OPINION:
The dancers hadn’t taken the stage yet, but the room was already electric. Families, friends, strangers, all leaning forward with anticipation. My husband and I were there for a friend’s daughter declaring her college choice on stage. As parents of boys who had never sat in a dance audience, it was a unique experience. And yet, inside that two-hour showcase, something shifted in me. My soul was full. I kept thinking: why can’t every day feel like this? Why does joy so often have to come from an event, rather than a current running through our communities?
Spring has a way of bringing optimism. The end-of-year energy of students, graduation pride, the promise of summer, it all lifts us. I am inspired watching our niece announce her decision to attend Cornell, and another completing her master’s degree. They carry a confidence that makes me believe in tomorrow. But we know the feeling is fragile. We go back to our newsfeeds and the unrelenting noise.
So, the question I keep feeling: in one of the most prolonged eras of division this country has ever experienced, certainly in my lifetime, how do we find and strive to keep genuine optimism about our future? And what is our role in sustaining it?
I felt the weight of that question even more sharply when I watched live on television the recent White House Correspondents’ Dinner in Washington when a gunman attempted to gain access and threatened officials and attendees. It was frightening, and yet in the immediate aftermath, something rare happened. Americans on all sides breathed a collective sigh of relief. For a brief appreciated moment, we had narrowly avoided a tragedy. We were unified, not by shared belief, but by shared gratitude.
That saddens me as much as it relieves me. I remember our country feeling a massive surge of unity following the horror of 9/11, nearly 25 years ago. As a nation whose very name begins with “United,” shouldn’t we be capable of finding more joyful ways to come together, and stay together?
Emotionally and intellectually, we are living through a prolonged era of division. I have spent a career in Florida’s public and private sectors, in rooms where collaboration was once the expectation and common ground the goal. We have all witnessed that culture erode. We don’t just disagree anymore; we demonize. We have abandoned a way of engaging that made dialogue possible and interesting, that made listening feel worthwhile and enriching.
What’s changed is not that we disagree more; it’s how we disagree. We’ve moved from debate to distance, from difference to disconnection. In institutions designed to bring people together, we now operate in parallel rather than in partnership. That’s why the moments that still bring us together matter more than we realize. They are not incidental. They are instructive.
There are still havens. I found one at that dance showcase. The room held people I didn’t know, people with different stories. But for two hours, we were one audience. One community. Cheering together. Exhaling together. We all can see and feel it at sporting events, concerts, and school performances where parents hold their breath until their child finds the spotlight. These shared experiences cut through the noise and remind us of who we are to each other: Neighbors. Fellow humans. Americans.
The problem is that division has become a cloak that wraps around every institution — public, private, nonprofit, civic. We feel it nearly every day, in ways large and small. We know we deserve better for our families, our communities, and our country. The question is how we get there, and I believe the answer begins in places we have underestimated.
Connection is no longer a byproduct of strong institutions. It is a leadership responsibility.
In our workplaces, schools, and civic spaces, we should be asking a different question — not just “Are we achieving results?” but “Are we creating environments where people can see each other, hear each other, and find common ground?” Without that foundation, results become harder to sustain.
We are approaching something significant: the 250th birthday of this nation. America was born on ideas, on the Declaration’s simple, radical insistence on equality and on “Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness” for all. Not happiness as a luxury, but a founding promise. Joy as a right.
I think about that when I talk to my sons about what it means to be American. It is not a passive identity. It is an active one. It asks something of us, not just to enjoy what this country offers, but to contribute to what it becomes.
At 250, America is still a young nation by historical standards. Growing pains have caused us to stray from the principles that should be our compass. But the anniversary is an invitation — the best opportunity in a generation to recommit.
It starts close to home. Children in classrooms. Families at dinner tables. Colleagues at work. Every one of us can choose to carry appreciation for what we share as Americans and let that appreciation show up in how we treat people, not as a grand gesture, but as a daily practice. The same way a room full of strangers can become a community for two hours, we can bring that spirit into our ordinary days.
Joy is not frivolous. It is not a distraction from the serious work of being human. It is the evidence that the work is worth doing. When I left the showcase, I didn’t feel naïve about the state of the world. I felt reminded of what we are capable of when we choose to show up for each other, to be present in the same room, to clap for something beautiful together.
Let it begin with each of us, with the conviction that if it’s to be, it’s up to me. Each of us has a daily patriotic role in rededicating ourselves to the “United” in the United States of America. We don’t require fanfare. We do it in how we live, listen, and show up, and in who we choose to cheer for.
• Monesia “Mone” T. Brown is one of Florida’s most accomplished, experienced, and respected leaders whose career includes stints in top public service posts in state government and the private sector. She has now established her own education and government affairs consultancy. She may be reached at mone@monesiatbrown.com.

Please read our comment policy before commenting.