Fellow Posts

By Saffron March ’27 (DCI Fellow)

The first time I left a deliberation without clarity or closure, I felt like something had gone wrong. The conversation ended politely enough. Everyone spoke. No one stormed out. But the disagreement that brought us together was still there, intact and unresolved. Walking away, I kept replaying the discussion in my head, wondering what question I should have asked differently or which moment I should have pushed further. I had absorbed the idea, often unspoken but deeply ingrained, that a good conversation ends with agreement or at least a clear path forward. Without that, the experience felt unfinished and, frankly, uncomfortable.

Over time, I’ve learned that this discomfort is not a failure of deliberation. In many cases, it is the point.

Sitting with unresolved disagreement can feel like holding tension in your body. There is a subtle urge to tidy things up, to smooth over differences with a compromise that no one fully believes in, or to label the conversation a success simply because it stayed civil. Silence at the end of a session can feel heavy rather than reflective. As a participant or facilitator, it’s tempting to fill that space with a summary that leans toward consensus, even if the group never truly reached one.

What I’ve come to realize is that this impulse often comes from a desire for emotional relief rather than deliberative integrity. Disagreement creates uncertainty. It reminds us that reasonable people can interpret the same facts and values in fundamentally different ways. Leaving that tension unresolved means accepting that understanding does not always lead to alignment. That can feel deeply unsatisfying, especially in a culture that prizes solutions, outcomes, and decisiveness.

Learning to sit with unresolved disagreement has required a shift in how I define progress. Instead of asking whether the group agreed, I now ask different questions. Did participants feel heard without being pressured to concede? Did anyone articulate their position more clearly than when they arrived? Did the group uncover underlying values or assumptions that had previously gone unspoken? Often, the answer to these questions is yes, even when the final positions remain unchanged.

This shift has also changed how I think about respect. Respect is not demonstrated by reaching consensus at all costs. Sometimes, it looks like allowing someone to leave a conversation still disagreeing, without trying to persuade them one last time. It looks like acknowledging the limits of the discussion and resisting the urge to force emotional closure. In this sense, unresolved disagreement can be a sign that participants took one another seriously enough not to settle for superficial agreement.

There is also something quietly human about ending a conversation without resolution. Real life rarely offers neat conclusions. Many of the issues we deliberate about are complex, value-laden, and tied to lived experiences that cannot be reconciled in a single discussion. Deliberation does not erase these complexities. At its best, it helps us carry them more thoughtfully.

Accepting unresolved disagreement does not mean giving up on understanding or change. Instead, it means recognizing that deliberation is often cumulative. A conversation that feels unfinished today may shape how participants listen, speak, or reflect tomorrow. The impact may show up later, in a different setting, or in a quieter internal shift that no one names out loud.

I still feel the pull toward consensus. I still notice the discomfort when a conversation ends with open questions rather than answers. But I’ve learned to see that discomfort as a signal that something real happened. Sitting with unresolved disagreement asks us to practice patience, humility, and trust in the process. It reminds us that deliberation is not about tying everything up neatly, but about learning how to stay engaged even when the knot remains.

By Oliver Genovese ’28 (DCI Fellow)

Working through the topic of immigration in our D Team has been one of the most meaningful parts of my experience as a DCI Fellow. Immigration is a subject that can easily become polarized in national conversations, but our group approached it with a commitment to robust deliberation that allowed us to move beyond the surface-level debates seen so often online or in the news. In fact, our meetings on this topic reminded me of how rare and valuable truly robust deliberation can be when people intentionally create space for it.

What struck me first was the diversity of experiences and perspectives in the room. Some of us had personal or family connections to immigration, while others had mostly encountered the topic through academic study or public discourse. Instead of treating these differences as obstacles, our group used them as starting points for robust deliberative discourse, a kind of conversation that is structured, reflective, and grounded in mutual respect. It was refreshing to see how much insight can emerge when people are genuinely willing to learn from one another through robust deliberative discourse rather than trying to score points or “win” an argument.

The deliberative skills we’ve been practicing throughout the Fellows Program played a major role in shaping these conversations. Asking clarifying questions, listening for underlying values, and acknowledging complexity helped us stay focused on understanding rather than reacting. These skills are simple in theory but surprisingly powerful in practice. When applied consistently, they create the conditions for robust deliberation, the kind that can hold multiple perspectives without collapsing into confusion or conflict.

Immigration, like many difficult social issues, carries strong emotions and complicated histories. What impressed me most was how our group handled those emotions with care. We didn’t avoid them or dismiss them. Instead, the structure of deliberation allowed us to channel those feelings into thoughtful reflection. This structure didn’t limit the conversation; it strengthened it. It allowed for robust deliberative discourse that respected personal stories while also making room for broader ethical and practical considerations. In moments when the topic could have become overwhelming, that framework helped us stay grounded and engaged.

