A few weeks ago, I sat down for Jubilee’s Surrounded and debated with 20 people who had not voted in the last election.
The cynics out there in the world tell us a conversation like the one I had isn’t worth having. That we’ve become too divided. That everyone has already chosen a side, and the only thing left to do is shout louder than our political opponents.
But that isn’t what I saw in that room. And I do not think it is true in this country. We haven’t crossed a threshold where we can no longer listen to one another or to work together.
The year that we celebrated America’s 250th anniversary, I’m struck by the fact that our nation’s story has never been one of perfection. It’s one of progress. Generation after generation, Americans have chosen to do their part in expanding the promise of this country.
That work has never been automatic. It has always required participation from people who believe that tomorrow can be better than today.
I did not go into Surrounded – or write this – to shame people who have opted out of the system.
Quite the contrary. I understand that choice.
I don’t come from a political background. When I ran for office the first time a few years ago, I had to convince many of my family members to vote for me. It’s not like we aren’t cool. They just don’t rush to the ballot box every year.
It struck me that people I love – people who cared deeply about their communities and their country – had been absent from a democratic act that generations of Americans fought for.
Somewhere along the way, they stopped believing that politics had much to do with them – or that anyone in politics had much interest in them. That realization has stayed with me. And it is exactly why I did Surrounded.
Democracy is a relationship. Those who have the privilege of serving in government share a responsibility to give people a reason to believe their participation counts. To earn their trust. To show the public that government is not something that happens to us, but something we have the power to shape. As an elected official, I take that responsibility seriously. It’s sacred, and essential.
If those of us in public office do our jobs right, then voting becomes about more than casting a ballot. It is an act of hope.
If we’re serious about strengthening democracy over the next 250 years, we cannot only invest in elections. We have to invest in one another. The work of patriotism is not passive, and it is not performative. It is service.
Real patriotism asks us to see our humanity in each other before we see our differences. It asks us to remember that the future of this country has always depended on ordinary people doing extraordinary things together – not because they agreed on everything, but because they believed this nation was worth building together, despite our disagreements.
My final challenge is a simple one: Sit down with people in your life and in your community who disagree with you. Have honest conversations. Listen. You may be surprised by what you find. And you may even end up working together to make a big difference in our world.
Elevate,
Wes
