Olson is the Democracy & Bridgebuilding Program Manager with Interfaith America.
Heather and Jack instantly bonded over their shared blue hair, but besides a similar taste in hair dye, they had little else in common—other than their desire to avoid a jail sentence.
For over 45 years as a DC-based public defender, Heather Shaner has tirelessly protected vulnerable clients from judicial system abuse. “The older I get, the more I think that prisons should be torn down, and very few people should go to jail,” she reflects, underscoring her role to “stand between the overwhelming power of the United States of America and the individual.” Her career took an unexpected turn when she was asked to represent January 6th rioters—fervent Trump supporters like Jack Griffith. Shaner’s decision to defend these individuals, despite facing criticism, was an opportunity to show that empathy and accountability are not only compatible but essential for justice, even for those society might condemn.
When filmmaker Andrea Kalin first read about Shaner’s novel approach toward her January 6th defendants—sending them books to help them reflect on their motivations—she saw a story worth exploring. This encounter led to the creation of Public Defender, a documentary now streaming on The New Yorker, which follows Shaner as she represents two clients: Jack Griffith, a boisterous social media personality from Gallatin, Tennessee, known as “Liberty Dragon,” and Annie Howell, a single mother from Hanover Township, NJ.
Heather Shaner (left) shakes hands with her client and Jan. 6 defendant Jack Griffith (right) Spark Media
The documentary doesn’t offer easy answers, nor does it suggest that every participant in January 6th will experience a dramatic change of heart. From the beginning, Jack and Annie approach their involvement in the Capitol events with starkly different attitudes, though neither of them were physically violent or vandalized property. Jack remains firm in his beliefs in a stolen election, while Annie struggles with personal turmoil and a feeling of betrayal from disinformation. Shaner’s work with them leads to personal journeys that evolve as the film unfolds. The complexity of their responses reflects the broader challenge of addressing the divisions that still shake our country.
Shaner, an unabashed progressive (her home even displays a framed “F*** Trump” poster), has now taken on 42 clients charged for their actions on January 6th—many of whom sit on the far opposite end of the political spectrum than she. By radically listening to their story and acknowledging their hurt, skipping the preaching, and trusting them to grow— Shaner offers an encouraging example of how we can bridge intractable divides. These divides, left unaddressed, continue to threaten our democracy and national security.
At a recent screening at the Dialogue Film Festival in Milwaukee, I saw firsthand how Public Defender ’s fresh perspective resonated with the audience. Based solely on the film's subject matter, it would be easy to expect grim footage of the Capitol riot, fast-paced legal jargon, and disturbing rhetoric from the insurrectionists. Yet Kalin’s film takes a different route—centering relationships with sincerity and even moments of levity. It invites viewers to wrestle with their own capacity for contempt and the limits of their belief in redemption.
As Arthur Brooks wrote in Love Your Enemies, “If we want more unity and less contempt, however, we need to get out of our comfort zones, go where we are not welcome, and spend time talking and interacting with people with whom we disagree—not on lightweight stuff like sports and food, but on hard moral things” Kalin’s documentary challenges us to break the cycle of political hate and division, not by absolving wrongdoers, but by fostering understanding and rejecting the simplistic caricatures we often impose on those we disagree with.
In partnership with Interfaith America, Stone Soup Productions, is showing Public Defender in communities across the country, accompanied by regional book drives for prison libraries. These screenings, and the post-film Q&A, aim to spark dialogue about political radicalization, with new framing that every person who stormed the Capitol has a unique story. “If 2,500 people went in,” Shaner reflects, “that’s 2,500 stories.”
While faith isn’t the central theme of Public Defender, it subtly informs much of Shaner’s approach. In one intimate scene, as Shaner sits in her kitchen, the camera pans to a painted ceramic Hamsa hung on her wall as she quotes a Talmudic verse, almost as if humbly reassuring herself of her mission: "If you save one life, you’ve saved the world.” She continues by saying “You can only change one life at a time, so there's a lot of work to be done”.
Less than a month before election day, when our political climate feels eerily reminiscent of four years ago, Public Defender reminds us that America’s political divide requires more than just election victories and defeats to heal. Healing requires compassion, accountability, and a willingness to seek humanity in those with whom we fundamentally disagree. By focusing on the individual stories behind the political movement that perpetrated the Big Lie, there is hope to be found, even if it’s messy.
You can watch Public Defender on The New Yorker's YouTube channel:
- YouTubewww.youtube.com
Public Defender, a 40-minute documentary, is now streaming on The New Yorker. Stone Soup Productions is a Faith in Elections Playbook Grantee, an initiative co-created by Interfaith America and Protect Democracy to help communities bridge divides caused by polarization and protect free and fair elections.
U.S. President Donald Trump speaks during a“ Steel Across America” event ahead of the 25th anniversary of the Sept. 11th attacks on the Ellipse near the White House on Sept. 8, 2026 in Washington, D.C. President Trump welcomed 9/ 11 first responders to the Tunnel to Towers Foundation’ s“ Steel Across America” event featuring a 16,900- pound, 21- foot steel beam recovered.
For Trump, even 9/11 is an opportunity
There was a reason organizers of the 9/11 ceremony in Manhattan told President Trump he could not speak at this year’s memorial service.
A good one, it turns out.
Because in a speech he gave on Tuesday in Washington, he did exactly what they were presumably worried about — he made it about himself.
According to The New York Times, Trump had wanted a speaking role at the service, but the National Sept. 11 Memorial and Museum, which oversees the site, said no, as they’ve maintained for the past decade-plus that the venue and event should be nonpartisan.
Trump has long used awful tragedies to either puff himself up, trash political opponents, or sell lies to the American people.
He blamed a deadly plane crash at Washington National Airport last year on diversity, equity and inclusion policies. He blamed Puerto Ricans for the devastation they endured after Hurricane Maria in 2017. He reportedly considered withholding disaster relief after the California wildfires based on the way affected regions voted. In an interview on Fox News meant to commemorate the 75th anniversary of D-Day in Normandy, he used the occasion to slam former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi…with graves of the dead behind him.
And now, as we approach the 25th anniversary of what many New Yorkers consider the darkest day in modern history, Trump has done it again.
He told a rambling, nonsensical story — one he’s told before — about going to Ground Zero just after terrorists flew two commercial jets into the twin towers. In the story, which no one has been able to verify, despite multiple attempts, he says firefighters had to carry him out of One Liberty Plaza, also known as the U.S. Steel Building, because they thought it was about to collapse.
As CNN fact checker Daniel Dale notes, there’s no evidence Trump went into this building, especially at a time when NYPD and NYFD had locked down the area. There’s no evidence that building was collapsing — in fact, it was deemed structurally sound and reopened within two months of the attacks. There’s no evidence he was carried out of it by firefighters.
But the lie isn’t even the worst part. Pretend it was all true — why would the leader of our country, and a New Yorker, decide to make that tragic day about himself?
Because that’s who Donald Trump is. He’s a malignant narcissist.
He’s also, incidentally, a terrible and ineffectual president, who’s made ill-fated decisions that he has to keep defending, and there’s nothing he won’t do to make himself look and feel better.
Within the first two minutes of his speech, he was cravenly using 9/11 to justify and promote his dumb war in Iran — two events separated by 25 years and 6,000 miles.
“And I will tell you, we’re right now fighting because we have a certain nation that wanted a nuclear weapon, they were very close to getting it, and now they have no chance at getting it. They will never have a nuclear weapon. Iran will not have a nuclear weapon. And they’ve been punished greatly. As you know, we’ve really taken it to them.”
As a New Yorker who lived through 9/11, still one of the worst days of my life, I’m utterly sickened by Trump’s crass, political, and self-promotional framing of that awful day.
And I’m relieved he won’t be given a platform to do it again on Friday’s anniversary in lower Manhattan.
Because for Trump, everything is his for the taking, and absolutely nothing is sacred.
S.E. Cupp is the host of "S.E. Cupp Unfiltered" on CNN.