We’ve all witnessed it. The Thanksgiving table and other family gatherings turned terribly wrong. “Don’t talk about politics.” Maybe our parents told us that.
Somewhere along the way, we’ve lost the ability to have discourse over political issues with our neighbors, and even our family. We’ve all felt the divide. It’s not just a feeling you have; there’s plenty of data to back it.
A 2019 study titled, “Lethal Mass Partisanship,”found that 15-20% (around 19% of Democrats and 15% of Republicans surveyed) of Americans believed the country would be better off if “large numbers” of people from the opposing political party were to die (Kalmoe & Mason, 2019). The gravity of this finding can’t be overstated. In just a few years, polarization may have only deepened, making it critical that we focus on how we engage in politics, not only what we debate. History shows us that dehumanization paves the way for violence and no society is immune.
In an age where political divides have become personal, the story of my relationship with a colleague shows that listening and respect are powerful tools in healing divides. Shawna, a longtime colleague and friend, and I come from different sides of the political aisle—I’m a moderate Republican with libertarian leanings and she’s a liberal Democrat. Despite the polarized climate, our collaboration flourished through our commitment to understanding each other.
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When I began teaching social studies in Orleans County, NY, I made a point of keeping my views out of classroom discussions. Students, however, have a knack for picking up on things, and they quickly guessed Shawna’s and my political leanings. Nevertheless, I never confirmed these suspicions, and I made a strong effort to present all viewpoints fairly. Whenever students asked directly, I always responded by sharing multiple perspectives, rather than focusing on my own. Even though students may have sensed my leanings, I wanted to ensure that every opinion was valued and that I wasn’t seen as pushing my views on them.
Early on, Shawna and I recognized our differing perspectives, and, rather than avoiding them, we made a habit of talking through political topics. We didn’t dive right into these dialogues, though. We first took the time to get to know each other as people—a crucial step that I believe none of us should skip when approaching challenging conversations. The respect and camaraderie we developed laid a strong foundation, and from there, we instituted a “check yourself” protocol, a system that created space for us to process any news story or event that could provoke strong reactions. This approach brought us closer and deepened our understanding. It also provided a model that would later benefit our students.
Shawna, in particular, inspired me through her intellectual humility—a quality that is increasingly rare today. She often admitted that her own views, and even her party, might not have all the answers and that perhaps there was wisdom to be found on the other side. This openness, reminiscent of the work of Jonathan Haidt, challenged my assumptions and helped me reflect on my own views more critically. I, too, recognized that none of us have a monopoly on truth, and this mutual humility became a cornerstone of our friendship.
This relationship proved invaluable several years into my career when I decided to run for town council in a neighboring town. My political affiliation was no longer just guessed—it was public. This shift made it more challenging to maintain neutrality in the eyes of students. Yet, because Shawna and I had modeled respectful disagreement and open-minded dialogue, the students could see, in real time, that we were friends and that political differences didn’t need to divide us. They observed the way we discussed difficult topics, maintaining respect and listening to understand, rather than to respond. Shawna’s approach—and our visible friendship—made it easier to navigate these new dynamics, creating a classroom environment where students felt safe to explore diverse viewpoints.
The impact of this approach became especially evident in the classroom. Our district’s students largely reflected the surrounding conservative community, and many came into discussions ready to defend or reject ideas rather than explore them. Shawna and I modeled “check yourself” conversations, showing our students that civil discourse across political lines was possible and beneficial. Seeing their teachers—a Democrat and a Republican—engage openly in these ways planted the seeds for more meaningful discussions.
If we hope to heal as a nation, we must prioritize this way of engaging—one that begins with listening, respect, and a willingness to learn. These values can create an environment where political differences don’t have to lead to resentment or hate. In fact, history shows us our differences can be a source of strength. Two of the most effective presidential cabinets deliberately sought out opposing viewpoints. Perhaps now more than ever, we could benefit from the civic virtue that guided the likes of Washington and Lincoln, who surrounded themselves with advisors willing to challenge them.
In these divisive times, I urge readers to reach out to someone with a different view, to listen without judgment, and to engage in conversations that reveal our shared humanity. By adopting practices like the “check yourself” protocol, we can change the culture of politics, moving it away from dehumanization and toward understanding. No matter our differences, we are neighbors and fellow citizens first.
Reference: Kalmoe, N. P., & Mason, L. (2019). Lethal Mass Partisanship: Prevalence, Correlates, & Electoral Contingencies. National Capital Area Political Science Association.
Nicholas D'Amuro is an Instructional Coordinator at Genesee Valley BOCES, supporting curriculum development and professional learning. In 2024, he co-founded the Civi Coalition (civiawards.us), a statewide initiative dedicated to civic education and bridging divides. He also serves as a sector ambassador for the Listen First Project and as a town councilman.
