Democracy and the Heart
What happens when you’re asked to heal a heart that was never whole?
I spent 25 years abroad in the service of my country, explaining the promise of democracy to citizens of newly democratic nations. My Foreign Service colleagues and I had all travelled different roads to get where we were, which meant we each had varied examples to share with our host country partners. But when we all lost our jobs in 2025, explaining democracy as something to uphold became difficult, even though we now found ourselves in the same situation, regardless of how we got there.
It was in this context that I picked up Parker J. Palmer’s Healing the Heart of Democracy, a book that asks Americans to look beyond our otherness and restore the social and communal bonds that shaped the early days of the republic. Palmer lays out a plea to start with our own individual hearts, to reweave bonds in families, congregations, neighbourhoods, and classrooms. He suggests five habits that may help return America to its promise of human equality.
I did not expect to have such a visceral reaction. It was a struggle to get through the initial chapters. Upon reflection, I realised I was comparing the author’s description of his life with my own reality. Since I am an American who can trace my lineage back five generations, sometimes I try to define myself as a “daughter and citizen” of this country. But then I consider all the rights and liberties that should be afforded with that distinction of being an American. Mixed sentiments well up: confusion, disappointment, longing, frustration, curiosity.
Where did I miss the roadmap to the American dream? Was there a school lesson on a day when I was out sick? Perhaps I would have encountered these privileges if I had remained stateside instead of spending the majority of my adulthood abroad in service of my country. And yes, I am a registered, active voter, yet something is off.
The book is worthwhile, even though I struggled with the opening chapter, which asks Americans to place our attention on our hearts. Palmer expounds the importance of the heart being at the centre of democracy. He encourages a “cracking open” instead of a “breaking” in order to repair what has been damaged. He places responsibility on the individual who owns that heart.
He acknowledges his own privilege, and this is what distinguishes us: two Americans experiencing completely different relationships with democracy. We are of different genders, races, and religions, coming from different socioeconomic backgrounds.
One of us is currently married with a family.
One of us has never had their professional credentials questioned.
“And isn’t there a risk to heart-centred softening in an environment where you are often not engaged democratically”
One of us can secure a home loan and live in any neighbourhood they choose.
One of us is not regarded with suspicion when browsing in expensive shops.
One of us can walk down any street alone without fear.
To be fair, there are things we share in common. Both well educated and widely travelled, with many opportunities for exposure to other cultures and distant lands. But that does not change the fact that the author and I are undoubtedly experiencing democracy in very different ways.
I didn’t need a book to know these differences. While working overseas in newly democratic nations, I felt the gap each time I tried to explain how democracy manifested itself back home. Unfortunately, I could not honestly say that all those manifestations were personal.
My interpretation of the book is that I must repair a heart that was broken from birth in order to soften it. And isn’t there a risk to heart-centred softening in an environment where you are often not engaged democratically? When your participation in the process is not requested, often unconsidered, or simply disregarded? What is democracy in an environment where your silence and disconnection are actually preferred?
I wanted to put down this book after the first chapter, but I finished it, and I am glad I did. It is a wonderful aspiration, even though it asks us to create something that never truly existed. At least not for everyone.
In a time when democracy is being unravelled, it is dreamy to think of what it could be if everyone, every day, makes the effort necessary to be heart-centred in both the public and private spaces around them. So, I’ll hold the author’s words at my heart’s centre, not as an aspiration for the America that was, but as a blueprint for the democracy we might yet build. One that exists for everyone.
