Julio Cortez/AP

Supporters of President Donald Trump gather outside the Wyndham Hotel where the Pennsylvania Senate Majority Policy Committee is scheduled to meet, Nov. 25, 2020, in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.

President Donald Trump’s attempts to subvert an election he falsely claims to have won appear to be falling apart. The United States has likely avoided the sort of post-vote struggle for power that characterizes countries with less stable, shallowly rooted democracies.

But the extraordinary actions of the last three weeks could leave lasting marks on U.S. governance. Mr. Trump has identified many cracks and holes in America’s unwieldy, decentralized electoral system – and tested them to see what, if anything, might give.

The result has laid out a path for how others could push further in the future. The way the nation chooses its leader depends at many points on norms and traditions, as well as the goodwill of election workers and local and state officials. Recent weeks have highlighted how a candidate could conceivably manipulate or improperly influence events and key people – particularly if the candidate begins sowing doubts before the ballot, as Mr. Trump tried to do by attacking mail-in voting.

“Elections are the ways we resolve political differences peacefully, and he tried very hard to set up a false choice: one in which either he won or the system was broken,” says Myrna Pérez, director of the Brennan Center for Justice’s Voting Rights and Elections Program. “That really undermines the American system ... in which people choose their elected leaders – not the other way around.”

Trump’s four-pronged approach

Mr. Trump has refused to concede to President-elect Joe Biden and continues to insist that he has a path to reelection. On Wednesday he tweeted, “2020 is a long way from over!”

Many Republicans back the president’s resistance. A recent Economist/YouGov poll found that 84% of self-identified members of the GOP believe that Mr. Biden did not legitimately win the election.

But this week marked a turning point in the official transition of power, as the General Services Administration announced Monday that it would begin coordinating with the incoming Biden administration team. Mr. Biden is now receiving the classified President’s Daily Brief of sensitive intelligence information.

States with a total of 270 Electoral College votes – the margin needed for victory – have now certified a Biden victory.

Mr. Trump’s post-vote strategy to prevent the nation from reaching this point consisted of four things:

• Direct appeals to the nation that he was the 2020 winner, which began with a White House appearance in the wee hours after the polls closed and continued on Twitter.
• Court cases meant to stop vote counts or throw out duly cast ballots.
• Lobbying state and county officials to delay the certification of vote totals.
• Lobbying state legislators to ignore vote totals and seat pro-Trump electors.

Of these, the court cases have been the weakest link by far. While Trump lawyers and surrogates and right-leaning media have publicized what they claim to be evidence of voter fraud, those cases have largely dissolved upon close attention or constitute too few votes to make any difference. Judges have tossed virtually all the cases filed by the Trump legal team.

“Republican-appointed judges, Democratic-appointed judges, state and federal judges – they’ve all done their job and they’re acting as guardrails,” says Jessica Levinson, a professor at Loyola Law School and host of the “Passing Judgment” podcast.

Yet the court cases have still had an effect. They have meshed with the president’s communications strategy to portray the 2020 election as “stolen.” 

“The lawsuits themselves aren’t posing a legal obstacle. The dangerous thing is that there’s probably at least 40 to 50 million Americans who are buying falsehoods, lies, discredited conspiracy theories,” says Professor Levinson.

The president also broke norms by trying to interfere with the election process in some key states. He brought Michigan state Republican leaders to the White House while some of his surrogates on television were suggesting that those Republicans seat pro-Trump electors in the state, overruling Mr. Biden’s Michigan win. Mr. Trump and his allies also attacked Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger prior to the state’s vote certification – despite the fact that Mr. Raffensperger voted for him.

These precedents might encourage future losers, particularly in close elections, to decline to concede, file multiple lawsuits, push to overturn state results, and delegitimize the seating of their opponent, all in a hardball attempt to gain power.

“The goal was to undermine not only the election outcome, but our democratic processes,” says Ms. Pérez.

Strengthening trust in elections

One way to counter this might be more nationwide voting standards and procedures. That could reassure voters that their election systems reflect broad best practices. 

Easier registration, with standardized voter databases, would keep voters from being purged from rolls and help allay notional worries about fraud, writes Zeynep Tufekci, a University of North Carolina social scientist, in The New York Times.

Standardized and more common sharing of voter information between states could have the same effect. Required audits after elections – such as Georgia now has – could check for irregularities without the drama involved in asking for recounts or suing states to act.

Voting officials – the unsung heroes of this election cycle – need more resources to do their jobs, adds Ms. Pérez of the Brennan Center. Improved civics education could fill in the gaps in voters’ knowledge, so they have a better idea of when fraud claims are implausible.

