“There is a crack in everything; it’s how the light breaks through.”

On the second day of the conference, I attended a breakout session focused on analyzing the varying attitudes Gen-Z youth have towards democracy. The second most prevalent attitude profiled was that of detachment: Youth are uninterested and disempowered by the current state of our democratic institutions. As a young adult myself, I understand why. We have witnessed a global pandemic, the overturning of laws protecting bodily autonomy, a public debate over the legitimacy and morality of genocide, masked kidnappings of undocumented and documented immigrants going viral on Instagram, and a White House that would rather post AI edits turning the site of a genocide into a summer resort than fund the Department of Education, all before the age of 25. What does it mean when the unprecedented becomes routine? How can one expect to change a system that has routinely exposed itself as broken?

“Chaos is an opportunity for creativity.”

Following a morning plenary session hosted by Civil Rights Movement elders, I went to a breakout session of ~30 people. In a small group activity with a leading theologian and a man visiting from a West oast-based immigrant rights organization, we outlined the past, present, and future of social organizing. While we spent a considerable amount of time discussing what was weighing us down in the present, we shifted towards seeing these cracks in the system as an illumination of what needed to be changed to develop a more equitable future. Fifteen years from now, I would love to see comprehensive sexual education taught in middle and high schools across the United States. My partner wants there to be a legitimate pathway to citizenship in the United States, not just an illusion of one. My colleague desires stronger relationships between faith leaders and activist organizations, so that when one pillar of the community works towards a goal, the other can assist. 

“When things get really hot, that’s when metal is malleable.” 

One of my favorite panels this weekend stuck out like a sore thumb. In between panels dedicated to shifting opinions within the Democratic party or confronting the rise of fascism in the far-right, stood a panel dedicated to organizing pro-democracy rhetoric in firmly rural and red areas. The objective of the presenters was not to convert Republicans into Democrats or shift the red states across the color wheel. Rather, they aimed to promote dialogue across partisan lines, create spaces for community members to outline issues that are important to them, and encourage progressive voting on bills and referendums on a local level. Oftentimes, when prompted to outline their ideals, Republican constituents described policies that looked more purple. As a retired-swing-state native myself, I related to their desire to create a government in which people can collaborate on bipartisan legislation to advance the issues that all constituents describe as impacting their daily lives: affordable housing, higher-funded public education, inexpensive child care, worker protections, and improved roads and public infrastructure, to name a few. This prompted me to consider what sorts of collaboration—across seemingly disparate ideologies, geographically distant organizations, and varying modes of activism—would be advantageous, if not outright necessary, to achieving a people-centered future. 

Heading into my second year of the fellowship, I’ll be working in a classroom without my invaluable AmeriCorps-funded peers. Many of my students will be applying to college, and for the very first time, becoming eligible to vote. No two students are the same, and yet each occurrence of our creative writing club provides a bridge over which they can view one another’s experiences with curiosity rather than condemnation. If the pen can be a sword, why not also an olive branch? 

I hope that our time together helps them not only see themselves as agents of change, but also reckon with the community they are building around them. After all, We the People is not an exclusionary title: it necessitates dialogue across differences and an understanding that maybe, no one knows the best way to make change. Local political participation, grass-roots organizing, and partnering with our neighbors could be what gets us through. And as per usual, I believe the youth will lead the charge.