How do we bring people together when it feels like our society is breaking apart?
How can we unleash a greater sense of shared responsibility among us?
How can we be a part of something larger than ourselves to truly make a difference in our communities?
How can we personally find the courage and humility to take such a path?
Rich Harwood helps find the answers. Over the past 30 years, Rich has innovated and developed a new philosophy and practice of how communities can solve shared problems, create a culture of shared responsibility and deepen people’s civic faith.
The Harwood practice of Turning Outward has spread to all 50 U.S. States and is being used in 40 countries. Rich has helped solve some of the most challenging problems in the hardest-pressed communities in America. His experience working on the ground to build capacity and coalitions for change gives him a unique, powerful insight on bridging divides.
If you want to inspire and mobilize people in your community or group to take a new perspective on how we can get things done together, then bring Rich to speak and meet with your key stakeholders.
As I travel across the country on my new speaking tour, I am hearing a growing readiness and restlessness for a new, hopeful path forward where we can bring out the best in us, the best of us. This is good news—and I find myself reflecting deeply on it as Easter and Passover are upon us.
Last week, in Oak Park, IL, right outside Chicago, I kicked off my two-year, nationwide speaking tour. I’ll have more to say about the tour in the coming days. But, for now, I simply want to talk about why I decided to wear an American flag lapel pin at each tour event and why I have chosen to openly discuss it in my speeches. Many people are downright surprised by this.
I grew up in a small town in upstate New York where lots of people owned guns for hunting. Now, each summer, alone with my two dogs, I go for two weeks to a cabin in the heart of the Adirondack Mountains; this is even more rural and remote upstate New York, where even more people own guns and hunt. Hunting is an act of joy for many people. But when guns become a political weapon, nothing good comes of it.
Dear Governor: Having to cancel the first stop of your “racial reconciliation tour” at Virginia Union University is a sign of just how difficult your road ahead is. What will you do from here? You face a fundamental choice. Is your reconciliation tour about your own political survival, or can you become an instrument of society?
Watching the unfolding events in Virginia this past week has only deepened my personal commitment and drive to address two key topics: identity and sorrow. These will be a new focus of our Studio on Community moving forward.
In September of 1964, King visited the Berlin Wall and spoke about “breaking down the dividing walls of hostility” that can separate people from one another. As MLK Day approaches, and our nation is mired in a seemingly endless impasse over building a wall on our southern border, I can’t help but think about Martin Luther King, Jr.’s urgings to tear down the walls that stand between us.
Just last week I was in Israel and visited the West Bank city of Bethlehem, where a young Palestinian man, Noor, took me around. As we turned a corner in the city, all of a sudden I confronted the wall that separates the West Bank and Israel. Up close, it is huge, imposing, cold and haunting. Here in the U.S., the federal government shutdown enters week three, locked in a showdown over a wall between the U.S. and Mexico. I wonder, what is the meaning of such walls?
In just one hour this morning, I read or heard a series of news stories that made me wonder if the world is spinning out of control and if there is anything you or I or anyone else can do about it. Or, do we simply have to wait for some new political savior to get things right? Amid my moment of helplessness and exasperation, I know we must not wait.
The incredibly nasty midterm elections have finally passed. Now what? I believe you don’t need to lie down and accept the current state of affairs, but that there are five practical steps you can take to engender more hope in our lives, communities and society.
On Saturday, I didn’t move an inch from my couch from the morning until midnight as I watched in horror the unfolding scenes from Pittsburgh. As a practicing Jew, I feel a bottomless sorrow; as a devoted American, I feel emboldened. As a person who cares deeply about the health of our nation, I feel we must act.