Finally, citizens themselves need to stand for democracy.

“Voters need to tell our politicians in one very clear voice that we want free, fair, and accessible elections,” says Ms. Pérez. “We even want people who may not agree with us to have a free, fair, and accessible vote.” 

Gerald Lawrence takes copious notes as public comments submitted to the Delaware County Board of Elections in Pennsylvania are read out loud.

Some are congratulatory, thanking Mr. Lawrence and his colleagues for running a safe and secure election during a pandemic.

The vast majority, however, are not. 

A voter named Richard tells the board he believes there was serious fraud. Greg and Renee claim their votes weren’t counted. “Delaware County deserves a free and fair election, and I, for one, have zero confidence that this was the case,” asserts a voter named Robert. “Please do not certify this election.”

Mr. Lawrence patiently addresses the accusations one by one, trying his best to assure his constituents that claims of widespread fraud simply aren’t valid.

Typically, these certification meetings last 20 minutes and are unremarkable, sparsely attended affairs. Monday’s event was unlike anything Mr. Lawrence has experienced in his more than 15 years on the board. Streamed live on YouTube, it took nearly three hours.

“It’s gratifying to see so many people have a passionate interest in the political process and democracy this year,” says Mr. Lawrence. “But it’s disheartening that some in the community circulate misinformation in an attempt to mislead people.”

The past few weeks have thrust previously obscure election officials into the spotlight in ways few could have imagined. Working long hours to finalize vote counts amid unprecedented scrutiny and new levels of partisan distrust, they’ve endured criticism and death threats, along with grateful praise. And while it’s not over yet, the fact that the nation seems to have made it through this latest test is in some ways testament to the strength of its decentralized system – with scores of largely unknown officials, from county clerks to city commissioners, emerging as unsung heroes on the front lines of American democracy.  

Laurence Kesterson/AP

Garrett Dietz, Philadelphia's supervisor of elections, reports the election results to the Philadelphia City Commissioners while formally announcing the results of the computation of the ballots for the general election, at the Pennsylvania Convention Center, Nov. 17, 2020, in Philadelphia.

Michigan and Pennsylvania’s certification of their results this week dealt a serious blow to President Donald Trump’s efforts to overturn the election, and the president announced on Twitter Monday night that his administration will begin a formal transition process with President-elect Joe Biden’s team. Still, Mr. Trump has not formally conceded – and later tweeted that he is “moving full speed ahead” with legal cases against “the most corrupt election in American political history.”

The president has not produced any concrete evidence of widespread voter fraud. A letter penned by 59 of the country’s top election security experts stated there is “no credible evidence” that the results in any state were compromised.

But Mr. Trump’s unsubstantiated allegations have impacted local officials in every battleground state. After the Trump campaign filed for a partial recount in Wisconsin, reports from a Milwaukee conference hall depicted a chaotic scene, with pro-Trump observers and tabulators clashing in heated disputes. In Michigan’s Wayne County, hundreds of voters participated in a virtual public comment session, condemning the County Board of Canvassers after its two Republican members initially declined to certify the results. Arizona Secretary of State Katie Hobbs has received threats of violence, as has Georgia’s Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger, a self-described conservative Republican.

“I’d like to remind voters that the people who administer elections – from the poll workers at the precinct, to the county and state-level officials – they are people,” says Forrest Lehman, director of elections in Lycoming County, Pennsylvania. “They are not taking sides. They are trying to run a free and fair election, and follow the laws. People should not be so quick to engage in a level of distrust and disrespect that seems to be so prevalent right now.” 

Robin Buckson/Detroit News/AP

Wayne County Board of Canvassers, from left, Republican member William Hartmann, Republican chairperson Monica Palmer, Democratic vice chair Jonathan Kinloch, and Democratic member Allen Wilson discuss a motion to certify election results during a board meeting in Detroit on Nov. 17, 2020. The two Republicans initially declined to certify the results, then voted in favor, but later said they wanted to rescind their votes.

"Everything is a plot"

Many election officials note that claims of fraud impugn not just them, but the entire network of employees and volunteers who make elections happen.

In Delaware County, outside Philadelphia, five community members in each of the county’s 428 precincts monitor the election, and they all take an oath before doing so.

“So what you are saying is that those 2,000 people don’t have good character and did not act with integrity,” says Mr. Lawrence, the county board member. “All the people who work so hard to make sure that democracy happens.” 

