IVN is joined by Nate Allen, founder and Executive Director of Utah Approves, to discuss Approval Voting and his perspective on changing the incentives of our elections.
Podcast: Seeking approval in Utah


IVN is joined by Nate Allen, founder and Executive Director of Utah Approves, to discuss Approval Voting and his perspective on changing the incentives of our elections.
In early September, the Make America Healthy Again (MAHA) Commission released a 19-page strategy to improve children’s health and reverse the epidemic of chronic diseases. The document, a follow-up to MAHA’s first report in May, paints a dire picture of American children’s health: poor diets, toxic chemical exposures, chronic stress, and overmedicalization are some of the key drivers now affecting millions of young people.
Few would dispute that children should spend less time online, exercise more, and eat fewer ultra-processed foods. But child experts say that the strategy reduces a systemic crisis to personal action and fails to confront the structural inequities that shape which children can realistically adopt healthier behaviors. After all, in 2024, the National Academies of Science, Engineering, and Medicine updated Unequal Treatment, a report that clearly highlights the major drivers of health disparities.
Debbie Gross, a child psychiatric nurse and professor at Johns Hopkins School of Nursing, welcomes the administration’s stated focus on children’s health but notes the gap between ideas and implementation. “The ideas in it are good, but it’s all about how this is going to be executed,” she said in an interview with The Fulcrum. “The devil is in the details. The change this MAHA strategy seeks is at the community level. Who are the people you are bringing to the table?”
So far, the people sitting at the table endorse the ideological views of the U.S. Health and Human Service Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr—notably vaccine skepticism and regulatory rollbacks——rather than a cross-section of representatives from communities with the highest disease burdens.
The MAHA commission, created by President Trump in February 2025, is dominated by officials who toe the party line, from National Institutes for Health Director Jay Bhattacharya to Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins, founder of the America First Policy Institute. This conservative think tank promotes a vision of America based on pronatalist, anti-immigration, and free speech policies. Gross hopes representation will broaden during implementation.
But experts warn that the administration’s rhetoric about improving children’s health often runs counter to its policy choices. In a press release that accompanied the report, Secretary Kennedy framed MAHA as a sweeping, cabinet-wide mobilization. “This strategy represents the most sweeping reform agenda in modern history,” he said. “We are ending the corporate capture of public health… and putting gold-standard science—not special interests—at the center of every decision.”
Yet the strategy largely sidesteps the social determinants of health, the conditions in which people live, work, and learn that drive health outcomes far more powerfully than personal choice. Speaking with The Fulcrum, Aviva Musicus, Science Director at the Center for Science in the Public Interest, notes that the report focuses heavily on individual responsibility while ignoring the systemic barriers that shape those daily decisions.
“Notably absent from the MAHA strategy report are strategies to address inequities and health disparities,” says Musicus. “The idea is that if we educate people, they will have the resources to take action and become healthier. The reality is that structures and systems affect our health far more than the individual decisions we make daily. Those individual decisions are a direct result of structures and systems. If you don't change the structure, you're not going to change overall health.”
Even where the MAHA strategy acknowledges environmental and behavioral harms—chemical pollutants, the role of technology—it proposes no corporate regulatory oversight. Deregulation only applies to what is perceived as government “interference.” Meanwhile, experts point out that many actions taken by the administration actively undermine the strategy’s stated goals, undermining some of the objectives laid out in the strategy. Cutting food assistance that low-income families rely on, loosening rules on pesticides linked to health risks and advancing policies that restrict access to nutritious foods.
“This administration's actions are making America hungrier and sicker,” says Musicus. “The negative impacts will be disproportionately felt by those with the lowest incomes. Stripping millions of Americans from their health insurance coverage and cutting SNAP will increase health inequities.”
The Administration’s recent decision to eliminate more than 3,800 research grants—totaling roughly $3 billion—for studies on cancer, health disparities, neuroscience, and other areas essential to children’s health further complicates MAHA’s ambitions.
In July, Gross wrote to Secretary Kennedy, urging the establishment of a dedicated agency for children within the NIH, analogous to the National Institute on Aging. She never received a response, despite the alignment with the administration’s stated priorities.
“We spend so much more money on adults than we do on children, but prevention in children costs a lot less,” says Gross. Many unhealthy behaviors, she noted, stem from corporate incentives that discourage improving food quality. “We've got a Secretary of Health who says we must prioritize healthy foods and children in schools. Meanwhile, we've got a Congress that wants to cut those programs financially. So, the question to Secretary Kennedy is how are you going to lead this in this environment?”
