Two years ago, I joined a Sisterhood of Salaam Shalom local chapter in Manhattan. The Sisterhood brings together equal numbers of Jewish and Muslim women in intimate chapters of between 10-20 members, all across America.  The goal is to build personal bonds, improve knowledge and literacy about the two religions, dispel misconceptions, fight hate, and model how to live together with respect, dignity, and love. In short, participation in the Sisterhood transforms strangers into friends, and friends into sisters.

Immigration has never been more polarized. But it wasn’t always that way. In 2005, Republicans and Democrats were only about five percentage points apart in their views on immigration. By 2019, that gap had widened to 47%. Currently, 78% of Democrats regard immigration as positive, while only 31% of Republicans do. 

Ushering in a more just and inclusive America can seem like a daunting prospect in a time of heightened conflict and division. Polarization creates incentives for each camp to hunker down, look inward, and activate its in-group or base. The self-perpetuating and self-reinforcing nature of this oppositional cycle makes it hard to transcend and see another path forward. So too does the in-group policing that creates the pressure to stay in a silo of the like-minded rather than connecting with skeptics or those who hold conflicting or even opposing views.

Entrenched polarization, i.e., extreme political division, is a fixture of public discourse and attitudes in America today. When the pandemic surfaced in March, many wondered whether it would foster greater solidarity across traditional fault lines and divides (e.g., red/blue, rural/urban, rich/poor U.S. born/immigrant), exacerbate existing divisions, or create new ones.