In a meeting last week, Pennsylvania’s Bucks County Commissioner Robert Harvie recalled an exchange he had with an employee early in the morning the day after the election. She had been working for almost 24 hours straight.

“She said, ‘You know, every American should have to come and take part in this process at one point, just to see everything that goes on to make an election happen,’” says Commissioner Harvie. “And I think she’s right.”

Local officials interviewed by the Monitor say they’ve been especially dismayed by how many voters seem to automatically assume malfeasance when something goes wrong. 

“We have people reporting every single minor [problem] they may have encountered at the polls,” says Mr. Lehman in Lycoming County. “And there are no reasonable explanations for those circumstances anymore – everything is a plot.”

Clerical errors are seen as a sign of something “nefarious.” Voters have called asking him to make sure their votes were counted, which Mr. Lehman explains is impossible, given that the votes themselves are anonymous. Some of these calls have verged on the violent, with the callers making threats.

“A number of people out there are armed with partial information and looking for things that they perceive to be strange or abnormal that really aren’t,” says J. Manly Parks, the Bureau of Elections solicitor for Delaware County.

During Delaware County’s certification meeting, Mr. Lawrence and his fellow commissioners listened to several public complaints about alleged fraud involving Dominion Voting Systems, a voting technology company that the president and his allies have claimed switched votes from Mr. Trump to Mr. Biden, in what experts describe as an unfounded conspiracy theory. 

But Delaware County doesn’t use Dominion technology, says Mr. Lawrence. It never has. 

Benefits to a decentralized system

The U.S. election system is so decentralized that it can be confusing – election laws differ from state to state, and operations can vary between counties and even towns. But that diffuse, sometimes messy nature of the system can paradoxically help ensure security. 

“The decentralized election system has pluses and minuses, and [security] is one of the pluses,” says Adav Noti, senior director for litigation at the Campaign Legal Center, and former associate general counsel for the Federal Election Commission. 

“In 2016, when the Russians were trying to mess with the election, it would have been really difficult for them to do it on the election administration side because there are more than 10,000 election agencies in the country,” says Mr. Noti. “And it makes it hard for any one administration or officeholder to influence the election as well.”

In 1887, following the disputed election between Samuel Tilden and Rutherford Hayes, Congress passed the Electoral Count Act – a federal law establishing how and when electoral votes would be counted by Congress. To ensure that states have time to resolve any disputes and certify their results, the act established a “Safe Harbor” deadline of six days before the Electoral College delegations meet to cast their votes. If states certify their results before the Safe Harbor deadline, Congress, essentially, can’t touch them.

In 2020, states’ electors will cast their ballots (virtually) on December 14, which makes the Safe Harbor deadline December 8. Most states, however, have set certification deadlines ahead of this date.

In the days and weeks leading up to certification, election officials typically receive and count overseas military ballots, which many states allow to arrive after Election Day, as well as provisional ballots, which need to be verified for one reason or another. 

“People just assume that we have the election and that’s that,” says Kevin Barnhardt, a member of the Board of Commissioners in Berks County, Pennsylvania, northwest of Philadelphia. “Unless you are an election nerd, you didn’t know that we had all of these processes and rules after the election. It was all just magnified this year.”

In fact, it’s a sign of local officials’ competence, say experts, that much of America likely didn’t know about Safe Harbor deadlines or certification laws before this year. 

“These deadlines take place every time. And the fact that we’ve never talked about them before just shows how smoothly it’s gone in years past,” says Casey Burgat, legislative affairs program director at George Washington University. “It’s like referees in a sports game. If you don’t think about them, that means they are doing a good job.” 

A uniquely challenging year

Even before Election Day, 2020 presented a slate of enormous challenges for those tasked with running elections. 

Due to precautions surrounding COVID-19, more than a dozen states expanded absentee or mail-in voting eligibility, and at least another five states plus the District of Columbia decided to send absentee ballot applications to all voters. This year, 43 states plus the district permitted early in-person voting, with almost half of them providing weekend voting. 

Turnout wound up hitting a 50-year high, with the early vote alone representing almost three-quarters of 2016’s total vote.

Long before COVID-19 hit, adequately staffing elections was difficult. Many of the people manning the U.S. electoral system are volunteers or short-term employees who are paid a daily stipend. A congressional report from 2018 found that more than 630,000 poll workers were needed to help voters across 200,000 polling places, with almost two-thirds of jurisdictions reporting that it was difficult to recruit enough workers.

Concerns about staffing grew exponentially in 2020, since at least 58% of 2018’s poll workers were over the age of 60 – the population recommended by health experts to take COVID-19 precautions most seriously.

