The future of our democracy needs civics education | Opinion

I sat with a group of my students in Jule’s Coffee Shop, our unofficial town hall in Cuba, Illinois, as they interviewed a group of retired educators and local “old timers,” including Peck. The 100-year-old former miner and World War II veteran is a living primary source, and he loves our kids fiercely, hoping the next generation inherits not just the stories of our town, but the responsibility to shape its future.

As the students talked with Peck, they weren’t just collecting stories. They were learning how to listen and how to understand their place in a community that existed long before they were born. They heard about the mines, the war, the closing of local factories, and what it meant to stick together through hard times. They were practicing civic skills without even realizing it. That’s when one student asked Peck what concerns him most about kids growing up in our small town today. He didn’t mention test scores or college readiness.

“Connection” he responded. He wasn’t criticizing young people themselves, but a growing lack of opportunities for young people to belong to something larger than themselves. 

That conversation reminded me why investing in relationship-centered learning experiences matters, especially in a place the world calls Forgottonia, where kids often grow up believing success is something that happens somewhere else.

Yet, this isn’t just a rural issue; it’s a generational one.

Gen Z is coming of age in a very different world, one shaped by screens, algorithms, and decreasing amounts of interaction. In fact, this generation spends nearly 1,000 fewer hours of face-to-face time each year than previous generations.

We simply can’t build a healthy democracy if young people struggle to talk to one another, especially across differences, zip codes, and lived experiences. If we care about the future of our country and its leadership, we must invest in programs that build student voice and belonging, particularly in communities that feel forgotten. Here are several ways to help rebuild the civic muscles our democracy desperately needs:

Creating relationship-based opportunities

Coffee shop interviews. Community storytelling. Local history walks. Cross-age mentoring programs. These low-cost, rural-friendly approaches help students practice real conversation, curiosity and civic identity. My students’ talk with Peck did more for their sense of belonging and purpose than any worksheet ever could, and it changed how they showed up in the community.

Afterward, students began partnering with our senior center volunteers, bonding over gardening, helping care for the veterans memorial on the town square, and learning that democracy is hands-on work. Those relationships even became mutual; students gave their time and community members showed up for them in return.

Connecting students across zip codes

This is where the Smithsonian’s Democracy in Dialogue Virtual Exchange (DiDVE) shines. Over 18 months and four semesters, it has engaged nearly 4,000 students across 30 states from Maine to Hawaii. It pairs rural schools like mine with urban, suburban, and rural communities to build empathy, dialogue skills, and civic awareness.

In my classroom, students connected over music and school lunches, like discovering that the Hawaiian students they’ve been paired with sometimes catch their lunch for the day in the waters near their school. Those small exchanges grew into deeper dialogue about democracy, identity, and local history. Students who were too nervous to turn on their cameras on day one ended up halfway through the semester asking if we could do the program again next year.

Foster an environment that wraps around

But connection shouldn’t stop at our school doors, especially in rural and under-resourced communities where the needs of students can’t be met alone.

Some — like the district in Vienna, Illinois — are building partnerships with neighboring schools and community organizations to provide what students need beyond academics: from career exploration to transportation and basic necessities, collaboratively creating relationship-based connections so our young people thrive. These wrap-around ecosystems could help small districts like mine offer opportunities that never would be possible otherwise. 

During that morning in Jule’s Coffee Shop, I remember one student leaning in and asking Peck what advice he’d give to young people today. Peck paused, smiled, and said: “Be part of something. Don’t drift.”

Since hearing that advice, more students are considering how their careers might allow them to contribute to our community rather than leave it behind. Some talk about becoming teachers or mentors so they can invest in younger students. 

Peck feared our students lacked connection, but that day he and the other old-timers offered them exactly what they needed. Rural students shouldn’t have to leave their communities to find their voice or their place in democracy.

And in a generation growing up in uncertain times, learning experiences that build voice, belonging, and civic connection shouldn’t be optional; they should be essential.

Joe Brewer is dean of students at Spoon River Valley CUSD #4 in Cuba, Illinois, and a Teach Plus Illinois Policy Fellowship alumnus.