Can Starting a Civic Pod Give You Hope?
In case you need a shot glass full of hope today.
It’s Donald Trump’s second Inauguration Day, and I won’t be watching. If, like me, you feel like you need a little shot glass of hope today, read on.
For those of you who are new around here, let me give you a brief background on me. In addition to being a journalist and fellow at a think tank, I’m a minivan-driving swing state Mom of three. I had baby twins during the 2020 presidential election, so 2024 was my first year as a North Carolina resident when I was ready to be all in on election-related volunteering.
Inspired by Emily Amick’s book, Democracy in Retrograde, I started a WhatsApp-turned-Signal group with a bunch of other moms I knew. We called it “Moms Will Turn NC Blue.” There are about 10 of us now; we all live in Durham, NC, have careers in the paid workforce, and are committed to public school. We were ready to do more than donate money or vote for Kamala. We wanted to put in some real volunteer hours knocking on doors and doing non-partisan get-out-the-vote work.
As the election season heated up, I loved this group. In addition to our support for Kamala, I found people who were as interested and invested in some of North Carolina’s critical down-ballot races as I was. (On a happy note: North Carolina Democrats did better down-ballot than they have in many years, holding and flipping some statewide positions and breaking the Republican supermajority in the state legislature.)
We’d post about what weekend volunteer canvassing shifts we were signed up for as a quick way to find a buddy to knock on doors with. We also coordinated bringing our kids along and traded childcare.

But it wasn’t just about logistics. This group became a lifeline of hope. We shared inspiring stories from our volunteer shifts, like the one time two group members literally carried an elderly and disabled woman to the car to make sure she got the chance to vote.
After the election’s outcome became clear, I needed this civic pod more than ever. I craved real conversations over superficial connections on social media and I wanted to have actual discussions instead of being inundated with apocalyptic headlines.
The day after the election, I had to take a big break from news and social media to protect my sanity. I couldn’t bring myself to watch Kamala’s concession speech, and I have still mostly stayed away from all the hot takes on why Kamala lost and why Trump’s cabinet picks are horrible.
That big break has allowed me to be much more intentional about my news consumption going forward. I’m completely off Instagram and Twitter, and before I go to the New York Times website or dive into a juicy newsletter, I check in with myself about whether I’m in the right headspace to be hit with upsetting news, rather than click or scroll without thinking. I also now make it a practice not to read news articles in bed or before bed so I don’t rev myself up with worry.
While I was going cold turkey on national news for a few weeks, the only group messages I was interested in checking were from the civic pod because I felt these people had put as much skin into the game as I had and understood how I felt. We kept each other updated on local NC races and issues that didn’t resolve right away without having to dive into everything happening nationally.
A few weeks after the election, our civic pod had an awesome in-person group hangout where it felt like we were connecting not just about mundane life topics like parenting and holiday plans but also about how to create a city and community we can be proud of and what political issues resonate most with us post-election.

Some of us made time to meet again in December despite all of the overwhelm of holiday commitments, and I appreciated that we were able to have a thoughtful, nuanced, in-person conversation about Luigi Mangione, even though we had different opinions! That feels so precious and rare these days.
Our goal is to have a monthly standing meeting to get together in IRL and keep our group chat going. Since we are no longer focused on volunteering for a big election, the group will evolve, but I’m hopeful it will keep going. This group makes me feel less alone and makes our politics somehow less overwhelming. These are the connections that, to me, make hard times more bearable.
As I think about what gives me hope right now in these dark political times, I am personally and professionally invested in the power of connecting IRL with people. Every big, overwhelming issue we face, personally or politically, can be broken down into much smaller bits and pieces that we can begin to address at the local level. Often when we think about finding hope or making the world a little better we focus on causes rather than relationships. I’d like to suggest that people focus on the latter. Start by investing in IRL relationships, civic pods, and communities as the antidote to despair. And from those stronger relationships, causes, engagement, civic action, and our ability to care for one another can grow.
It’s way easier to make it to a county commissioner meeting if you have people you trust who could watch your kid for free. You are going to be much more likely to make it to a volunteer shift at a soup kitchen after a long week if there’s a bunch of people you enjoy seeing who you know will be expecting you there. And it is much easier to admit to your book club that you are struggling and need support if others have shown up for each other during times of need in the past. Joining things, showing up consistently, and investing in relationships may seem too simple, given what this country is facing. It IS simple, but it can be profound. It’s also not easy. If it were, we would have all done it already. My obsession with these questions is why I’m launching the How to Find Your People Club, an IRL community-building project for the 21st century here on Substack in just two and a half weeks! I can’t wait to share some of my insights and research.
Nearly 25 years ago, historian Robert Putnam published a blockbuster book, Bowling Alone, in which traced America’s decline in civic participation and our increasing isolation from one another. This book was a huge deal. There was abundant news coverage, Presidential task forces, additional academic research and conversation, and public and private efforts to help Americans strengthen what Putnam called “social capital.” But merely making people aware of the problem and vaguely suggesting that people join things didn’t fix it. 25 years later, by virtually all measures, we are more isolated and distrustful than ever, with terrible impacts on our health, happiness, and our politics.
What brings me joy in my daily life is when I choose to buck these trends myself. Investing in my civic pod, my synagogue, and people in my neighborhood helps me feel less anxious, more connected, and more cared for, even when the news has never (in my lifetime) seemed more scary. Knowing that many people are questioning the status quo of our individualism and isolation and are hungry to do the work of meaningful connection gives me a lot of hope.
What’s giving you hope today?
The How to Find Your People Club starts Feb 5! Join us!