Some officials now fear that the aggressive criticism leveled at election employees may dissuade people from coming forward to staff future elections.

“For these people who are upset now because they think democracy is being stolen, where is that going to leave democracy when the county election operations are hollowed out because we all leave?” says Mr. Lehman, in Lycoming County. “What will happen to elections after that?”

Yet others see reason to be hopeful, noting that contested elections in the past have sometimes brought more Americans into the political process. Berks County typically has a turnover of 100 to 200 poll workers between elections, but Mr. Barnhardt says they’ve already had more than 500 people inquire about working the polls in future elections. 

“All of this spurred a new interest in the political process like never before,” he says. “And that’s a good thing.” 

Ethiopia has long prided itself on its independence – as the one African nation to repel Western colonizers and foreign interference as others became battlegrounds for competing powers.

But as Ethiopia prepares to lay siege to its restive Tigray region, what was once billed as a policing operation by a newly assertive central government is threatening to become a regional affair whose outcome will be felt across the Horn of Africa and beyond.

And, with a new refugee crisis already brewing, the pressure is on reformist Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed to swiftly wrap up the fighting to prevent already-mobilizing regional and international actors from using the conflict to further their own agendas.

Ethiopia’s ascendance as a regional power and the very peace accord that won Mr. Abiy international acclaim are suddenly at stake. The war is already affecting Ethiopia’s role as a linchpin for security and stability across the Horn as it pulls reinforcements from peacekeeping duties in Somalia.

“The duration of this conflict will have profound implications for Ethiopia and the entire region,” says a veteran Ethiopian analyst monitoring the conflict.

“If the conflict is decisively won in a week and the Tigrayan leadership surrenders, Mr. Abiy is strengthened at home and on the regional stage. But if this war drags on into an insurgency, it will be very difficult for Abiy Ahmed to contain the spill-over, or who may intervene.”

Martin Plaut, Horn of Africa expert at the London-based Institute of Commonwealth Studies, concurs. “Already the situation was delicate in the Horn: There are plenty of actors willing to get involved,” he says.

“If the government does not secure a swift victory,” that would open the door to more outside involvement, and “Ethiopian nationalism will flare up and send the whole region into unknown territory.”

“People are already bewildered at the pace of events,” he says.

Wednesday evening, after a 72-hour grace period for surrender expired, Ethiopian federal troops prepared to launch what they called a “no mercy” siege of Mekele, capital of the northern region of Tigray, where the ruling Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) has defied the central government’s authority.

Regional involvement

Across the Horn of Africa, the balance of power has shifted in recent years due to revolutions and outside competition for its resources and strategic waterways.

Three weeks into the conflict in Tigray, and regional states are threatening to pierce Ethiopia’s once-impenetrable status.

Tiksa Negeri/Reuters

People participate in a two minute ceremony to honor the members of Ethiopian National Defense Forces fighting against the Tigray Special Forces, in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, Nov. 17, 2020.

Neighboring Eritrea has already provided Ethiopia with logistics and, allegedly, air power, establishing a northern flank as Ethiopian federal troops sweep from the south.

The Tigrayan leadership alleges direct involvement by the Eritrean air force and troops – claims that are difficult to substantiate amid a communications and internet blackout in the region.

As retribution, the TPLF launched missiles into the Eritrean capital Asmara last week.

Although officially denied by both sides, the closely coordinated operation highlights the growing alliance between Mr. Abiy and Eritrean President Isaias Afwerki, who signed a finalized peace deal in 2018 ending two decades of cold war. Mr. Abiy was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize as a result.

Yet observers say there are deeper motivations for Eritrea’s support.

Eritrea has a long-standing feud with the TPLF, a onetime ally with whom it later fought the bitter and devastating border wars of 1998-2000.

The TPLF frustrated Mr. Isaias’s regional ambitions to become kingmaker for the Horn of Africa when the Tigrayan group led Ethiopia’s government from 1993 to 2018.

Since the border wars, Mr. Isaias has slowly rebuilt his influence and networks in Djibouti, Somalia, and further afield.

By settling an old score with the TPLF and making the Ethiopian government reliant on Eritrea’s service, Mr. Isaias sees an opportunity to claim what he sees as his rightful mantle as regional leader.

“They always saw Ethiopia as an obstacle to their role as head of the Horn of Africa,” says a second Ethiopian analyst. “Removing the TPLF is removing an obstacle to realizing that ambition.”

Sudan and Somalia

Fighting has set off alarms in neighboring Sudan to the northwest, itself in the midst of a fragile and contentious post-revolution political transition.

