In this video, Andre reflects on how the threat of racial discrimination and violence has impacted him and his relationships and the walls that our racial challenges can lead us to put up between each other. They also talk about whether the focus on racial stories in today’s media is a net good or net bad for society and race relations, discussing both its upsides and downsides.
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Directly above view of group standing together in huddle after training session.
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College Athletes Are Becoming a New Civic Power — And The Team Is Showing How
Sep 09, 2026
WASHINGTON, D.C. — A growing movement is reshaping how student‑athletes engage with democracy, and at its center is The Team, a nonprofit that integrates civic responsibility directly into college sports. Its mission — developing “teammates, leaders, and citizens” — is resonating across campuses nationwide as athletes step into roles that extend far beyond competition.
Elizabeth Ford, the team's program manager, noted that student‑athletes are uniquely positioned to influence civic culture because “they already have a platform, and people listen to them.” Ford highlighted how The Team is channeling that influence into structured, nonpartisan civic leadership.
The organization’s Engaged Athlete Fellowship has become one of the country’s fastest‑growing civic leadership programs for student‑athletes. Applications surged from 59 to 396 between the first and third cycles — an increase reflecting rising interest in civic engagement across NCAA divisions. Fellows receive leadership training, mentorship, and support to design civic projects tailored to their campuses and communities.
Projects have ranged from voter‑engagement campaigns and legislative workshops to mental‑health initiatives, community sports camps, and resource drives. At Howard University, fellows tackled truancy and organized athletic‑gear donations for youth in Africa. At Northwestern, athletes are developing civic‑education programming and spotlighting racial inequities in women’s distance running.
In a Fulcrum interview, Elisee Byun, program coordinator for The Team and a former varsity gymnast at UC Berkeley, emphasized why athletes are embracing civic work: “Athletes know how to show up for their communities. They just need the tools to do it intentionally.” Byun said the fellowship helps athletes connect their discipline and teamwork to civic responsibility.
This year, I met the 2025–2026 Engaged Athlete Fellows in Washington, D.C., where athletes connected with professionals across fields — from tech to sports — who showed how civic engagement strengthens their industries and careers. The gathering offered a firsthand look at how young leaders are translating visibility, discipline, and collaboration into civic impact.
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One fellow, Katherine Helms, a women’s swimmer at North Carolina State University, underscored why athletes are stepping into civic leadership. “I think first of all I believe as athletes we have a platform that can help better our communities and we're also role models,” Helms said. “People look up to us — kids, but also adults.” She described her project, “Swim for Life,” a free, beginner swim and water safety clinic serving children from low-income families in Raleigh. It brought local youth onto a college campus and into a college pool for the first time. “I thought that the impact would be measured on how many kids learned how to swim. But it was more than that. It was confidence-building, seeing themselves differently, and learning a new skill they didn’t think they could do.”
“Swim for Life” is run in partnership with Neighbor to Neighbor (N2N), a nonprofit dedicated to reversing the effects of poverty through mentoring, education, and community development. N2N assists with participant recruitment and family outreach to ensure the program reaches children who lack access to swim education.
Another fellow, Jasmine Jackson, a women’s basketball player at Elizabeth City State University, said the fellowship pushed her to rethink what meaningful community engagement looks like. Her project centered on listening first — not assuming what a neighborhood needed, but building trust through conversation and collaboration. “The biggest takeaway from that project was the impact that it left on the community,” said Jackson. “Literally, from everything from the kids to the principals—just being able to go into a community and not go in with tunnel vision and ‘Hey, we know how you need help,’ but asking them and being intentional and seeing what they need and how you can support that.” Through mentorship, hands-on engagement, and immersive experiences, her goal is to empower future minds by showing them what’s possible and helping them envision their own journey as scholars, athletes, and changemakers.
Jackson’s emphasis on listening and community‑driven work reflects a broader theme emerging across the fellowship: athletes are recognizing that their influence extends well beyond the court, track, or pool. For many, that sense of responsibility is shaped not only by their civic projects but by their own journeys through college athletics — journeys that opened doors to education, mentorship, and long‑term opportunity.