Gross also emphasized the essential role of nurses, often the frontline professionals, helping families build healthier lives. Yet the administration has moved to classify nursing as a non-professional degree, limiting financial support for students despite a national nursing shortage.
To meet the MAHA moment, Musicus says her organization is focusing on three priorities: holding leaders accountable for actions that undermine public health, mitigating the damage through litigation and by opposing key appointments, and articulating a proactive vision for an equitable food system. “It’s not enough to play defense,” she said. “We need to provide policymakers with an evidence-based roadmap for what true food system transformation would look like.”
The question is whether those in charge are willing to listen.
Beatrice Spadacini is a freelance journalist for the Fulcrum. Spadacini writes about social justice and public health.
This article explores practical, citizen‑driven strategies for reforming the Senate filibuster, breaking down how everyday people—not just lawmakers—can influence one of Congress’s most powerful procedural tools. It explains why the filibuster has become a barrier to passing widely supported legislation, outlines the mechanics behind reform efforts, and offers hands‑on actions that advocates, organizers, and community members can take to push for a more responsive and functional democracy. The piece frames filibuster reform not as an abstract procedural debate but as a concrete pathway to strengthen majority rule and expand democratic participation.
#1. Deep Dive - Reforming the filibuster
Sen. Jeff Merkley has waged a crusade to reform the Senate filibuster. Source: Los Angeles Times
Ever since co-founding FairVote, I’ve heard talk of reforming the U.S. Senate filibuster, from Action, Not Gridlock in a 1994 campaign spearheaded by Democrats to Donald Trump’s Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent writing in the Washington Post last month. In 2005, the Cato Institute’s David Boaz lifted up the pattern of flip-flopping on the issue, with the partisan minority typically embracing their power to block the majority, and the last 20 years have provided much more fodder for those reversals based on which party runs the Senate.
But here’s the thing: 51 votes should decide our most important statutory policy issues, just as they do in the U.S. House, nearly every state legislative chamber, nearly every international legislature, and nearly every use of initiative and referendum. The frustrated majority is correct that the American people lose faith in democracy when uncompromising partisan minorities deny action on mandates from an election.
That said, there's an equally strong case for embracing what the Senate can do well - create space for substantive debate, individual improvements to legislation, and true cross-partisan negotiation, learning, and compromise. Senate committees have a history of truly bipartisan development of legislation, allowing more votes on constructive amendments can improve bills, and slowing votes to hear from more voices can avoid mistakes in the spirit of Henry Fonda’s critical role on the jury in the classic movie 12 Angry Men.
I’m from a Quaker tradition, where decisions are made by consensus - a process of seeing unanimous support that depends on dialogue, listening, and recognition of when to step aside to allow an action you oppose. In formal Quaker deliberations and countless organizational and family meetings, I’ve seen how that process yields better outcomes than ramrodding through what the majority initially wants to do.
The Senate must make decisions, of course, and it isn’t going to work by consensus. But I would encourage Senate Democrats who have sought to end the filibuster to join with those in the Republican majority to reform the filibuster in a way that balances making final decisions with 51 votes with rules that encourage deliberation and enable improvements. Let’s start with what Scott Bessent wrote in the Washington Post:
The filibuster is not in the Constitution. The Framers envisioned debate, but they expected majority rule. The modern filibuster traces back to 1806, when the Senate, on the advice of then-former vice president Aaron Burr, deleted the “previous question” motion from its rulebook. That deletion wasn’t a philosophical embrace of unlimited debate; it was a housekeeping measure that inadvertently removed the chamber’s mechanism for cutting off debate by majority vote. Only later did senators discover they could exploit the gap to delay or block action.
In the modern era, merely threatening a filibuster typically forces a 60-vote supermajority to move legislation forward. Defenders of the filibuster argue that it ensures compromise, encourages bipartisanship, and protects minority rights. That may have been true decades ago, but it is no longer the case now. Today, the minority party can abuse the filibuster to the point of rendering the Senate almost useless as a deliberative body…
Though the filibuster no longer applies to judicial nominations, it still prevents the Senate from functioning as intended. Major legislation is now passed only through reconciliation, executive fiat or brinksmanship. The 60-vote threshold has become a convenient excuse for inaction. Both parties claim to defend “tradition.” But traditions are worth keeping only if they serve the country’s interests. The filibuster no longer does.