Fighting has driven more than 40,000 Ethiopian refugees into Sudan, far more than the United Nations’ initial estimates, with an expected 200,000 to be driven into Sudanese territory within months, the largest refugee wave to hit the country in decades.

Due to intense fighting in the border regions, the U.N. said Tuesday it is transporting refugees some 45 miles deeper into Sudanese territory.

Sudan remains concerned Tigrayan fighters may retreat to its porous border region to regroup, resupply, and stage an insurgency campaign against the Ethiopian government.

Such a development could lead to a flow of illicit arms and militant activity into Sudan at a time its own security establishment is under strain and distrust is rife among Sudan’s military and civilian factions.

Due to a need for increased manpower, Ethiopia last week withdrew 3,000 troops from its 10,000-strong peacekeeping force in Somalia.

The Ethiopian contingent is the largest in the troubled state and has been critical in supporting the Somali government and bolstering the campaign against the Islamist militant group Al-Shabab.

Mohamed Nureldin Abdallah/Reuters

A Sudanese military officer keeps guard as Ethiopians who fled war in the Tigray region receive supplies from the World Food Programme at the Fashaga camp on the Sudan-Ethiopia border, in Al-Qadarif state, Sudan on Nov. 20, 2020.

With the African Union coalition already fragile, and partners unwilling to carry the brunt of the burdens carried by Addis Ababa, there are concerns the African peacekeeping initiative could collapse should further Ethiopian troops be withdrawn.

“The immediate regional effect of Ethiopia withdrawing troops out of Somalia is it puts the campaign against al-Shabab at risk,” Mr. Plaut warns.

Egypt

Closely taking stock is Egypt, which has been blindsided by Ethiopia’s meteoric reemergence as a regional power and direct rival to Cairo’s hegemony.

Egypt is primarily concerned with Ethiopia’s Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam, a project to dam the Blue Nile River to generate electricity to fuel Ethiopia’s rapid modernization.

Egypt is concerned that the dam will affect its water supplies and agricultural lands in the Nile Valley downstream, but has until recently found itself in a weak bargaining position as talks over the dam with Ethiopia and Sudan have stalled.

With the Ethiopian conflict, Cairo has become emboldened – some insiders say “euphoric” – and is looking to seize the opportunity to bolster its position.

The Egyptian and Eritrean foreign ministers met in Cairo last week to discuss “the current situation in the Horn of Africa,” and this week Egypt and Sudan held joint maneuvers on Sudanese soil, the first such military cooperation in decades.

UAE

Hovering above the fray with a watchful eye is the United Arab Emirates, which has extensive economic and military interests across the Horn.

In recent years the wealthy Gulf Arab state has invested political capital and billions of dollars to establish bases, ports, and patrons along the Red Sea coast in Eritrea, Djibouti, and Sudan, and does not wish to see its interests and control of shipping lanes jeopardized. 

Prior to the conflict, Abu Dhabi was eager to bring Ethiopia into its sphere of influence and cement its hold on East Africa, a push fueled by the recent expansion of its rivals Turkey and Qatar into Sudan and Somalia.

Also alarming is the war’s proximity to Eritrea, a close ally and where the UAE has a military base in Assab, from which the Emiratis have projected their military power into Yemen and North Africa, particularly Libya.

Yet after weeks signaling it was supportive of Mr. Abiy’s offensive, this week the UAE called for a cessation of hostilities and a return to dialogue, offering to mediate between the TPLF and Addis Ababa.

The UAE also became the first nation to provide aid to refugees fleeing the conflict, donating $4.5 million for U.N. food relief for Ethiopians on the Sudanese border.

“The Emiratis want to play it both ways,” says an Ethiopian analyst knowledgeable of UAE involvement in the country. “On the one hand there are reports of the use of drones from their base, but they also want to emerge as mediators. Whether the conflict ends decisively in Mekele or stretches on, this will enhance their role in the Horn of Africa.”

Mr. Abiy has thus far rebuffed attempts of mediation by the UAE, Sudan, South Africa, and the African Union, expressing confidence that the siege of Mekele will be swift, the TPLF leadership will capitulate, and order will be restored.

Amid reports that TPLF forces are retreating to mountainous hinterlands, regional actors are preparing in case he is wrong.

Heads down, earphones in, and buttoned up against the wind that comes flying off the nearby Charles River, pedestrians on busy Massachusetts Avenue tend to hurry by the imposing neoclassical pillars of MIT’s Building 7. The pale stone steps offer little of interest most days – except when a young man, who might otherwise blend in with the crowd of students and professionals below, perches there and holds up a large handmade poster offering “FREE LISTENING.”

