Civic Friendship Is the Work: Why Strong Relationships Are the Path to Real Change
In my work, I say this a lot:
Building strong relationships isn’t a step in the work - it is the work.
Not a nice-to-have. It is an essential strategy.
In my work across Stanislaus County—in public agencies, in schools, in nonprofits, and in communities—this belief guides me. If we want to create real, lasting impact in our communities, we have to start by creating real, lasting relationships with each other.
And lately, I’ve been thinking about an old idea that gives new language to what I’m trying to build:
Civic friendship.
Civic Friendship: A Framework for Action & Belonging
The term comes from Aristotle, one of the most influential philosophers in Western thought, who argued that friendship among citizens was essential to a healthy democracy. Civic friendship isn’t about personal closeness or shared hobbies - we don’t have to like each other. It’s not that you’d grab a drink with someone. It’s that you’re willing to be influenced by them. It’s a school board member hearing out a parent they disagree with and seeing the policy in a new light because of it.
In a time of deep polarization, rising cynicism, and institutional fatigue, civic friendship might sound idealistic - naive even. But in my experience, it's one of the most courageous—and transformative—commitments we can make.
Civic friendship is what allows a community to stay in the room together, even when things get uncomfortable. It’s two people with different views sitting through a hard conversation, not walking out, not shutting down, but staying with it long enough to really hear each other. It’s what turns disagreement into dialogue. It’s what makes systems worthy of trust and communities capable of healing.
This concept gained national attention when conservative scholar Robert George and progressive activist Cornel West—two intellectuals with deep differences—coauthored a Washington Post op-ed in 2025. In this piece, George and West urge Americans to revive the tradition of civic friendship. They wrote:
“We need to model the kind of civic friendship that makes democracy possible. That means listening. That means humility. That means extending to others the same good faith and presumption of decency we wish for ourselves.”
Their call echoes what I see every day in my work: the courage to stay connected when walking away would be easier. The power of recognizing each other’s full humanity, when we vote, worship, or live and think differently.
What Civic Friendship Looks Like in Stanislaus County
Let me give you some glimpses of what this looks like in the real world:
When law enforcement officers and community members—especially those currently and historically less trusting of policing—sit in a room and listen to each other without defensiveness or shame, that’s civic friendship.
When frontline staff in a public agency are asked how to improve services—and their everyday experience helps shape real solutions—that’s civic friendship.
When school district leaders co-design youth wellbeing strategies with students and families, instead of for them, that’s civic friendship.
When system leaders stop asking “What’s wrong with this family?” and start asking “What happened to them—and how will we contribute to what happens next?”—that’s civic friendship.
And in each of these examples, what’s underneath the visible progress is something quieter and more powerful: a relationship built on trust, mutual dignity, and the willingness to stay in the work - especially when we disagree.
Strong Relationships Are Civic Friendship in Practice
Here’s what I’ve learned: you can have the best policy, the most efficient data dashboard, the most ambitious strategic plan—but if the people inside the system don’t trust each other, it won’t work.
Why? Because community impact doesn’t live in ideas. It lives in relationships. It lives in our willingness to share the work, the risk, the discomfort—and the credit.
Here’s why that matters:
Collaboration and Collective Action: Strong relationships allow people to work together across lines of difference—departments, sectors, ideologies—to solve problems that none of us can tackle alone.
Shared Vision and Trust: When we slow down enough to build relationships, we start to see and hear each other differently. That opens the door to alignment, to shared vision, and to lasting impact.
Sustainability: Relationships are what keep people engaged when the budget gets cut, the grant runs out, or the headlines shift. People stay committed when they feel connected.
Learning and Adaptation: In healthy relationships, people feel safe enough to reflect honestly, name what’s not working, and try again. That kind of feedback loop is what allows change to evolve and stick.
Community Building: At the end of the day, systems are made of people. Communities are made of people. And people on all “sides” need to feel seen, valued, and part of something larger than themselves.
Contrary to what I hear with some frequency, this isn’t soft stuff. It’s the hardest part—and the most essential.
This Is the Work
In my work, I don’t show up with magic answers. I show up with questions. I create containers for curiosity, honesty, and transformation. I ask people to consider: What kind of relationships do we need to reach the kind of impact we say we want?
Because here’s what I know: We don’t build trust with the community by writing it into a strategic plan. We build trust by earning it—in the room, in the moment, in the messy middle.
And we don't create civic friendship by talking about it. We create it by practicing it.
Civic friendship is not a sentiment. It’s a strategy.
It’s showing up when it’s easier to walk away.
It’s listening when defending yourself would be quicker.
It’s standing next to someone you don’t fully agree with because both of you believe the community matters more than your opinion.
It’s not fast. It’s not a linear process. It’s not perfect. But it’s how the real work gets done.
And if we want to change the world—or even just make our corner of it a little more humane—this is where we begin.