That perspective is especially clear among Division I athletes, who understand firsthand how powerful that pipeline can be. For many, competing at the D1 level isn’t just about sports — it’s a gateway to education, opportunity, and career pathways that will outlast their athletic careers. Only a small percentage ever make it to the professional level, so the college experience becomes the foundation they carry forward. That’s why building a pipeline matters: ensuring that talented young people, especially those who may not know how to navigate the system, can access the same doors athletics opened for them.
David Davitt of the University of Pennsylvania Men’s Track and Field & Cross Country developed new pathways for student-athletes to pursue careers in financial services. His project focuses on building a structured talent pipeline that expands access to professional opportunities by addressing real obstacles athletes face — including rigid recruiting timelines, demanding practice schedules, and limited flexibility for traditional internships.
“When you understand that you have that platform through being there, it's like you want to create that for the next generation,” Davitt said. “I think just experiencing that myself, I really want to make sure that other people have the same opportunity, especially for the ones who don't necessarily know the pathway to get that opportunity, but are well capable of getting in.”
The Team operates as a fiscally sponsored project of the Bridge Alliance Education Fund, the parent organization of The Fulcrum. The partnership reflects a shared commitment to expanding civic infrastructure and empowering new generations of democratic leaders. The Team is already evaluating candidates for the 2026–2027 Engaged Athlete Fellowship — a sign of the program’s continued momentum and the growing national interest in student‑athlete civic leadership.
As student‑athletes continue to rise as influential voices in American culture, The Team is proving that sports can be a powerful entry point into civic life — helping young people build not only stronger teams, but a stronger democracy.
Hugo Balta is the executive editor of The Fulcrum and the publisher of the Latino News Network
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A federal court sided with LAHSA, but LA nonprofits are still fronting millions to deliver government-funded homeless and DV services. Time to fix this.
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When Nonprofits Become the Bank for Government
Sep 09, 2026
It is a victory for Los Angeles in LAHSA v. Trump et al. that a federal court has temporarily halted the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development's suspension of the Los Angeles Homeless Services Authority and ordered HUD to execute already-awarded 2025 grants. The court found that HUD's action was arbitrary and unlawful, restoring LAHSA's role as the regional Continuum of Care applicant and protecting critical federal homelessness resources.
That is good news for Los Angeles.
Los Angeles can celebrate the protection of federal funding while still demanding stronger oversight of every public dollar. In fact, it must.
There have been legitimate and disturbing allegations of fraud and financial mismanagement involving a handful of organizations entrusted with public funds. In January, the Los Angeles County District Attorney charged the CEO of the nonprofit Abundant Blessings with allegedly defrauding LAHSA of more than $5 million. Public scrutiny of nonprofit finances, executive compensation, contracting and performance is not only appropriate; it is necessary.
Taxpayers should expect nonprofits receiving public money to be transparent, financially responsible and able to demonstrate that the services they were paid to provide were actually delivered.
But there is another part of the equation that deserves far more public attention. Who pays for the money it takes to deliver a government program before the government actually pays for it?
Nonprofits are often contracted to provide services that government has decided are necessary. They operate shelters, provide rental assistance, help people fleeing violence, deliver homelessness services, connect families to housing and provide countless other services on behalf of public agencies.
Yet many government-funded programs operate on a reimbursement model. The nonprofit have to advance the money.
Recently, Pat Bell CEO of House Of Ruth Inc. in Pomona confirmed that this is not an abstract financial problem.
She shared sitting across from her CFO, exhausted and confronting questions that should never be routine for an organization responsible for keeping survivors safe: “How will we cover payroll? How will we pay rising health insurance costs? How will we keep rental subsidies flowing for families trying to rebuild their lives?”
The agency has served survivors for 50 years. Yet today, its leadership worries every two weeks about whether there is enough cash in the bank to meet payroll while waiting for months of government reimbursements to be released. Federal funding has been erratic, inconsistent, delayed and paused. Executive orders, funding freezes, delayed contracts, and legal battles, ripple all the way down to a small agency in Pomona and ultimately to the survivors.
The organization has already drawn down its reserves to pay rent for survivors, salaries for crisis workers and the basic costs of keeping its doors open. It is not a story of financial irresponsibility. It is a story of an organization being asked to carry the financial risk of a public system while continuing to provide services that cannot simply be paused.
As the CEO put it, this has become its own kind of organizational trauma.