Another thing that stood out was the shared values that surfaced again and again, even among group members who approached immigration from different angles. Concepts like dignity, fairness, opportunity, and safety came up frequently, not because we were trying to force consensus, but because robust deliberative discourse makes those connections visible. It encourages people to look beyond their initial positions and consider what motivates those positions. That process doesn’t eliminate disagreement, but it makes the disagreements far more constructive.

By the end of our discussions, I didn’t walk away with a single, clear-cut answer to the question of what immigration policy should look like. But that wasn’t the purpose of our meetings. The goal was to engage in robust deliberation that deepened our understanding, expanded our perspectives, and strengthened our ability to facilitate challenging topics with empathy and curiosity. And in that sense, the experience was incredibly successful.

Our immigration D Team reminded me that robust deliberative discourse is not just an abstract concept we study; it is a practical tool that can transform how people engage with even the most difficult issues. When a group commits to listening carefully, speaking thoughtfully, and staying open to complexity, the result is a conversation that is not only more productive but also more humanizing. That is the kind of dialogue our communities need more of, and it’s exactly what the DCI Fellows Program prepares us to create.

By Bolling Lewis ’28 (DCI Fellow)

In the United States, there are few aspects of society that unite people as powerfully as sports. Whether it’s Superbowl Sunday, the World Cup, or the NBA Finals, there are events in professional competition where people in different cities and countries share the same moment in real time. Universally, soccer fans remember the 2022 Argentina vs. France World Cup Final, and even casual NBA followers remember the 2016 Cleveland Cavaliers 3-1 series comeback. These collective memories create common ground among people with completely different life circumstances.

However, at the core of sports is an adversarial encounter. The zero-sum approach to matches and games means that one team’s success comes at the expense of another’s; when I cheer for a player at Wimbledon, I cannot witness my desired outcome without the opposition losing. The harsh reality of winning and losing in sports is misaligned with the idea of deliberation and community building. On paper, what people gain from the common experience of watching sports with millions of strangers can theoretically be taken away by the natural debate and animosity that competition instills. Yet, within the sports community, there are plenty of examples of deliberation and productive conversation that give reason to believe otherwise.

One of the leading examples of positive sports discussion is “Get Up.” A two-hour ESPN program that starts at 8 AM, the show primarily focuses on professional football and basketball. The first fifteen minutes usually contain highlights of games from the previous day along with complementary statistics; however, as time progresses, the dynamic shifts to commentary and opinions about players and teams. The host, Mike Greenberg (known by most as “Greeny”) is the facilitator. He dictates the topic of discussion and permits different analysts time to voice their stance. He once said about not dominating the conversation, but facilitating, “It was the first thing I learned when I started. An old boss said to me, “Your job is to reflect interest, not to create it.”^[1] Therefore, rarely does Greenberg involve himself other than to play devil’s advocate with other members in the dialogue or ask probing questions to better understand certain viewpoints.

The analysts who sit at the table with Greenberg provide an array of perspectives. For example, when discussing football, “Get Up” incorporates experts such as Dan Orvolosky, Damien Woody, and Adam Schefter. Orvolosky is a former quarterback for the Detroit Lions. He brings an offense-oriented approach and helps viewers better understand a QB’s mindset. Damien Woody was an offensive guard who won multiple Super Bowls with the New England Patriots. Woody provides essential insight into the physical demands of football and the obstacles players face over a long season. Finally, Adam Schefter is an NFL reporter. He provides the conversation with information concerning player injuries and potential trades. Together, the crew’s diverse areas of expertise make the discussion more enlightening, but also smooth and effective. All of the people on the show see things differently, and even though they are often passionate about their beliefs, they respect other people’s opinions.

On Thanksgiving morning, “Get Up” focused its deliberation on the game between the Dallas Cowboys and the Kansas City Chiefs, which was to occur later that afternoon. One question Greenberg raised was who would be the most influential Cowboy if Dallas were to win. Woody argued that Quinnen Williams, a defensive lineman, would be the difference-maker. However, fellow analyst Josh McCourtney, a former NFL cornerback, disagreed. He believed that recently healed linebacker, DeMarvion Overshown, would determine the outcome of the game. Despite their fundamentally different stances, they were well-mannered and gave each other plenty of time to explain their reasoning.

When emotions run high in sports, it is often difficult to think rationally. Facts and statistics may tell one story, but team and city loyalties can easily override logic. “Get Up,” however, shows how potentially divisive topics can become constructive conversation when the participants bring varied perspectives and basic courtesy. The analysts may disagree, but their respect for one another ensures that the discussions remain productive and even enjoyable for both those at the table and the viewers at home.

