Navigating Divisiveness: Seeing Our Power and Influence

Guest Author: Minnu Paul, Director of Global Education

I noticed something that made me pause. Conversations about politics, gender, and social issues weren’t just tense—they were consuming. And I realized—I was part of it. Just as passionate, just as defensive, just as certain that I was “right.”

Over time, I began noticing how this affected me—not just mentally, but physically. My body would tense. I felt exhausted listening to frustration and hostility. And it made me wonder: why do these conversations have such a hold on us, even when we care deeply about doing good?

Do I want to contribute to the social contagion that is breeding divisiveness?

I started to see cognitive blocks that keep us from recognizing our own power and influence.

Many of us hesitate to acknowledge our privilege. We compare ourselves to those with far more—money, influence, or visibility—and in doing so, we feel powerless. We see ourselves as “average,” and the cycle continues—we overlook the ways we do have influence.

We also tend to oversimplify others’ decisions. We think, “If I were in their position, I would do it differently,” without seeing the full context, the knowledge they had, or the constraints they were navigating. This is not about justifying choices—it’s about recognizing how easily we reduce complexity into black-and-white judgments.

And there’s another block: the assumption that meaningful impact only comes with wealth, power, or authority. Influence is a skill. Civic engagement is a practice. Leadership is learned over time.

We might think we already understand our circle of influence and our relationship to civic engagement. In some ways we probably do. But it may also require reimagining. Our ideas about responsibility, voice, and participation are shaped by what we learned in school, the messages we absorbed throughout adulthood, and the environments we move through every day. Even thoughtful, high-functioning people carry patterns of thinking and limiting beliefs that quietly shape how we interpret the world.

Sometimes understanding our influence requires interrogating those assumptions—talking things through with others, noticing our emotional reactions, and asking whether frustration toward distant actors is replacing reflection on our own role. It is also about holding ourselves accountable when our own actions or words don’t align with the very values we criticize in others. 

And there is another honest constraint: time. Many of us are balancing work, family, and personal responsibilities. When we recognize that we may not have the capacity to engage deeply in every issue, that realization can create humility—especially in moments when we feel the urge to point fingers.

If we do not practice now—by noticing our influence, testing our voice, and reflecting on our choices—we won’t develop the muscle memory, resilience, and elasticity needed to act effectively later.

Most of us see ourselves as good people who want to do good—yet we often act without fully understanding the complexity of what “doing good” actually requires. Does it mean good until convenient? And what are the operational factors that deter or propel us to actually do good?

I don’t have a solution yet. I’m not claiming a roadmap for navigating divisiveness. But I am noticing patterns, reflecting on habits, and exploring a path forward.

One framework that helps me think about it is what I call the Layers of Civic Responsibility:

• Individual: How do I manage my own reactions, habits, and mindset so I can be constructive?

• Family: How do I model engagement, curiosity, and empathy in my immediate circle?

• Community: How do I participate in local spaces—schools, workplaces, neighborhoods—to practice influence?

• National: How do these smaller layers build toward awareness and action in broader society?
  

This isn’t about doing everything perfectly, or even quickly. It’s about practice. About asking honest questions:

• What does civic engagement mean for me right now?

• How well do I understand the processes shaping my community and society?

• What short-term actions can I take that are meaningful without stretching myself beyond capacity?

• Who in my communities is already doing the work I want to support or learn from?
  

This is a path, not a destination. Navigating divisiveness—and learning to influence responsibly—takes reflection, humility, and repeated practice. It is developmental. It requires patience, curiosity, and the willingness to notice our own patterns before expecting change elsewhere.

Maybe the first step is simply noticing where our influence begins—pausing long enough to see it, practicing awareness, and showing up in small but intentional ways. These moments, repeated over time, build the capacity to act thoughtfully, to engage constructively, and to respond rather than react. It is about curiosity, humility, accountability, and the willingness to examine ourselves before judging others.

Every small act of reflection or engagement becomes part of a larger practice—a path toward understanding, meaningful influence, and the possibility of a more connected, compassionate community.