“I would always notice that he was there,” says Shraddha Rana, a graduate student at Massachusetts Institute of Technology who often passed by Building 7. But she didn’t stop to investigate – at least, until a friend told her that she had taken the man up on his offer, and enjoyed the experience. Intrigued by the positive review, Ms. Rana decided to give it a shot.

“It was just very good to talk to him,” she says. “It was so easy to have a conversation, and we talked about a lot of things – for more than half an hour. And that made me want to stop by even more.” 

Now she counts the listener – Kip Clark, a digital research analyst and podcast producer – as a friend.

Mr. Clark settled on the MIT steps with his sign about a year and a half ago. (He’s quick to clarify that he’s unaffiliated with the school.) He speaks clearly and deliberately, adjusting his manner as needed – first energetic and expressive for a student who stops to talk, then calm and reflective for this interview. Over his mask, his gaze drifts to the middle distance, but then regularly returns to his conversational partner – the anchor of his attention. He explains that he’s been offering “free listening” to the general public in various forms since 2018.

“I believe that listening is at the root of anything good that exists between people,” he says. “It can have a powerful impact when done with sincerity and presence, and also with the time that some people might need.”

To that end, he devotes a fair amount of his time to sitting at MIT – usually several days a week, and two or three hours per session, as long as the weather is good. Mr. Clark credits the idea for the sign to friends and event organizers who work to foster conversations between strangers through local meet-and-greet events in Boston, such as “Skip the Small Talk.” But he put his own spin on things by choosing a fixed public spot at which to repeatedly invite interaction. 

“I think people are often subject to a lot of stressors and a lot of human disconnection as a result of the era we live in,” he says. “To me, listening is resonant because I don’t know that everyone feels they have that.” 

His own life is evidence of that. “I was inspired by people in my own life that I love and trust and have always listened to me,” he says. “[But] in childhood, I didn’t always feel like I was surrounded by great listeners. So both negatively and positively, I’ve been shown the value of it.”

Anything from quiche to emotions 

For Mr. Clark, listening can mean many different things. When someone takes him up on his offer, he tries to let them set the bounds of the conversation. “Someone [could say], ‘Hey, I just wanted to chat – I made a really nice quiche last night,’” he explains. “And I’d say, ‘Oh, that’s awesome. I’m glad to hear that. I think cooking’s great.’ We could have a chat that’s maybe not profound, but is an option for them to talk to a stranger and then walk away having had a positive interaction and a chance to express themselves.” 

“And then the other part of listening – that I think a lot of people associate with my sign – is that someone might be in a state of emotional distress or confusion and want [another person] to bounce ideas off of,” he adds. He prefers to keep the details of more serious conversations private.

“Any effort that people give to centering listening is to be applauded and reinforced,” Andrew Wolvin, a professor of communication at the University of Maryland, says when told of Mr. Clark’s sign. “Some people don’t really have a listener. And if they did, [their lives] probably would be enriched, and perhaps be helped [with] some of the issues that they’re dealing with.”

There seems to be a quiet trend of recognition of what an open, nonjudgmental ear can do for the world. StoryCorps, the nonprofit oral history organization, launched an unofficial National Day of Listening in 2008; it happens annually the day after Thanksgiving. The International Listening Association also hosts a day devoted to listening; this year the theme was empathy. And in Los Angeles, Urban Confessional – a community of actors – began standing on street corners with signs offering free listening in 2012 to, as their website explains, open “their hearts to anyone who needed to laugh, cry, scream, or chat.”

Though Mr. Clark – who operates independently from any of those groups – wryly notes that the sign can inspire confusion and even derision from passersby, he usually pulls a steady stream of serious takers. Anywhere from one to half a dozen people will stop to talk during a given day, he reports. During the pandemic, that number has increased steadily since lockdowns began.

“I think a lot of us are feeling really socially exhausted and disconnected. The pandemic, I think, has had a toll on many,” he says. “I’ve enjoyed, during COVID, that [wearing] a mask does further anonymize me. ... I really think great listening is less about who I am and more about who the [other] person is.”

Sitting out with the sign and inviting conversation “is something that’s so obvious to do – and yet so few of us have the confidence, or maybe just the level of interest, to actually do it,” says Matthias Webster, a former emergency dispatcher who regularly visited Mr. Clark before he moved across the country. “He just attracted a lot of interesting people. It’s amazing how quickly [they] tended to open up.”

