One Backstory

Once upon a time, when people asked me where I was from, I’d duck the question because my hometown felt like a place I was trying to escape. Now, I realize how profoundly it influenced my life’s direction and prepared me for the work I do today.

I was born in Levittown, New York, the first mass-produced suburb in the world. Our homes looked like Monopoly houses—largely identical and built in 27 steps. It was the brainchild of William J. Levitt, who applied construction skills he learned in the military to building affordable housing for a growing middle class.

Levittown was never my happy place. It wasn’t just the sameness of the houses that bothered me. It was what felt like a smallness and sameness of perspective it engendered.

As far as I could tell, many people seemed to care only about what happened on their one-eighth acre of land. I witnessed little curiosity or caring about the big glorious world beyond.

Of course, a teenager’s vantage point isn’t the most reliable. So, looking back now, I know there are many possible reasons that people seemed to keep their focus on their own lives; and I’m sure plenty of them did care about the larger world. But my formative impression was that most people didn’t. And I couldn’t for the life of me understand that.

I was immensely curious—and I cared deeply.

My Burning Question

I began to discover the world when I enrolled at Columbia University with a dream of becoming a foreign correspondent and seeing as much of the world as I could.

But along the way, I found myself caring about what was happening—what seemed both unjust and unwise—here in our own country: the racism, the homophobia, the gender inequality, the growing economic chasms, and, above all, the disregard for our natural environment.

The disregard for nature baffled me the most, given not only its beauty but also the countless ways in which our health and well-being—indeed, our survival and the survival of our children and grandchildren—depend upon it.

And so began a lifelong journey of questing after an answer to the big question: Why do some people work to solve problems while others stay on the sidelines?

What I Learned About Why Some People Step Up

As an author, award-winning journalist, speaker, and strategist, I’ve spoken with hundreds of people about this—everyday changemakers, experts in psychology and neuroscience, Buddhist teachers, parents, even extreme athletes.

I’ve also done some deep diving into my own heart and soul, often finding more similarities with those I struggled to understand than I would have imagined.

What I discovered was breathtakingly simple: Capacity makes the difference.

More specifically, our belief about our capacity to meet challenges determines whether we act or remain bystanders.

When we don’t believe we can make a difference, we tend not to try. When we do, we often step up—and, as research affirms, are rewarded with greater fulfillment and well-being than if we had stayed on the sidelines.

In these times—when the challenges we face as individuals, families, organizations, and communities are more consequential and complex than ever—I believe that cultivating our capacity to rise to challenges is one of the most important things we can do together.

This involves focusing on the skills that help us navigate outsized challenges—and sometimes elicits the happy recognition that our past has made us more ready to deal with present challenges than we may have thought.