We hand out a lot of praise in public life — awards for courage, headlines for conviction, applause for the people who “take a stand.”
And yes, standing up for an idea or a person is brave. Speaking out carries risk. It can make you a target. It can also, without nuance and a way to call people in without calling them out, it can deepen a divide.
But there’s another kind of bravery we almost never talk about, mostly because it doesn’t come with a microphone.
I’ve had the privilege of spending the last couple of years meeting with a group of people who embody it — there's an informal network convened by the state Office of Collaboration and Dispute Resolution.
These people are the bridgers: the mediators, the connectors, the translators, the trust‑builders — the people who quietly keep our civic fabric from tearing.
Every community has these people. Sometimes they have formal roles or jobs that put their bridging skills to use. Sometimes, they're just that guy at church, or the woman in the neighborhood, who everybody seems to look to when community gets angsty.
They don't often win awards. They don't trend on social media. They don’t have quippy sound bites or viral takedowns. In fact, they generally avoid engaging on platforms where outrage is rewarded and there's no room for nuance.
When you believe only some people are worthy, anyone who insists on seeing worth in everyone feels like a threat.
Their work happens in rooms without cameras, in conversations that never get tweeted, in moments where a well‑timed joke or a carefully chosen phrase lowers the temperature just enough for people to stay in the room.
In a country struggling through what a surgeon general named a loneliness epidemic, bridgers do something deceptively simple: they make people feel seen. They remind us that belonging isn’t earned by agreeing, but just by being human. And that’s precisely why they draw the anger of moral absolutists.
When you believe only some people are worthy, anyone who insists on seeing worth in everyone feels like a threat.
KAXE is partnering with Majority in the Middle for election coverage, civic engagement and outreach. Majority in the Middle is a Minnesota nonprofit described as an objective, outside force for systemic change to improve transparency, participation and civility within political and civic life.
Listen to Executive Director Shannon Watson's essay above.
Find more information on November 2026 elections from the KAXE news team here.
-
Lorie Shaull/KAXENevaeh Kingbird, 15, was last seen October 2021. Jeremy Jourdain, 17, was last seen October 2016. Both cases remain unsolved as families find ways to cope and connect. -
Lorie Shaull/KAXEAn ongoing study from the Center of Rural Policy and Development found the importance of local college options and high school professional and technical classes. -
Contributed/Mark SauerRock Ridge and Pequot Lakes tennis players also qualified for the individual tournament, as did athletes from Staples-Motley and Crookston. -
Contributed/Nicole Neri / Minnesota ReformerDemuth argued that Klobuchar is aligned with Gov. Tim Walz and would govern similarly, while Klobuchar argued that Demuth would not stand up to President Donald Trump.