“I guess I was curious what that angle was, so to speak,” he adds. “And I think the most interesting thing about him, to my mind, was that he didn’t really have one. ... I always found him to be a pretty neutral, altruistic actor.”

Listening’s link to peace

But listening goes beyond social interaction. According to Dr. Wolvin, many political and cultural crises can be attributed to a fundamental lack of listening in modern culture.

“We all need to come together and listen to each other in seeking a more strategic effort toward a pathway toward peace in the world,” he says. “Listening should be central to the communication process. It’s one of the most complex of all human behaviors.” 

For example, he says, many people don’t realize that visual and nonverbal cues from listeners can make or break a conversation. And empathetic listening, in which the speaker is allowed to talk all the way through a problem, can lead to self-reflection, healing, and problem-solving – and not just for the person being heard.

Mr. Clark, who listens to so many, is still excited to hear more: “As a straight white guy ... mine is a demographic that is so over-discussed. I think anyone who really wanted to learn would be intellectually dishonest if they didn’t admit that you have to listen in order to learn what exists beyond yourself – with the reminder that you may not ever fully understand.”

That’s why he’s gratified by the wide range of ethnicities, ages, and national origins represented by those who have stopped to talk. 

“To me, it does seem to indicate that ... people in all different kinds of groups, cultures, and backgrounds could benefit from a listener,” he says. “And it doesn’t have to be me. But I enjoy talking to them because it’s human interaction. And I hope that continues for as long as I sit there.”

Andreas Teich/Newscom

Stonework in the Weissensee Jewish Cemetery in Berlin depicts the hand position of a Jewish priest giving a traditional blessing.

Our rabbi asks us about our homework assignment. “When was the last time you blessed someone?”

No one in the congregation raises a hand. 

“Let’s practice,” he says. “Turn to the person next to you. Look into their eyes, and open yourself to being a messenger for the blessing that person needs. Begin by saying, ‘I want to bless you.’” The exercise makes us squirm. Aren’t blessings what we ask of God? 

My good friend pivots to face me. I am already deliberating about a blessing for her. She’s worried about her son, a college student far away. It occurs to me that I might be describing the very blessing that I most need.

Our blessings are stiff and rehearsed. “Keep practicing,” our rabbi says. “You don’t get good overnight.”

Then we sing of the angels who trail us home on the Jewish Sabbath. As I head out into the cold night, I imagine I hear the whisper of angels’ wings. I picture angels pinching my coattails, sweeping with a gust into my home. I wonder how I might keep them here, a presence I might always feel.

The next week, my daughter and I get into a conversation with an Uber driver about his work in his church. He asks about my job and my daughter’s advanced studies. Then, to our surprise, he asks permission to pray for us. 

“Now,” I tell him. “I’d like to pray for you.” I begin in the traditional Jewish way, acknowledging God and the blessings in my life before I offer a prayer on the driver’s behalf. I pray that this man will continue to serve families who need his help. I pray that his own family will be healthy, their lives full of joy.

“Amen!” he calls out.

That was a year ago. I wonder if he is still employed, if his family is healthy. How could I have possibly known what he needed? We were strangers.

Here’s what I am learning about blessing: You have to somehow gauge whether a person will be OK with the intimate moment they haven’t exactly asked for. I have walked away from more than a few people feeling the blessing didn’t go so hot. It’s definitely easier to bless someone whose injury is obvious, a cast or crutches: “I want to bless you with a swift and complete recovery.” This is generally well received. And it sounds more sincere than “Get better soon.” I feel that a blessing should overwhelm me, like those rare moments when, caught up in inspiration, I furiously scribble the words that come to me as though I’m taking dictation. 

Today, I’m in the grocery store. My husband is recovering from surgery. A child is still anguished. I choose flowers for myself: pink roses, the petals edged in green, like a prematurely picked fruit.

I hurry through the checkout line and head to the cafe counter. A man with a long ponytail takes a big step back when I zoom up with my packed cart.

He waves me ahead. “You go first. I have all the time in the world.”

Before ordering I ask him what he’s having, and I pay for his drink. I thank him for his kindness.

He shrugs. “Just basic courtesy. Easy stuff.” There is something of the free spirit in his mellow demeanor, his groovy ponytail. “What’s your name?” he asks.

“Claudia.”

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Angel.”

“Angel? That’s a beautiful name.”

“As is Claudia.”

Then, without thinking, I say, “May you be an angel to everyone around you.” He closes his eyes and nods slowly. Did I just make him sad?  

“I try,” he says. “I try.”