With this reimbursement model, that means the nonprofit is not simply providing the service. The nonprofit is financing the service.
“Resetting LA City to Meet Urgent Community Needs: Nonprofit Action Recommendations for Mayor Bass,” prepared by the Nonprofit Finance Fund and included in Los Angeles County Board materials, uplifts the financial challenges facing government-funded nonprofits; interest expense on loans used to bridge reimbursement gaps is typically not reimbursable through government grants. The report also recognizes that nonprofits can face lengthy delays between providing services and receiving payment, while operating with slim or nonexistent margins and limited ability to build reserves.
Why have we normalized a system in which a nonprofit organization is expected to borrow money to deliver a government program, while the government does not necessarily pay the cost of that borrowing?
The recent federal court ruling makes this conversation even more important. What if Judge David O. Carter’s decision did not favor Los Angeles Homeless Services Authority? What would have happened to the nonprofit agencies who advanced these payments?
We need to challenge the status quo.
Government agencies have budgets, reserves, borrowing authority and access to public financing mechanisms. They have the ability to plan for cash flow.
Most nonprofits do not have those same tools.
Many operate with limited unrestricted reserves precisely because government grants are restricted and because government-funded programs often do not allow organizations to generate meaningful surpluses.
People see a nonprofit receiving a $1 million government contract. They may assume the organization has $1 million sitting in a bank account. It does not. The organization has a $1 million program that requires an enormous advance amount in payroll, rent, services, and other expenses before reimbursement arrives.
The answer is not to eliminate nonprofit oversight but to create a better financing structure.
If government requires nonprofits to front the cost of delivering public programs, then government should be responsible for the reasonable financing costs created by that requirement.
That could mean upfront payments.
It could mean working-capital advances.
It could mean government-backed, low-interest or zero-interest bridge financing.
And where a nonprofit must use a commercial line of credit because of government reimbursement delays, reasonable interest and financing costs should be treated as an allowable cost of delivering the government program.
There should also be enforceable payment timelines.
If government wants nonprofits to meet deadlines for performance, reporting and invoicing, government should have corresponding deadlines for executing contracts, approving invoices and issuing payment.
Accountability should run in both directions.
If a program is a public responsibility, government should fund the full cost of delivering it.
And if we are serious about protecting taxpayer dollars, nonprofit organizations and, most importantly, the people these programs are designed to serve, we must stop expecting nonprofits to absorb the financial risks of government programs.
It is time to stop treating nonprofits as the bank for government.
Stephanie Whack is a survivor of domestic violence, an advocate at the intersection of victimization and homelessness, and a member of The OpEd Project Public Voices Fellowship on Domestic Violence and Economic Security. In 2024, she was awarded the LA City Dr. Marjorie Braude Award for innovative collaboration in serving victims of domestic violence.
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Father-Daughter Bonding: The Art of Disagreeing Well
Sep 08, 2026
From the moment my youngest daughter was born, she carved out her own space in my world. I remember the pediatrician remarking on her long eyelashes, my brief panic when she didn't cry right away, and then the overwhelming relief and joy of holding her as she looked up and seemed to smile.
Growing up in the United States, most children called their fathers “Dad.” She chose something different. She called me Nanna—the Telugu word for father. It was a small, sweet choice that signaled the unique intellectual and emotional bond we would share. I have three daughters, and while my relationships with her older sisters are deep and powerful in their own ways, this is the daughter who shares this particular story with me.
Our linguistic bond went even further. When she was three, my own mother passed away. In my grief, desperate not to lose the word I cherished most—Amma, the Telugu word for mother—I began calling my little daughter Amma. We both loved it. It became our private sanctuary of language and affection, a tradition that has evolved so that nowadays I sometimes call her Madre, the Spanish word for mother.
Even as a child, she possessed a rare ability to think with striking objectivity and plan far ahead. At twelve, she mapped out her life timeline: she would marry at twenty-seven and have two or three children soon after. Life followed her plan almost exactly; she married at twenty-eight—delayed slightly by the pandemic—and now has two children, precisely on schedule.