I agree, but let’s not make the Senate a body like the House, where the leaders of the partisan majority today are overly dominant. Those interested in filibuster reform should read the 2024 book Filibustered! by Oregon Senator Jeff Merkley and his former senior aide Mike Zamore, now with the ACLU. They artfully tell the story of the Senate's breakdown and are particularly thoughtful about reform. Zamore anticipated the book’s arguments in his 2022 Democracy Docket piece on the “talking filibuster. Here’s an excerpt:
We don’t need to touch the 60-vote threshold to cut off debate at all – we need to bring back the talking filibuster as a separate, alternative approach to finishing legislation… The path back for the Senate from today’s partisan gridlock is not to end debate by majority vote. Instead, it’s to restore the option of exhausting debate. By reinvigorating the talking filibuster and another 233-year-old rule limiting senators to two speeches on a given issue, the Senate can restore the balance that has been missing.
In other words, Senators could pass legislation with 51 votes, but only after allowing as many talking filibusters as the minority mustered under the revised rules - meaning the majority would have to prioritize what legislation to advance over a determined minority in transparent ways that would make both parties more accountable for their actions and renew opportunities for collaborative learning, compromise, and governing.
As we barrel toward the next government shutdown, where the Senate filibuster will again play a key role, this could be the time for a supermajority of Senators to come together to adopt new rules to make their body - our democracy - work as our founders intended.
#2. Spotlight - Civics as if we expected our children to be active citizens
Source: PBS
Protecting, expanding, and strengthening democracy requires work across all levels of government. It requires thinking and reinvention across electoral rules, communication tools, governing practices, and community-building initiatives. It requires efforts focused on the short-term, mid-term, and long-term. Any faltering in any of those dimensions will leave us short of where we need to be.
Investing in how we introduce young people and new citizens to our democracy is one of those long-term needs - and one that leaves far too many gaps. Carnegie Corporation recently released a detailed study, How Polarized Are We, which is well worth a read. One relevant finding stands out:
The data points to the potential of youth civics programming in reducing polarization across the country. When asked to evaluate the impact of a range of civics programming, respondents gave positive ratings to all seven. Topping the list: attending a local government meeting (87 percent), youth volunteering during elections (80 percent), and youth representation in local governance (80 percent). Despite the positive perceptions of these programs, the survey finds that less than half of local communities have such opportunities available.
That's not to say that groups aren’t doing important work. Founded by former Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor, ICivics does great work. I applaud efforts like the Model Convention 2026 that will bring together over a hundred students from universities to propose, debate, and vote on U.S. democracy reforms. Countless teachers, the largely "unsung heroes” of our democracy, go beyond what’s required to help their students think about their role in our democracy.
But what if we treated this collectively as an investment on par with John F. Kennedy’s 1961 call to put an American on the moon within the decade? At FairVote, I supported colleagues and interns lifting up a series of ideas that would be part of that investment. Here are a few of my favorite proposals:
Bring every student to the capital for hands-on learning mock legislatures: There are great programs focused on bringing students to their state capital or Washington, D.C. for presentations, mock legislatures, and observations of their legislative inaction. Rather than limiting that opportunity to a relative handful of students, some Scandinavian countries bring every student to the capital as part of months-long civic classes preparing students for their role in democracy.
Get every student registered to vote as they learn about democracy: FairVote was a leader in securing voter preregistration, which enables 16-year-olds to get on the voter rolls systematically when in school. Our bigger vision was to have systems in place so that every eligible voter is pre-registered as a government responsibility. Joining the movement for extending voting rights to 16-year-olds - already won in several cities and soon to be the law in the United Kingdom - would further a cohort of citizens voting at higher rates than those in their late teens and early 20s.
Have mock elections on what’s on the ballot - and try out different voting rules: More states and local school systems could ensure students get to vote on what’s on the ballot - and use actual voting machines and rules. As part of that learning, students could systematically explore different voting options and see how different election methods might affect their choices and representation.
Create a student seat on school boards - and let students vote on them: My home county of Montgomery County (MD) enables students in 6th through 12th grade to vote on a high school student to serve on the local school board. It also gives those student school board members the chance to vote on most of what the full board does.
