It’s funny how, sometimes, you hear the most important things in the most unexpected places.
That happened to me this year. I was meeting with a woman (let’s call her Eleanor) who works at a wealthy foundation, sitting in a very corporate boardroom, trying to raise money for the One America Movement’s work. I do this a lot, of course. In this case, no money, sadly.
But in the meeting, we were talking about artificial intelligence and social media and all the big bad things happening in our world with technology and Eleanor said something that really stuck with me: “It’s almost as if,” she mused, “all of us have to be more human now.”
I’ve thought about that a lot recently. I’ve spent much of the past several months heartbroken by the war in Israel and Gaza. At my most constructive, I’ve channeled that heartbreak into my work, listening to Jewish and Muslim leaders tell me what their communities are going through. Talking to our staff about how our organization can make a difference, play a role, do something to address how the conflict is fueling divisions and hate. At my least constructive, well, I’ve doom-scrolled basically.
Throughout this, I’ve become more and more convinced of one thing: what Eleanor said applies to non-profits, and anyone trying to do good in the world in any organized way.
Being more human sounds a little fluffy, but I think it’s actually pretty concrete. Here’s an example:
As the violence in the Middle East unfolded over the course of October, we felt the same pressure that I’m sure many of our friends at other non-profits felt: develop a program. Do something new and innovative. Meet the moment. But that’s not a human reaction, per se. It’s human to pause, to grieve, to listen. It’s human to ask questions, to learn, to try things and fail and then try new things. To not have all the answers. To “mourn with those who mourn,” as it says in the Book of Romans in the Christian scriptures.
And in this moment of deep dehumanization, it’s that humanity—not the idea that we have all the answers—that we need so much. At the One America Movement, we committed to applying the same philosophy we try to use all the time to the problem of the impact of the war in the Middle East on the US: to listen to the faith leaders and faith communities we work with, with no agenda, with no “program” to sell them. So we listened, and listened, and listened. What we heard from both Jewish and Muslim leaders and communities was deep pain, a sense of betrayal, abandonment, fear. We heard some folks who were ready to explore how to do something to address divisions over the war here in the U.S. Others who absolutely weren’t ready.
But either way, for us, listening is the program. We listen because we are in a relationship with the people we work with, and the relationship is the program. If it wasn’t, nothing we do would work because the only way any of our programming is possible is if we build and earn trust, because trust is the program.
You get the idea. Be human.
We’re all going to be tested this year. We’re going to be inundated with negativity and division, people telling us to hate our neighbors and our friends, even our own family, people demanding that we put our allegiance on display through some sort of performative action—post something, say something, use a certain word, agree with a certain politician for right or wrong, etc.
The culture of toxic division pushes us to believe we don’t have choices—we have to go along with our side, or do whatever it takes to stop them or even, God forbid, use violence because it’s “the only way.”
But nobody, no ideology, no algorithm, no politician, no media personality can ever take away our agency. We always have a choice. We can always choose to be human. To do what’s right, even when it’s hard. To love somebody even when they’re wrong. To refuse to donate our attention and time to the latest outrage or to the money-printing empire of Big Tech.
"Courage is not simply one of the virtues," C.S. Lewis wrote. "But the form of every virtue at the testing point."
Over the next year, let’s start by committing to having the courage to be human. These days, that’s a powerful act of rebellion.
Andy
Andrew Hanauer is President and CEO of the One America Movement
Pirkei Avot 2.5-וּבְמָקוֹם שֶׁאֵין אֲנָשִׁים, הִשְׁתַּדֵּל לִהְיוֹת אִישׁ
In a place where there are no other human beings, try to be one.
AMEN.