Finding Common Ground in Unexpected Places
How can Americans find common ground despite political polarization?
We can find common ground by looking beyond political labels and creating opportunities for genuine human connection. Shared experiences, from national parks and sports to music and everyday conversations, remind us that people are more complex than “red” and “blue.” We don’t have to agree on everything to appreciate the same places and discover what we share.
That same principle strengthens democracy: building relationships across differences creates bridges without requiring anyone to abandon their beliefs. We may not be able to solve polarization on our own, but we can start with one person: sit down, be curious, listen, and find something in common.
This summer, inspired by my son’s desire to see Mount Rushmore, our family set up camp in the Black Hills of South Dakota and spent a week exploring incredible sites in the Great Plains of the United States: Wind Cave National Park, Jewel Cave National Monument, Badlands National Park, Crazy Horse Memorial, Custer State Park, Devils Tower National Monument, and plenty of places in between.
I grew up visiting national parks, and it has been meaningful to watch my kids develop their own appreciation for them (the Junior Ranger program certainly helps). Having visited national parks in other countries, I have come to appreciate even more what an extraordinary American treasure our system of public lands really is.
Someone recently mused that perhaps our national parks are one of the few things that can still bring us together as a country. That thought stuck with me on this trip.
To use the “red/blue” shorthand for our two main U.S. political parties, South Dakota is a very red (conservative) state. I come from a very blue (progressive) part of Maryland. Yet throughout our trip, we heard enormous pride in Theodore Roosevelt’s conservation legacy and in the public lands he helped protect. That includes Wind Cave, the first cave designated as a national park, and Jewel Cave, the first national monument established to protect a cave.
Our trip happened to overlap with the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. Imagine us in our SUV and young kids alongside packs of Harley Davidson riders. Definitely not the “usual scene” for us. But there we all were—families and bikers, people from small towns and big cities, people who I suspect disagree about all sorts of things—standing on the same mountainsides, taking in the same views, and appreciating the same remarkable places.
It was a small reminder of something that feels easy to forget right now: people are more complex than how we might categorize them.
As humans, we may draw lines between ourselves. We try to put each other in boxes of “us” and “them.” But national parks blur those lines and remind us that those boxes are artificial. So do sports. So does music, particularly Dolly Parton’s. And, most importantly, ordinary human connection can erase those lines and free us from our boxes.
That idea is central to the Brazilian Blueprint.
International exchange is often described in lofty terms: strengthening democracy, building international partnerships, sharing best practices. Those things matter. But some of the most lasting effects of exchange happen on a much more human scale.
You sit next to someone at lunch. You ask about their family. You discover that you love the same music. You laugh about something that doesn't translate quite right. You hear how they understand a problem that you thought you already understood. You realize that the person across the table does not fit neatly into whatever picture of their country, profession, politics, or culture you carried with you.
And they discover the same thing about you.
Those encounters rarely make headlines. They do not resolve international disagreements or erase the very real differences between societies. But they make it harder to reduce other people to caricatures.
That matters particularly in the relationship between the United States and Brazil. Our countries are enormous, diverse, complicated democracies. Both are wrestling with polarization, distrust, inequality, rapid technological change, and fundamental questions about how people with profoundly different experiences and beliefs can continue to share a democratic society.
There is much we can learn from one another. And learning requires more than arriving with a list of questions and collecting answers. It requires curiosity. It requires listening. And learning requires being willing to encounter people as people rather than simply as representatives of institutions, ideologies, or countries.
That is why the Brazilian Blueprint is built around exchange.
In a few weeks, delegates will meet Brazilian leaders and experts and experience Brazil beyond meeting rooms. Our delegates from the United States and Mexico will talk with their Brazilian counterparts, share meals, explore neighborhoods, ask questions, and form relationships that will continue long after everyone returns to our respective homes.
In a small way, each person will be a bridge. After all, a bridge does not require the two sides to become the same. It simply creates a way to cross the distance between them.
That may sound modest at a moment when the divisions within and between our countries can feel enormous. But don’t underestimate the power of individual relationships, the impact of a group exchange, and the ripple effect that will emanate from this work.
No single person can solve polarization. We cannot repair international relations by ourselves. We cannot make millions of people understand one another better.
We can sit down with one person.
We can listen.
We can be curious.
We can look for - and find - something we share in common.
Standing in South Dakota among families, bikers, tourists, park rangers, and people whose lives look different from mine in many ways, I felt a glimmer of hope growing more certain each day. We may disagree on a variety of topics, but there was still common ground beneath our feet.
As the Brazilian Blueprint heads to São Paulo, I’m carrying that hope with us. Thanks to our willingness to cross the distance, we’re going to find connections, including where we might not expect it, and return home having built more bridges that will serve our shared future.
