On July 4, Americans gathered in city parks, libraries, museums, historic sites, schools, houses of worship, and around kitchen tables to celebrate the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence.

They came together for concerts and parades. They attended naturalization ceremonies. They visited historic places, planted liberty trees, volunteered in their communities, read the Declaration aloud with their families, and reflected on the ideals that have shaped our nation for two and a half centuries.

In the months leading up to the anniversary, many wondered whether America could still find ways to celebrate together. Some worried that the nation had become too divided, too fragmented, or too distracted to mark such a significant milestone in a meaningful way.

What we witnessed instead was something both quieter and more encouraging.

America celebrated. Not through a single defining national moment, but through thousands of local acts of participation, reflection, learning, service, and civic connection.

And that is exactly why America’s 250th matters.

The anniversary was never meant to be an endpoint. It was an invitation.

The Declaration of Independence marked the beginning of the American experiment, not its completion. The work of turning revolutionary ideals into durable institutions would take decades. The generation that declared independence in 1776 still had to win a war, build a nation, establish a system of self-government, and confront profound disagreements about what the future should look like.

Things did not always go according to plan.

The Articles of Confederation proved insufficient to meet many of the challenges facing the young nation. Economic instability, political divisions, and questions about national authority threatened the durability of the republic. Americans disagreed fiercely about the path forward. Many wondered whether the experiment would survive.

And yet they persevered.

Through debate, compromise, civic participation, and constitutional imagination, Americans built something extraordinary: the United States Constitution, the oldest continuously operating written national constitution in the world.

That achievement should remind us of something important today.

The generation of 1776 did not inherit a finished democracy. They built one. So must we.

That is why we believe the most important work of the semiquincentennial begins now. Over the next decade, as the nation moves toward the Constitution’s 250th anniversary in 2037 and the Bill of Rights’ 250th anniversary in 2041, America has an opportunity to undertake a new era of civic renewal.

Not because our challenges are identical to those of the founding generation, but because self-government always requires renewal. Democracy has never been self-executing. Every generation must learn it, practice it, strengthen it, and pass it on.

The civic decade ahead should be marked by new investments in civic education, both inside and outside the classroom. It should be marked by renewed support for civic institutions like museums, libraries, historic sites, parks, archives, schools, and community organizations that help Americans encounter one another and engage with our shared constitutional inheritance. It should be marked by efforts to rebuild social trust and strengthen the relationships that sustain healthy communities.

At a time when loneliness and social isolation have become defining challenges of modern life, civic institutions have a particularly important role to play. They create opportunities for people of different backgrounds and perspectives to gather around shared questions, shared experiences, and shared responsibilities. They help transform strangers into neighbors and communities into places of belonging.

The work ahead will not be easy. Building civic knowledge, strengthening civic habits, restoring trust, and creating opportunities for meaningful participation will require sustained effort. It will require leaders, educators, parents, students, philanthropists, policymakers, community organizations, and citizens working together over many years.

But great civic achievements have never been easy. The generation that followed 1776 faced uncertainty, disagreement, and fragility. They understood that the future of self-government depended not simply on lofty ideals, but on the hard work of building institutions capable of sustaining those ideals. Their work became our inheritance. Our work will become the inheritance of future generations.

So if America’s 250th did not inspire you to stay engaged, consider joining us for the civic decade ahead.

The fireworks have ended. The celebrations have concluded. But the most important work is just beginning.

The story of America has never been defined solely by what happened in 1776.

It has always been defined by what each generation chooses to do next.

This article was co-authored by Vince Stango, interim President and CEO of the National Constitution Center.

This article originally appeared in The Fulcrum on July 13, 2026.

From the founding, Americans understood that a republic depends on the character and judgment of its citizens. In the years after the Revolution, that insight took shape in what later came to be called “republican motherhood,” the belief that the success of the new nation required raising children with the virtue, knowledge, and discipline necessary for citizenship. The concept reflected the limits of its time, assigning that responsibility narrowly to mothers. But it also captured a deeper truth. Constitutions do not sustain themselves. Self-government endures only when each generation is prepared to understand, value, and uphold its principles.

For much of our history, preparing young people for citizenship was a shared responsibility. Families, schools, and civic institutions reinforced one another, creating a culture where civic learning was woven into daily life.

Today, that balance has broken down.

We have steadily placed more responsibility on schools to prepare young people for citizenship, even as we have reduced the space devoted to civic learning within them. At the same time, the broader ecosystem that once supported this work has weakened. In some communities, these institutions have disappeared altogether, creating what researchers describe as “civic deserts.” In others, they still exist but are no longer central to daily life. Participation in community organizations, religious institutions, and even cultural spaces like museums and historical sites has declined, leaving fewer shared spaces where people regularly encounter one another, engage across differences, and connect to our civic story.

Research from the Brookings Institution estimates that 60 percent of rural youth and 30 percent of urban and suburban young people now live in areas lacking these traditional civic institutions. Civic learning has steadily diminished in schools, even as expectations for what schools should deliver in preparing citizens have grown. Fewer than one-quarter of eighth graders perform at or above proficiency in civics, and many adults cannot name all three branches of government.

We are asking schools to do more, with less, while the institutions that once reinforced that learning have grown weaker or more distant from everyday life. It is an imbalance we can no longer ignore.

The responsibility once described as republican motherhood now belongs to all of us. Parents, caregivers, and families of every kind share in preparing the next generation for life in a constitutional democracy. This is the work of civic parenting.

Civic parenting is not a formal program. It lives in the ordinary rhythms of daily life. It is the intentional practice of welcoming children into the American story and helping them develop the habits that self-government requires.

