The Team That Forgot It Was a Team

They gave everything for an ideal. We can’t even agree on whether to help each other.

This Memorial Day, as we place flags on graves and post patriotic tributes, we should ask ourselves a harder question: are we living in a way that honors the ideals they died for? Because somewhere along the way, we stopped acting like a country that’s on the same team.

Once upon a time, we at least pretended to be on the same team.

Not always well. Not always inclusively.

But there was a shared ideal—a belief that the American project meant something, that being a citizen came with a sense of obligation to one another. We fought wars together, sent kids to public schools together, watched the same moon landing on the same flickering televisions. And we carried, if not a love, at least a tolerance for our neighbors who thought a little differently.

Now?

Now we are atomized. Splintered. Gutted by algorithmic politics and the kind of media that profits most when we distrust each other. We don’t argue to understand—we argue to destroy. We’ve traded reasoned disagreement for memes, and civic duty for online dunking contests.

We no longer act like a team. We act like a mob.

We’ve been convinced—by billionaire-funded think tanks, by ragebait TV, by performative politicians—that if they get something, you lose something. That every policy to help others is somehow aimed at taking something from you. We’ve been trained to see each other not as neighbors, but as threats. Prejudice has become political currency. Grievances, a kind of national pastime.

But here’s the hard truth: we are not going to survive this way. Not as a functioning democracy. Not as a place worth handing to the next generation. If the very idea of “we” collapses, the country goes with it. The rot spreads fast when you stop believing your fellow Americans deserve decency.

So what can we do?

Start small. Talk to people in good faith—especially those outside your bubble. Support leaders who build, not just those who tear down. Defend public schools, libraries, and parks—those increasingly rare places where Americans of different backgrounds actually share space. And most of all, refuse the bait. Don’t be manipulated by those who profit off your outrage.

Ignorance Isn't Bliss—It's a National Liability

We're not just divided—we're uninformed. A staggering number of Americans lack basic knowledge about how their government functions. According to the Annenberg Public Policy Center, only one in four Americans can name all three branches of government. This civic illiteracy isn't confined to adults; it's deeply rooted in our education system. The 2018 Brown Center Report reveals that while all 50 states have social studies standards, only 39 require at least one course in government or civics, and a mere 8 mandate a civics exam for graduation. Even more telling? A 2018 survey found that just 36% of native-born Americans could pass the U.S. citizenship test—a test we require immigrants to pass in order to become citizens.

This isn’t just trivia night failure—it’s dangerous.

The rule of law only works if people understand how it's made, how it's enforced, and how it's supposed to apply equally to everyone. Without that understanding, we get chaos—or worse, strongmen who promise to “fix it” by breaking it.

Misunderstandings about governmental processes fuel unrealistic expectations and disillusionment. For instance, the belief that manufacturing jobs can be rapidly "brought back" ignores decades of automation and globalization trends. Without a foundational understanding of civics and economics, citizens are susceptible to oversimplified narratives and demagoguery. To mend our fractured democracy, we must prioritize comprehensive civic education that empowers individuals with the knowledge to engage thoughtfully and effectively.

We need to reclaim the American idea that we lift people up not just because it's kind—but because it works. That when people are educated, healthy, and not desperate, they contribute. They build. They thrive. They don’t lash out, spiral into extremism, or sink into despair. They pay it forward.

And as we pause this Memorial Day to honor those who gave their lives for this country, let’s ask ourselves: are we living up to the promise they died for—or are we tearing it apart out of ignorance and spite?

If America is a team, we’re on the verge of forfeiting the game.

But we don’t have to.

We can remember what being a team means: not agreement on everything, but a shared sense that we’re in this together. That your neighbor’s dignity doesn’t diminish yours. That the promise of America was always rooted in the plural.

E pluribus unum.
Out of many, one.

Let’s remember that.