While my wife and older children looked on with amusement, I often found myself asking this little girl for advice. When I spoke to her, she gave me her full attention and responded with complete sincerity. Over the years, she wrote me beautiful letters. One of them moved me so deeply that I framed it; it still hangs on my office wall. Titled “The Special Relationship between My Dad and Me,” it recounts a childhood trip we took to the Secret Garden in Las Vegas. Even then, she observed the world with clear eyes, writing about how we stood before the gorilla exhibit and discussed the biological similarities between primates and humans—realizing, through that shared logic, just how closely our minds operated on the same wavelength.
By the time she was seven, I sensed she had the makings of a leader—an ambition she wrote about in a second-grade essay we still treasure. When I proudly told a professor at a university event that I was encouraging her to become a CEO, he smiled and remarked, “Ah, so you want her to start from the top.”
Because our relationship was built on mutual respect and freedom, she discussed everything with me, including her dating life. When it came time to choose a husband, I offered only the loosest of boundary criteria. Eventually, she became deeply excited about a young man and invited him over.
I took him on an hour-and-a-half walk around the lake in the park next to our home. I interviewed him—probing his personality, his technical ability, his career potential, and his capacity to be a good father. He passed with flying colors. Only after the wedding did I learn a delightful truth: my new son-in-law knew exactly what I was doing and was actively working to impress me. I felt a wave of joy realizing my son-in-law had outsmarted the father-in-law—a testament to my daughter’s sharp objectivity in choosing him.
Her personality—a delicate balance between wanting to make others happy and harboring a strong inner drive—became especially clear when it was time to choose a university. She was accepted to both UCLA and UC Berkeley. Sensing her wavering out of a desire to please us, I reframed the question: “Which choice will make you less unhappy?” With a very narrow margin, she admitted that Berkeley would make her less unhappy. Hearing that narrow truth was all I needed. I told her she must go for the best option with zero compromise. She chose Berkeley, and later, medical school in Chicago.
Today, she is a practicing psychiatrist, a dedicated wife, and a mother to two young children. Her life is beautifully full. Yet, despite being exceptionally busy, she makes time to read the articles I write. When I gently told her not to feel obligated, she shook her head. She told me she reads her Nanna’s articles not out of duty, but because she genuinely loves them—even if it is just a small part of an essay each day.
We know each other as close friends. We still laugh and reminisce about the exact names and quirks of every tourist who shared an unforgettable eleven-day European bus tour with us. We are keepers of the same memories.
This brings us to the polling booth.
Politics is a subject we discuss thoroughly. We agree on most things, but when we diverge, it is a matter of perspective rather than logic. My daughter feels a deep, personal connection to the DACA program, having gone to medical school alongside brilliant classmates whose careers and lives in this country were constantly under threat. When she reads the news, she feels that vulnerability acutely on behalf of her peers. For my part, while I understand and respect that passion completely, I tend to view the same issue through a broader policy framework.
There is a small, quiet part of me that once wished I could bring her around to my perspective. Not out of ego, but out of the lifelong habit of wanting to share every conclusion with her the way we once shared every idea. But that small sting is quickly overtaken by something larger. I raised all three of my daughters to be independent thinkers—to pursue their passion without compromise, to follow their own conviction wherever it leads. That was always the goal. So when she stood her ground on her vote, armed with genuine reasoning and conviction, I felt the deepest possible pride. She was not agreeing with me. She was proving that I had succeeded as a father.
We both understand and appreciate how the other person arrives at their conclusion. Because our relationship has always been anchored in a lifelong habit of critical and integrated thinking, we respect each other’s cognitive processes entirely.
On Election Day, we climb into the same car, the atmosphere filled with warmth and easy conversation. We joke that we are driving all this way for a “net zero” benefit because our ballots will neutralize each other. But beneath the laughter lies a shared sense of satisfaction.
We walk into the polling booth side by side. Standing next to each other—separated only by those thin cardboard dividers—we exchange a glance that needs no words. Then we cast our ballots for two different candidates.
As we walk back to the car, we do not feel defeated; we feel a quiet, powerful wave of pride. We have fulfilled our responsibility as good citizens. More importantly, we have proven that different perspectives do not mean a divided heart. We may cancel each other’s votes, but we amplify each other’s lives.Meda Parameswara Reddy, Ph.D., is Director of the Reddy Center for Critical and Integrated Thinking. A former R&D executive with 30 U.S. patents, he focuses on analyzing human behavior, public health, and global affairs, drawing on an interdisciplinary background. He has published in multiple RealClear platforms, Proc. Natl. Acad. Sci., The Humanist, AFRO American, South Asia Monitor (on the editorial board and host of a show), and others.
