Over 225 years ago, in 1800, Thomas Jefferson wrote, “I never considered a difference of opinion in politics, in religion, in philosophy, as cause for withdrawing from a friend.” I find myself thinking about that quote often lately, especially as we approach America’s 250th anniversary and look honestly at how we talk to each other today.

At 22 years old, my experience of national events has almost entirely come through a phone screen. “Doomscrolling” became a common phrase during the once-in-a-lifetime pandemic my generation lived through. I watched an attempted assassination of a president live on television. I have seen shootings, protests, and political violence spread across social media within minutes. Before all the facts were known, opinions were already formed, shared, and defended as if they were facts themselves, and division already begun.

When I talk to my parents and reflect on stories from my late grandmother, the contrast is striking. My parents remember watching the attacks of September 11th and the attempted assassination of President Reagan. My grandmother told me about where she was when President Kennedy was assassinated and the civil rights movement of the 1960s. While those events were also broadcast quickly, they remember something different. People talked things through with family, friends, and coworkers over time. Regardless of party, there was space to process what happened before being pressured to react publicly. That difference matters.

We are seeing the consequences of that loss of space in today’s conversation about immigration and nearly every other major issue. Immigration is a serious topic involving border security, the rule of law, and human dignity. It deserves careful debate. Instead, social media reduces complex issues into short clips, emotional headlines, and comment sections that turn policy disagreements into team sports. Anger spreads faster than understanding, and nuance rarely survives.

What is striking to many in my generation is that this division is not driven solely by politicians or political parties. It is driven by platforms that reward outrage regardless of ideology. Social media algorithms do not care whether a post is conservative or liberal. They amplify whatever provokes the strongest reaction. The loudest voices rise to the top, while thoughtful ones are buried. Over time, this trains people to see their neighbors not as individuals, but as caricatures.

A friend told me this summer, “The Ohio Valley lives and breathes on Facebook drama.” It was meant half jokingly, but it rings true. When people can hide behind a screen name, react with a laughing emoji, or block someone they have never met in real life, it becomes easy to say things we would never say face to face. Social media removes the human cost of incivility, and our culture pays the price.

Disagreement itself is not the problem. Our country was built on it. The danger comes when disagreement turns into dehumanization. When every issue becomes a moral test and every opponent becomes an enemy, productive conversation becomes impossible.

That is why the idea of disagreeing better matters. The Disagree Better movement, led by Utah Governor Spencer Cox, gained national attention after the assassination of Charlie Kirk in September.

Disagreeing better does not mean giving up your beliefs or pretending differences do not exist. It means standing firm while still treating the other person like a human being.

Regardless of what the president does or what happens in the halls of Congress, most of us will never directly change the minds of lawmakers or executives. But we do control something just as important. We control how we think about our neighbors, how we speak online, and how quickly we rush to judgment. Our individual mindset matters more than we often realize.

Younger generations see how dangerous this moment is. We see how quickly outrage spreads, how easily people are pushed into camps, and how social media profits from division. We also see that this path is not sustainable.

Civility is not old-fashioned, and it is not surrender. It is a choice. If we want better conversations about immigration and about the future of this country, we need to slow down, resist outrage, and remember that disagreement does not require contempt.

So here is the ask. Log off when you need to. Think before you post. Treat people you disagree with like neighbors, not enemies. We may not be able to control national politics, but we can choose, every day, to disagree better and strengthen our communities where it actually counts.