There is no shortage of good ideas, of course. We instead have a shortage of government commitment and resources. Here’s to hoping for more leadership on this opportunity to strengthen democracy.
#3. Timely Links
Reforming the filibuster, hands-on civics, and timely links was first published on The Expand Democracy 3 and was republished with permission.
Rob Richie leads Expand Democracy. As head of FairVote, he created the partisan voting index, designed Alaska’s Top Four system, and advanced the Fair Representation Act, the National Popular Vote, automatic voter registration, and ranked-choice voting.

Eleven months ago, Donald Trump promised Americans that he would “immediately bring prices down” on his first day in office. Instead, the Big Beautiful Bill delivered tax cuts for the wealthy, cuts to food benefits, limits on Medicare coverage, restrictions on child care, and reduced student aid — all documented in comprehensive analyses of the law. Congress’s vote was not just partisan — it was a betrayal of promises made to the people.
Not only did Congress’s votes betray nurses, but the harm extended to teachers, caregivers, seniors, working parents, and families struggling to make ends meet. In casting those votes, lawmakers showed a lack of courage to hold themselves accountable to the people. This was not leadership; it was betrayal — the ultimate abandonment of the people they swore to serve.
What makes this betrayal even more damning is that it was foreseen. During the 2024 campaign, Joe Biden and Kamala Harris warned that Trump would do exactly this — strip relief from families and reward the wealthy. And soon after he took his oath, he proved them right. Congress cannot claim ignorance; they were warned, and still they chose silence and complicity.
Democrats listened to the people’s cries for relief. While not perfect, they stood united in opposition because they understood the harm the Big Beautiful Bill would bring to families, seniors, caregivers, and nurses. They tried to keep their promise to protect those most vulnerable from a bill designed to enrich the wealthy at the expense of everyone else.
When the Vice President cast the deciding vote, he showed his lack of moral responsibility, compassion, and empathy for the millions harmed by the bill. Vance is sponsored by billionaires. He does not care about people living in poverty, and his vote showed it. Who can Americans look to for protection when the second‑highest office in the land abandons its duty to the people?
Time and again, Congress has demonstrated that its loyalty lies with the President, not with its oath or the people it swore to serve. Speaker Mike Johnson enforced loyalty. Senators Ted Cruz, Lindsey Graham, and Tim Scott, along with Representative Jim Jordan, all advanced Trump’s mission. Republicans did not question the President’s broken promise — they supported him without holding him accountable. That loyalty was hypocrisy, because many of them once lived modestly, worried about rent, groceries, and medical bills before they had money and power. Now, insulated by congressional salaries and billionaire donors, they have forgotten what it means to struggle.
Republicans voted yes even as poverty grips their states. These are the very families most dependent on SNAP, Medicare, and child care support — programs gutted by the bill. Republicans chose loyalty to Trump over compassion for constituents, betraying citizens who are already suffering. And these statistics are reflected across the country, with the national poverty rate at 11.1%, representing nearly 37 million Americans living below the federal poverty line.
Though the decision was partisan, the harm hurt Republicans, Democrats, and Independents in red, blue, and purple states all across America. Families in every corner of the nation — rural and urban, coastal and heartland — felt the consequences. The Big Beautiful Bill did not discriminate in its damage; it stripped relief from millions regardless of party affiliation, proving that loyalty to one man came at the expense of the entire country.
While millions of Americans live below the poverty line, members of Congress earn between $174,000 and $223,500 a year. The Speaker of the House earns $223,500, and the Senate Majority Leader earns $193,400. All enjoy health benefits, retirement packages, and travel expenses at taxpayer expense. All this, plus the money they receive from billionaire donors and corporate PACs, guarantees that their immediate families never worry about housing, food, or health care. While ordinary Americans struggle to pay rent, buy groceries, or afford medical care, congressional leaders prosper — and then vote to cut the very programs that keep families afloat.
I once knew a state representative in Virginia who, despite doing well financially, had aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends who were hard‑working people — sometimes struggling to make ends meet. Members of Congress surely have similar stories they could tell if they were human enough to remember them. But instead of honoring those connections, they have insulated themselves with wealth, perks, and billionaire donors. In forgetting their own families’ struggles, they have abandoned the people’s struggles.
