Empathy can move a nation

Published 1:30 am Wednesday, July 30, 2025

During a recent conversation with folks from across Kansas, someone shared a story about a child speaking disrespectfully to a parent in public.

As they told the story, their body language shifted, their tone tightened, and it was clear they were reliving the moment with visible intolerance.

The story was presented as evidence of a parent who simply didn’t care about how their child spoke to them.

That moment opened a broader discussion on parenting, “out of control” kids, and the belief that today’s parents need to do better.

As a child trauma therapist, I’ve seen those moments play out more times than I can count.

As a single mother many years ago, I was that parent.

And every time I found myself on the receiving end of glares, unsolicited advice, or outright judgment, I hoped the people watching wouldn’t break their ankles jumping to conclusions.

Instead, I prayed they’d walk, carefully, intentionally, down the path of empathy, if only for a few steps.

If they had asked (and most didn’t), they would have learned that I was a single mom working full time, going to school full time, and raising a child with undiagnosed autism.

Meltdowns, yelling, boundary-testing — those were daily experiences in our home.

Sometimes the goal was just to make it to bedtime without either of us breaking. I didn’t forget how I was raised.

I just had to decide which battles were worth fighting.

“Pick your battles” wasn’t a parenting strategy.

It was survival.

I needed to save my energy for the moments that felt like life or death, not for preserving the comfort of onlookers.

There’s a kind of disconnect I often see, especially from those who’ve never had to live in survival mode, or who didn’t even realize they were in survival mode because someone else was shielding them from it.

At some point, that child becomes an adult, and hopefully, they begin asking uncomfortable questions.

Why did we only eat rice for dinner every night? Why did we play “indoor camping” with candles and flashlights when it was not storming outside?

Those realizations matter.

They are the first cracks in the lens of innocence. And while childhood protection is necessary, it allows our children to hold onto wonder just a little longer.

It also can unintentionally create a bubble that limits compassion.

When that bubble stays intact too long, it can create adults who ignore a mother begging for her child to use a locked restroom because she hasn’t bought a drink yet.

A child who needs to use the bathroom urgently shouldn’t be up for a policy debate.

But when policy is prioritized over people, we become complicit in inflicting pain.

The question is: Do we want to be right, or do we want to be human?

Empathy is not about perfection.

It is not always convenient. But it is powerful.

It pauses judgment. It redirects the impulse to react and replaces it with a willingness to listen.

It opens the door for the kind of response that stings the eyes and chokes the throat, not out of guilt, but out of the realization that there’s a world we’ve been blind to.

Nicole Price, my mentor and a leadership strategist with a doctorate in education, recently posted about the shift in the Black vote from Republican to Democratic.

There is plenty of debate about what the actual turning point was. But the part we often miss is this: Coretta Scott King was desperate for her husband to be released from jail. She appealed to John F. Kennedy. As a result of his response, her father-in-law, Rev. Martin Luther King Sr., changed the course of an entire voting population with his voice.

Regardless of where you fall on the politics of that moment, the focus here is empathy.

Empathy moved her. It moved him. And in that moment, empathy moved a nation.

Empathy is not a weakness or passivity. It is a radical, active force that demands courage, humility, and perspective.

It is time for an empathy revolution.

In our families, in our communities, and in our politics, it is not enough to observe, we must choose to understand.

The next time you see a human being reaching their limit, pause without mocking or questioning their struggle.

Listen to their story, and then act with compassion. Because when we choose empathy, we don’t just change outcomes, we change the world.

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Washington State Standard is part of States Newsroom, the nation’s largest state-focused nonprofit news organization. This article was first published by the Kansas Reflector.