I want my son to grow up in the country he saw on Saturday.
My son is five, and like all five-year-olds, he loves bubbles. He also loves music, food, and people.
So, I took him to a small town outside of Atlanta over the weekend to show him how all of those things can come together in a way that makes our country better. While he doesn't understand voting, he does understand kindness, and what we saw on Saturday is an example of how we can build a future together based on kindness.
It started as we rolled into the parking lot of the Clarkston Community Center. A bubble machine was sending a steady stream of bubbles across a big banner the Project HALO team had hung up to direct neighbors. Nearby, there was a steady stream of voters coming in and out of the local library. Volunteers were waving voters over as they left, inviting them next door to the community center, where the celebration was underway.
Inside, a youth martial arts class was filing in. So were Afghan families, some of whom, I suspect, had just cast their ballots. In one corner, eight or nine musicians sat in a circle playing old-time banjo music, the kind of American folk tune that has been handed down for generations. There were flags and snacks. My son found a bell and appointed himself official greeter, ringing it every time someone walked in from the polls.
I’ve spent a lot of this year describing what Project HALO is supposed to look like. Saturday was the clearest picture of it I’ve seen.
The people behind it were not professional organizers. A retired CDC scientist spent his morning holding a sign and waving people in. The whole thing was put together by a former federal worker who has spent the past few months making calls to volunteers and working with local boards of election. These are people who spent their careers in public service and found another way to serve their neighbors.
It also mattered where this happened. Clarkston is often called the most diverse square mile in America. For decades, refugees and immigrants from all over the world have settled there, started businesses, earned their citizenship, and put down roots. On Saturday, you could see that whole history in one room: Afghan families, a community group wrapping a martial arts program, retirees, veterans, a banjo circle. People who might never otherwise share a Saturday came together around the simple act of voting. Nobody needed to agree on anything to be glad the others were there.
Project HALO’s goal is simple. We want every voter to feel safe, confident, and supported, and we want voting to feel like what it is: one of the most ordinary and remarkable things we do together. A friendly presence at the polls sets the tone.
But the deeper goal is to help everyday Americans build the habit of showing up for their communities, and to leave them feeling like they belong to this country and have a real voice in it.
Most of what we see of civic life happens in big marble buildings. Our feeds are full of clips of one official taking a shot at another, or a speech aimed at a group of people for who they are or what they believe. It is easy to come away thinking that is all citizenship is: an argument you either win or lose.
Saturday was a reminder that civic life is much bigger than our arguments. It is the whole experience of living alongside other people and sharing responsibility for a place. Most of it happens locally, in small acts, among neighbors, in rooms like the one my son and I walked into. Those small acts are what civic renewal looks like, and they can be joyful.
In fact, they should be.
Clarkston was one of roughly 160 Project HALO events happening across the country this election season. Some are bigger, many are smaller. Our smallest events are what you would expect, just a simple table with some cookies and music for people as they leave a polling place. Or a group of veterans at a library supporting students as they learn how to vote for the first time. None of it has to be big, and that is the part that excites me most.
So much right now feels high-stakes, even existential, and I understand why. There are a lot of problems that need fixing. We’re fighting a never-ending series of wars. We’re watching our economy get taken over by a few ultra-wealthy people at the top. Our communities face historic disinvestment, and we are being driven deeper and deeper into polarization.
It’s no wonder we are asking ourselves whether our nation can long endure.
What I saw on Saturday offers a glimpse of the answer. It came from neighbors who showed up for each other while doing their civic duty, and who were kind to one another along the way.
My son won’t remember who was on the ballot this year. I hope he remembers the bell, the music, and a room full of strangers who were glad to see each other. I hope he remembers the kindness of people who want to build a better future.
That is the country I want him to grow up in, and it is one we build ourselves.
I’m grateful to the Project HALO team, the Clarkston volunteers, and everyone who walked through that door. If you want to be part of it, you can sign up at halovote.org/volunteer.