The dire consequences of the Big Beautiful Bill are not abstract — they are lived every day. Just this week, while it snowed in Virginia, I spoke on the telephone with my sister. She remarked how cold it was outside, but how blessed she was to be in a warm house with ample food. I told her I was concerned about people without food or shelter. She replied that there are shelters and churches, but I reminded her that shelters fill up, some people are turned away, and food supplies are scarce. People don’t want hand‑outs; they want fair opportunities and equal access — things our President has taken away. This is the essence of diversity, equity, and inclusion: ensuring that every citizen, regardless of background or circumstance, has a fair chance to thrive. Congress abandoned that principle when it passed the Big Beautiful Bill, stripping away equity and denying inclusion to the very people who needed relief most. In doing so, the BBB stamped out a pathway to the American Dream — the promise that hard work and fairness could lead to opportunity.
Accountability was abandoned the moment Congress voted for the Big Beautiful Bill. Americans were asking for relief, but lawmakers ignored the consequences to the people. They have yet to acknowledge that siding with the President was a mistake. They have done nothing to rectify the harm, nor have they justified to the public why they voted for this bill. At times, it seems Congress does not even know the meaning of accountability — because accountability builds trust, guarantees fairness, and sustains integrity. People asked for one thing — relief — and Congress gave them another: complete betrayal.
Congress’s duty is not only to legislate but to safeguard the public good. By prioritizing partisan loyalty over the needs of families, nurses, caregivers, and seniors, lawmakers abandoned that duty — betraying the trust of citizens who depend on them. Stripping nurses’ professional status devalues clinical judgment, weakens patient safety, and chills the pipeline of future providers. Cutting food benefits and child care undermines families. Reducing student aid blocks opportunity. Limiting Medicare leaves seniors vulnerable.
When elected leaders diminish the people who care for us, they diminish the country itself. If Congress can erase nurses’ professional recognition while slashing food benefits, narrowing Medicare coverage, and constraining child care, they can erase trust in public service altogether. Accountability isn’t a slogan; it is the guardrail of a functioning democracy.
Citizens must vote — register, show up, and replace leaders who betray the people; write letters, op‑eds, and petitions that call out hypocrisy and demand repeal of the Big Beautiful Bill; speak up at town hall meetings, in community forums, and directly to representatives; hold leaders accountable by asking them to justify their votes, reminding them of their oath, and insisting they repeal this bill; peacefully protest to show that betrayal will not be tolerated; and demand repeal to reverse the harm and restore fairness, equity, and opportunity.
Congress failed to hold itself accountable for the people — a great betrayal of trust. They lacked the courage to remind the President of his promise and chose silence over standing up for families, nurses, caregivers, and seniors. That silence betrayed democracy itself. What America needs now are leaders with compassion, empathy, and moral understanding. We demand that the Big Beautiful Bill be repealed. Only courage, compassion, and accountability can restore democracy — and reopen the pathway to the American Dream that Congress stamped out in ultimate abandonment.
______________________________________________________________________________
Carolyn Goode is a retired educational leader and national advocate for ethical leadership whose writing examines the three branches of government and their impact on democracy, citizens, and public trust.

He’s the kind of man you’d want as a neighbor in a storm.
Big guy. Strong hands. The person you’d call if your car slid into a ditch. He lives rural, works hard, supports a wife and young son, and helps care for his aging mom. Life has not been easy, but he shows up anyway.
He doesn’t vote anymore—because he’s convinced it doesn’t matter. In his early 40s, his entire adult life has seen unjust wars, economic crashes, shutdowns, culture wars, and endless partisan screaming. To him, the government isn’t broken; it’s rigged. Over dinner, his worldview became clear.
He thinks Trump won the 2020 election.
He’s sure all government is corrupt.
He leans libertarian and trusts almost no institution.
He is my friend. As he talked, two stories wrestled inside me:
One said, “He’s been brainwashed.”
The other whispered, “And you haven’t?”
It would be easy to diagnose him from a distance: He’s swallowed propaganda. He’s in an alt-right echo chamber. He’s been targeted by Christian Nationalist rhetoric, even though he is atheist.
There’s some truth there. He seeks out voices that confirm his belief that the government is bad. He trusts outsiders over “the establishment.” Stories of stolen elections fit neatly into his conviction that elites will do anything to keep power.
From where I stand, I see something else layered on top: media companies that profit from outrage, political operatives who stoke fear, a disinformation machine that keeps people angry and exhausted. That steals our hope for a brighter future. My instinct is not to join the outrage, but to zoom out and ask: What kind of system produces this? Who benefits when he feels this hopeless and certain at the same time?
