get curious.

Curiosity as a Practice, Not a Compromise

Curiosity doesn’t mean compromise. It doesn’t mean abandoning your values or “meeting in the middle” on things that matter deeply.

It means asking: What’s underneath this perspective? What experiences or fears or hopes are shaping it?

It means listening long enough to understand—not just to respond.

It means being willing to stay in the conversation a little longer than is comfortable.

And yes, it means practicing.

Practice that Shit

How to practice when topics feel so loaded, even within a movement?  

Begin practicing with people you already have some trust with. People who know you. People who are more likely to stay in relationship even when it gets messy.

Then move outward, into spaces where there is shared purpose, even if there isn’t shared agreement.

Because if we can’t navigate difference within our own circles, it’s unlikely we’ll be able to do it across the widest divides.

I know this won’t land for everyone. Some might feel frustrated by the idea of slowing down or engaging perspectives they strongly oppose.

And that’s part of this too.

We are all figuring out how to show up in this moment.

But if the goal is to build something more connected, more just, more sustainable—then how we engage each other along the way matters.

So, here is my invitation: Don’t look for “the other side” today. Look around, right where you are, and ask:

• Where is the difference here?
• How might I practice showing up with curiosity instead of certainty?

That’s where the real work begins.

Need a hand staying grounded? If this feels easier said than done, check out Tool Time #3 for a simple framework on maintaining curiosity when the conversation gets heated.