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^[1]https://news.northwestern.edu/stories/2013/10/mike-greenberg-brings-radio-show-to-campus

By Sharon Song ’28 (DCI Fellow)

As a Biology and Genomics major, I’ve spent most of my undergraduate training solidifying the idea that discussions are rigid and absolute. Every theorem must balance perfectly, every cellular pathway traced with care, every conclusion verified beyond doubt. Precision is a virtue; ambiguity, a shadow to be chased away.

When I joined the Deliberative Citizenship Initiative, I stepped into a space that felt both unfamiliar and quietly disarming, where answers did not wait at the finish line, and resolution was not the ultimate goal. At first, this deeply unsettled me; my instinct, honed by the drilling of data, proofs, and analysis, is to find certainty where it did not exist previously. But deliberation is not a problem to solve. It is a space to cultivate curiosity and to nurture mutual understanding.

There’s something profoundly human about deliberation. Unlike the structured world of hypotheses and proofs, deliberation breathes through the unique stories, emotions, and the intricate tapestry of lived experiences that deliberators bring to the table. It reminds me that knowledge isn’t built only in laboratories or lecture halls but built in moments of genuine listening and empathy. When people share how their lives have shaped what they believe, they’re offering a kind of truth that no experiment could ever capture or quantify.

DCI has taught me the value of slowing down, of resisting the pull towards immediate conclusions instead of lingering in the complexity and richness of a difficult conversation. I’ve learned that disagreement does not always have a negative connotation; there is an art to sitting with difference and silence, and in hearing another person’s perspective not as a challenge to defend against, but as a gift to receive with care.

What continues to surprise me is how this practice of deliberation has begun to reshape the way I see science itself. I once viewed science as something purely objective, detached from emotion or moral weight. But now I see how curiosity and compassion can coexist in guiding inquiry in ways that make discovery not just a pursuit of knowledge, but an act of empathy. Every scientific question begins with wonder; a quiet desire to understand something larger than oneself. And every discovery, no matter how technical, ultimately tells a human story. Deliberation and science, as I’ve come to realize, are not opposites but parallels. They are two distinct languages that seek the same truth, and both demand humility. Both remind us that learning begins when we acknowledge how little we truly know. 

This is what I love most about deliberation: it restores humanity to the act of learning more about those around us. It reminds me that wisdom isn’t measured by how much we know, but by how deeply we listen and effectively engage with one another in fostering a fruitful conversation. In a world that often rewards quick answers, DCI has taught me something gentler, and perhaps more radical: the quiet courage of asking better questions.

By Abigail Barkley ’28 (DCI Fellow)

In recent years there has been a rise in younger US citizens being politically active. Much of this rise is tied to social media and the accessibility of political information. While this is a positive trend, the discourse over social media leads to misinformation, a rise in polarization of views, and has inspired political violence and hate speech. These issues are what we try to tackle in the Deliberative Citizenship Initiative (DCI) through our Deliberative Forums and D Teams. While this is something that Davidson students and Davidson community residents can benefit from, there is not much practice in teaching deliberation skills to the wider population of young individuals. Teaching this in schools would provide students with the skill set to contribute to discourse in a productive way as they approach voting age and enter into the public sphere.

Because political research on individuals who cannot vote is limited, it is not clear how individuals in late Gen-Z and Gen-Alpha are affected by politics and social media. Most are present on social media sites; “Up to 95% of youth ages 13–17 report using a social media platform, with more than a third saying they use social media ‘almost constantly.’ (Office of the Surgeon General 2023) Because of this constant exposure to unregulated and informal discourse, it is becoming evident that there should be an example of how to participate in contentious conversations in a civil and productive manner.

Schools are an ideal place to teach kids conversational skills as they apply to controversial topics. Some schools provide opportunities for debate teams through extracurricular clubs or advanced courses. However, this is not available to the average student. Even when opportunities for debate are available, debate does not nurture the kind of conversation that deliberation provides. Debate is based in arguing a point with the intention of proving yourself to be correct. Deliberation allows for an environment that encourages participants to talk in a structured yet unscripted and natural manner that focuses on building understanding between those involved.

Instruction in deliberative methods in schools would provide students with an example of productive discourse. Because many have never been exposed to deliberative conversations, they need explicit instruction and modeling in order to convey their opinions as well as listen and disagree respectfully. Teaching students some seeds of deliberation such as, “Can you help me understand…?” to convey open-mindedness or “Building on what you just said…” to show attentiveness. Through explicit instruction across content disciplines, students could come to understand the key Deliberative Dispositions. Lessons on Deliberation would require students to: slow down their thinking, sit with ambiguity, value listening as much as speaking, hold competing truths at the same time, and reconsider positions in light of new evidence or stories. This isn’t something that should be done with the motivation that students will become political influencers or spend huge amounts of time arguing their points; it is a hope that they will carry deliberative values into their everyday conversations; with family, classmates, coworkers, or even strangers.