“And …” I hear my voice crack. “May you find yourself surrounded by angels.” 

An ache rises from my chest to my throat. Do I tell him I have been waiting for an angel? That some of my people are hurting, and I can’t take their pain away?

“Thank you,” he says, accepting the mocha from the barista. Angel turns back to me. “You have a grateful day now.” And he walks away.

A grateful day. 

Maybe it wasn’t a blessing in return. Just a goodbye. He is still sauntering away. He did say he had all the time in the world. His pant leg drags on the ground, trampled by his heel and crusted with snow. 

Grateful. My husband is safely out of surgery. But a child is in pain. My love does not feel like anything close to enough. But my child is loved, and I am loved. Wildly, wildly loved.

A petal slips free in my hand, the pink sunrise of the rose splattered by the foam of my latte. The petal is drenched, but silky and too lovely to dump in the garbage. I cup the petal in my hand, hold it high above the slosh of melted snow as I bump my shopping cart through the parking lot. In my hands, the sun rises on a new day.

AP

Staff at Phoenix College and volunteers pack up donated Thanksgiving meal bags for needy students at the campus in Arizona.

Too many Americans – 27% – are experiencing a lot of sadness, according to the latest Gallup Poll. That’s up from 18% two years ago. National events, from a pandemic to racial injustice to a recession, have pushed many into desolation at a time of holiday celebration. A few notable families – such as those of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery – will be in mourning. In the homes of 260,000 people, there will be a chair made empty by COVID-19. For tens of thousands, a Thanksgiving meal was available only from a drive-thru charity distribution.

For most Americans, Thanksgiving Day – a holiday that invites people to count their blessings – has been reduced to a family-only, small-turkey, Zoom-waving affair, perhaps one without civic strife over presidential politics. At least 61% of people have had to change or cancel their holiday plans, according to a survey by The Vacationer.

All the more reason why this special occasion for gratitude should be – and is – one of generosity.

During the first half of the year, charitable giving rose 7.5% compared with the first half of 2019, according to the Fundraising Effectiveness Project. That’s a hardy response during multiple crises. In addition, giving toward the prevention of anti-Black racism has climbed to more than $10 billion so far this year, or three times the total spent in the previous eight years.

Worldwide, philanthropy aimed at stopping the pandemic has reached $16.5 billion, according to the charity watchdog Candid. The funding is larger than for any other disaster or humanitarian crisis, the group says.

These figures hint at a deep stirring in the hearts of many. “People are looking to generosity as the antidote to their fear and their isolation and injustice and division,” Woodrow Rosenbaum, chief data officer at #GivingTuesday, told The Chronicle of Philanthropy.

Gratitude is more than a looking back or a recognition of the present good in one’s experience. The apostle Paul writes of being thankful “in” everything rather than “for” something. That requires engagement with others along with an understanding of the spiritual reasons for gratitude.

In his last Thanksgiving address as president, John F. Kennedy wrote, “As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.” In their first post-harvest celebration in 1621, the Pilgrims gathered to “rejoice together,” that is, to evoke joy in others. Their gathering was made possible by a compact, signed aboard the Mayflower, that called for the “body politic” to enact “just and equal laws.” They understood that a pursuit of equality – a goal not yet achieved in the American experiment – was driven “for the glory of God,” which includes a responsibility for the well-being of others.

This year’s wave of giving is driven mainly by the near-universal experience of the pandemic. “COVID-19 has inspired a groundswell of response to human need,” writes the faculty of the Lilly Family School of Philanthropy in the Stanford Social Innovation Review. They also see more “dynamic generosity,” or innovations in giving that are more inclusive. “Everyone has the capacity to contribute in ways that are not prescribed,” they write.

Nearly 40% of Americans tell the online gift processor Classy that they are likely or certain to contribute more to charity this year than last year. As Cicero said, “Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all the others.” Among those virtues is generosity.

This year, gratitude is wonderfully high for health care practitioners, for volunteers and local officials who worked tirelessly to ensure the legitimacy of the election, and for all those helping to restitch the fabric of a people straining for wider compassion and equal justice. America as an experiment is genuinely important to the world, said former President Barack Obama in a recent interview with The Atlantic, because it “is the first real experiment in building a large, multiethnic, multicultural democracy.”

The founder of this newspaper, Mary Baker Eddy, wrote that Thanksgiving signifies “that love, unselfed, knocks more loudly than ever before at the heart of humanity and that it finds admittance.” As a troubled nation pauses in reflection, all can share its blessings, casting them through the prism of gratitude.