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U.S. President Donald Trump boards Air Force One on August 14, 2026 at Joint Base Andrews, Maryland. Trump is traveling to Long Island to tour law enforcement facilities in Nassau County and rally support for local Republican candidates ahead of the upcoming midterm elections
Travel Far Enough, You Meet Yourself
Is it possible that our President has simply not traveled enough?
Born and raised in Queens and attending Fordham University in the Bronx, Donald Trump has no record of traveling outside New York until he was over 20, when he transferred to a college in the neighboring state of Pennsylvania. Were his formative years amiss, then, in his learning about other places and other people?
Is his view akin to the famous New Yorker cover by Saul Steinberg, an illustration of the United States with New York City as the epicenter of the country and the Hudson River the border of the known world? We can now at least add Washington, D.C., and Mar-a-Lago to the map of “the realm.”
Our President has now traveled some, but what we recommend is another kind of travel. Not a state-sponsored trip or a venture to scout locations for future Trump Towers. This would be a genuine travel experience, enriching and eye-opening, showcasing other cultures and ways of living.
It will extend far beyond viewing military parades, hobnobbing with such “understanding” world leaders as Kim Jong Un, or taking tea with the King.
WHERE, then, should the President go? As Elon Musk’s Starship spacecraft is not yet ready to take passengers to Mars, perhaps he could explore our own vast country?
Maybe he could travel to “flyover country,” the farming states, where his ying-yanging tariffs and trade restrictions have played havoc with rural economies. Or possibly to California, number one in homeless U. S. citizens, and while there, regale homeless veterans (approximately 32,500 nationwide) with tales of his brave exploits invading and bombing foreign countries.
Or he might tour the Great Lakes, and rename the other four?
WHEN should he go? This will be tough, as he is very busy building his ballroom and renaming bodies of water.
How about a trip in early November, around the midterm elections? Despite the long-discredited accusation of widespread voter fraud, it would be reassuring to know he might be so caught up divvying out ladles of soup in a soup kitchen somewhere that he wouldn’t remember to deploy the military for “election security.”
HOW will he travel? He should definitely not take his Qatari-donated, newly renovated 747, especially after last time, when he had to be smuggled off clandestinely in a catering truck. It’s unlikely any traveling companions, like the Secretary of State or of the Treasury, are going to fall for the ruse a second time. Besides, we may need those people. No more decoys!
Perhaps the President could fly commercially, although this likely would expose him to undue suffering. Without gold bathroom fixtures and maple wood floors, the trip will be no “Luxury Experience.” If only he still had his “Trump Shuttle,” bought with a massive loan he later defaulted on, saying then, “I’m smart. I got out at a good time.”
Considering the potential pitfalls, maybe it’s best the President travel incognito, disguised perhaps as an elderly woman wearing a lot of bronzer.
Wherever, whenever, however: our President needs a vacation.
Moreover, we need a vacation from him.
If the President refuses our travel suggestions, here’s another idea:
Let’s get him a pet! He has never owned a pet. As we know with our children, pets teach essential life lessons: compassion and empathy; they instill a sense of responsibility. There is a well-established connection between those who can care for a pet and those who can care for people.
So, which pet should we choose? A puppy? A kitten? A boa constrictor?
Imagine, the President may even decide he likes having a pet. After all, what is more obedient than a well-trained dog, besides possibly the Cabinet? And what is more docile than a sweet kitten, other than plausibly the Supreme Court?
The President may even become more mellow with a pet afoot and less likely to slap tariffs on our allies, or attempt to annex our neighbors, or bully our Congress. (Realizing, of course, a bully requires active participation from the bullied to maintain his status.)
Maybe we should do both: get the President a pet and devise a travel plan for him. (Do you think we could possibly convince him to leave his phone at home?)
Let’s go for it! After all:
Travel far enough, you meet yourself. (David Mitchell)
And for our President, that would likely be the most profound discovery of all.
Amy Lockard is an Iowa resident who regularly contributes to regional newspapers and periodicals. She is working on the second of a four-book fictional series based on Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice."