Ace Parsi is Director of Coalition Engagement at iCivics, and serves as the co-chair for the National Week of Conversation K–12 Working Group.The opinions expressed in this piece are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the views of iCivics or the NWOC.
When I was eight, my family and I immigrated to the United States from Iran. It goes without saying that neither my older brother nor I learned the intricacies of democracy in Iranian schools—quite the opposite. If I hadn’t immigrated, chances are that I would have, like so many others, still desired to live in a democracy. After all, I’m the nephew of uncles imprisoned for being part of the Iranian pro-democracy student movement. But even this familiar connection is no guarantee that I would have learned about democracy, for such knowledge is not passed down to us through the gene pool.
This is why it is essential—in our self-governing society—to ensure each and every student in our country attains the knowledge, skills, and dispositions to be informed and engaged participants in our constitutional democracy. As we approach the National Week of Conversation this April 17 - 23, in which we are called to make active efforts to bridge differences, we would do well to remember that this means learning, experiencing, and internalizing skills essential to a healthy democracy’s success—namely bridging and key related skills and dispositions like empathy, curiosity, and listening.
This kind of civic learning happens both inside and outside of school. And like any other discipline, powerful civic learning builds on what we know about learning theory: Learning is internalized when it’s contextualized within prior experience; synthesized and transferred to novel situations; and then crystalized through dedicated time for reflection. This we know to be true in any number of areas—learning a sport, a musical instrument, a scientific principle, or driving—and it is true for civic and bridging skills.
The most important teaching and learning experiences that make me the civic actor I am today weren’t about reading and memorizing as a student or lecturing as a teacher, though there is certainly a place where that type of teaching and learning is important. As an elementary school teacher, the most important learning experiences happened when students learned about rainforests and then were able to demonstrate what they learned by writing letters to their members of Congress. As a learner, my most important learning experiences happened when I applied what I’d learned about legislation to funding at a Boys and Girls Club where I volunteered or participated in a budget simulation in which I played the role of a Congressional appropriator balancing the budget.
In the case of bridging, then, one can’t simply read about empathy, curiosity, and listening, but must have the opportunity to put these learnings into practice, as is done in sports, driving, or virtually any other academic discipline. These elements of quality learning theory show up in the work of any number of other partners involved in the National Week of Conversation K–12 Working Group.
Lastly, part of this experience is not just what kids learn but what they see. To put it another way, it’s not what we teach but what we model. Our kids are learning about their communities and the world around them through a variety of sources. It is incumbent upon parents, educators, community leaders, policymakers, and so many more to engage in productive ways and model the desired dispositions. If we are serious about teaching our children the skills necessary to sustain and strengthen 21st-century democracy in the United States, we must model civility and the civic behaviors we want the next generation to learn.
Moving forward, we invite your engagement in the process. Our K–12 working group is seeking stories of how educators are supporting bridging skills in classrooms and how parents and school board members are modeling bridging in meetings. We also are looking for resources that help contribute to the conversation.
Difference is a hallmark of democracy—not a bug. If you are engaged in this difficult work of bridging and productive dialogue across differences, we hope to show through this National Week of Conversation and beyond that that you are not alone.



















image of U.S. President Donald Trump is displayed on a digital billboard in Times Square in New York on April 8, 2026.
Trump is stuck between two realities. Neither serves the American people
Normally, I worry that events may overtake a column. But not so with the Iran war.
I don’t worry about running afoul of a headline or Truth Social post from the president because what is said about the situation is no longer very relevant to the reality.
On April 8, Nick Catoggio, my Dispatch colleague, dubbed an earlier stoppage with Iran “Schrödinger’s ceasefire.” This was a reference to the famous thought experiment by the physicist Erwin Schrödinger, who was trying to explain the weirdness of “superpositionality” in quantum physics. A cat in a box is both dead and alive at the same time until you open the box. Schrödinger meant to illustrate the absurdity of the idea that particles aren’t any one thing, but a “cloud of probabilities.”
The Trump administration is stuck in a word cloud of probabilities of his own making. The war is over. The war is on. The war isn’t a war. We have a deal, but we don’t have a deal, but we’re about to have a deal. We destroyed Iran’s military. No, we left it intact. We want regime change. No we don’t. We already accomplished it. We “obliterated” Iran’s nuclear program a year ago. We had to go to war in February to prevent nuclear war. The Strait of Hormuz is open, closed, or something in-between. No deal without “unconditional surrender.” Let’s make a deal!
This everything-all-at-once vibe can be disorienting, particularly since most Americans didn’t have a war with Iran on their bingo cards until the shooting had already started. President Trump didn’t prepare the country or consult with Congress beforehand because he thought it would all be a smashing success in a matter of weeks.
The miscalculation that started it all: killing Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, and much of Iran’s senior leadership, on the first day of the war. To “the great proud people of Iran, I say tonight that the hour of your freedom is at hand,” Trump announced on Feb. 28. “When we are finished, take over your government. It will be yours to take. This will be probably your only chance for generations.”
I support regime change in Iran and shed no tears for Khamenei or his goons. But when you start a war by killing the regime’s top leaders, it’s not unreasonable for the remaining ones to conclude that you really intend regime change.
Khamenei was a murderous fanatic, but he was a fairly cautious one. He liked to threaten closing the Strait of Hormuz or attacking our regional allies, but he was reluctant to actually do it, fearing it would invite a regime change war. The mullahs and IRGC goons believed, not unreasonably, that if they lost their grip on power, they’d be lynched by the Iranian people they’ve brutalized for decades.
By starting with a regime change war, Trump removed any reason for the regime not to go for broke. When you have nothing to lose — particularly when you are a millenarian religious fanatic — a Persian Alamo strategy makes a lot of sense.
So Iran closed the Strait of Hormuz and attacked its neighbors.
But it turns out this wasn’t the Alamo. In the contest of wills, Trump blinked. The Iranian regime’s tolerance for punishment proved — so far — to be greater than Trump’s and that of our gulf allies. Militarily we could finish the job, but that would require ground troops and much greater economic turmoil. In a conflict Trump launched unilaterally without the prior support of Congress, NATO or the American people, Trump doesn’t have the political capital for that.
But that’s only half the problem. Trump wants the war over, but he doesn’t want to pay — militarily, economically, politically — what that would cost. So he wants to make a deal that ends it. But there is no deal available that wouldn’t come at an equally undesirable cost. Any deal that looks like what President Obama struck with the Iranians would be too embarrassing to bear. But the Iranians are convinced that they can get just such a deal, and they’re willing to drag things out as long as it takes.
The result: Trump’s in a box of his own making. He thinks he can talk his way out by simply asserting a reality that doesn’t exist. When the financial markets get nervous, he announces a breakthrough that is, at best, a possibility. When the Iranians agree to a deal that looks similar to one Obama might negotiate, Trump goes back to his threats.
It can’t go on forever. But I’m sure it’ll last until long after this column is forgotten.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.