Still, as I listened, another truth nudged me: I’m shaped by stories and systems, too.
His media diet leans independent, anti-establishment, suspicious of government. I curate mine toward analysis and civic health: people who study democracy, institutions, and polarization. I’m less drawn to fiery takedowns and more drawn to frameworks and “how did we get here so we can chart a course out?”
But my preference is also a lens.
He is primed to mistrust the government as such.
I am primed to mistrust anything that smells like strongman rule or zero-sum politics.
He looks at the same chaos and sees proof that the state is the problem.
I look and see incentives and feedback loops that are breaking trust at scale.
From the inside, both positions feel obvious. That’s the trick with “brainwashed.” It suggests there are only two types of people: the duped and the clear-eyed—and we always put ourselves in the clear-eyed group.
In truth, neither of us has access to “all the facts.” We each see through a narrow lens: shaped by experience, media, class, fear, hope—and, in my case, a strong commitment to systems-level explanations that can also become their own kind of comfort.
He’s Never Seen Government at Its Best
He hasn’t experienced a period where the government feels competent and trustworthy. He’s watched distant leaders shout and posture while his own life has remained precarious. When he says “they’re all corrupt,” he’s not trying to be edgy. He’s describing what it looks like from where he sits: working hard, struggling to get ahead, watching politicians parse words while nothing changes. From that vantage point, “the whole thing is rotten” sounds like realism. And if the game is rigged, why bother to vote?
If I focus only on his claims, I want to reach for data and court rulings. If I listen underneath, I hear:
Those feelings are not solved by fact-checking.
I did, at times, say, “That’s not true,” or “I see that differently,” especially around the 2020 election. I’m not interested in pretending conspiracy theories are just another “side.” Shared reality matters.
But I also didn’t want to turn our time together into another unwinnable debate. We changed the subject. Later, I wished I had these questions ready instead:
Questions like these could help me stay in the conversation we, as a nation, desperately need to have.
Here’s the part my ego resists: I like to think my system's view keeps me centered and unbiased, “above the fray.” I don’t marinate in outrage. I try not to have “a side” so much as a long view: What keeps a society healthy? What breaks it down? Who’s gaming the system? How do we upgrade it to something better for all?
But that, too, can become its own story:
It doesn’t.
I still choose which analyses to trust. I still lean toward explanations that fit my sense of how power and polarization work. I still inhabit a world where people with my outlook reassure one another that we are the reasonable ones. And sometimes, I use my systems overview as an excuse not to take action with friends and family.
If I refuse to see this, then “brainwashed” as a label becomes a moral insult I hurl outward instead of a human vulnerability we all share.
Maybe the more honest framing is:
The question isn’t “Are we brainwashed or not?” It’s, “Are we willing to question our own lens, comforting facts and biases as seriously as we question others?”
None of this means I abandon what I believe.
I don’t think the 2020 election was stolen.
I still believe some form of shared, accountable government is necessary.
I still see rising authoritarianism and contempt for pluralism as serious threats.
But I am experimenting with a different stance:
For him, not voting feels like self-respect in a rigged game.
For me, participation—including voting—is one way to keep systems responsive and reformable.
We’re both trying, in our own way, to protect what we love in a world that often feels like it’s coming apart.
Maybe the real divide isn’t between the brainwashed and the clear-eyed.
Maybe it’s between people who only question everyone else’s stories and people willing to question their own—and the systems that generate those stories in the first place.
My friend and I see different villains and different paths forward. But we share something: we’re both trying to make sense of a noisy, manipulative world with very human, very limited minds.
I don’t know exactly how we heal a country like ours. But I suspect it won’t start with writing each other off as lost causes.
It might begin with something smaller and harder:
That choice won’t fix our democracy overnight.
But it might keep a crack in the door—just wide enough for something more honest, more systemic, and more human to get through.
Loving Someone Who Thinks the Election Was Stolen was originally published on Debilyn Molineaux's Substack and republished with permission.
Debilyn Molineaux is storyteller, collaborator & connector. For 20 years, she led cross-partisan organizations. She currently holds several roles, including catalyst for JEDIFutures.org and podcast host of Terrified Nation. She previously co-founded BridgeAlliance, Living Room Conversations and the National Week of Conversation. You can learn more about her work on LinkedIn..