When a parent reads a book about the American Revolution with a child, that is civic formation. When a family visits a museum or attends a historical program together, that is civic formation. When a parent asks a child to take responsibility at home, that is civic formation. When a parent encourages a child to explain their thinking or works through disagreement with patience rather than dismissal, that too is civic formation.

These moments may seem small, but they are where the habits of citizenship begin. Listening. Reasoning. Exercising restraint. Engaging across difference. These are not learned in a single civics class. They are developed over time, in families, schools, and communities.

If we want a citizenry capable of self-government, we must rebalance the system.

That means continuing to support teachers and schools, while also recognizing that they cannot carry this responsibility alone. It means rebuilding the connections between classrooms, homes, and communities. It means creating accessible entry points that spark curiosity and invite participation. And it means meeting families where they are, with tools and experiences that make civic learning part of everyday life.

Institutions have a role to play here, not as replacements for families, but as partners. At the National Constitution Center, we are working to support this effort by creating pathways that begin with moments of curiosity and lead to deeper constitutional learning, whether in classrooms, online, or around kitchen tables.

The nation’s 250th anniversary this year is not simply a moment to look back. It is an invitation to decide what we will carry forward. It marks the beginning of a civic decade leading to the Constitution’s 250th anniversary in 2037, a period that calls for reflection, renewal, and recommitment.

It should be the decade we correct this imbalance. A decade that makes civic parenting a cultural expectation, not an afterthought. A decade that restores a founding understanding that families, schools, and civic institutions must work together to prepare each new generation for self-government.

This work is not beyond reach. It requires intention. And it can be meaningful and even joyful. When families are supported in it, the impact is profound. It strengthens the nation by preparing citizens capable of self-government. It helps young people develop judgment, curiosity, and civic confidence. And it deepens connections within families themselves.

The Constitution promises the blessings of liberty to “ourselves and our posterity.” That promise depends on what we choose to pass on.

The civic decade calls us to meet that responsibility together and to make civic parenting not the exception, but the expectation.

This article originally appeared in The Fulcrum on May 5, 2026.

As we commemorate the Declaration of Independence’s 250th anniversary, Americans are asking familiar questions. Who were the founders? What did they believe? How did this nation begin?

But there is another question that deserves just as much attention: Where do I fit into this story? For many people, the answer begins with family history.

Genealogy is often thought of as a personal hobby or a search for long-lost relatives. But it can also be a powerful way of understanding American history itself. Every family story is woven into larger stories of migration, community, work, faith, conflict, aspiration, and civic life. Exploring where we come from can help us better understand not only our own identities but also the nation we have inherited together.

Recent historical research suggests that genealogy played a much more significant role in the founding era than is commonly recognized. Many founders, including George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, and John Adams, carefully documented and studied their own family histories, viewing genealogy as a way to better understand their inheritance and their place in a changing world. Family relationships influenced inheritance, citizenship, political power, religious life, and legal standing. Rather than being a side concern, genealogy helped shape the very structure of the society the founders were building.

Across early America, people of diverse backgrounds preserved their histories in countless ways: through family Bibles, letters, oral traditions, quilts, gravestones, church records, court documents, and stories passed from one generation to the next. Enslaved families fought to preserve family connections despite systems designed to erase them. Indigenous communities maintained rich traditions of kinship and ancestry. Immigrant families carried family histories across oceans and into new communities. Genealogy has always been both deeply personal and profoundly civic.

That insight feels especially important as we celebrate America’s 250th.

The Declaration of Independence tells us that all people are created equal and speaks of “one people” coming together to dissolve the political bonds that once tied them to another nation. The Constitution begins with three simple words: “We the People.” Those ideals have always been aspirational, inviting each generation to expand the circle of belonging and help the nation live more fully up to its founding promises.

Genealogy offers another way into that ongoing work It also reminds us why primary sources matter.

When we explore our own family histories, we rarely rely on secondhand accounts alone. We search for birth certificates, naturalization papers, census records, death certificates, marriage licenses, letters, photographs, family Bibles, and other documents created by the people who lived those lives. These records allow us to move beyond inherited stories and encounter the past on its own terms.

The same is true of our nation’s history. The Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, letters between the founders, petitions, diaries, speeches, newspapers, and court records are, in many ways, America’s genealogy. They are primary sources that reveal who we were, what we believed, what we debated, and how our constitutional democracy came to be. Just as discovering an ancestor’s signature on a naturalization record can make family history suddenly feel real, reading the Declaration in its own words or encountering the voices of ordinary Americans who petitioned for greater liberty and equality can make our national story feel immediate and personal.

Whether we are exploring our family’s genealogy or our nation’s constitutional history, primary sources invite the same habits of mind: curiosity, close observation, empathy, and the humility to recognize that every story is richer and more complex than we first imagined.

Looking into our family histories often reveals journeys across oceans and borders, service to country, moments of hardship and resilience, and efforts to build new lives and communities. Sometimes we uncover histories we never knew. Sometimes we encounter difficult truths. Often, we find both. In every case, we are reminded that American history is not distant or abstract. It was shaped through millions of individual lives, each contributing another chapter to a story that continues today.

That perspective makes this a particularly meaningful moment to explore family history. Starting on July 4, 2026 and running through the end of August 2026, visitors to the National Constitution Center can experience The Stories of US Discovery Center, presented by Ancestry, where historical records and interactive experiences invite people to discover connections between their own families and the broader American story.

The experience also reflects a broader commitment to preserving our shared history. Through Ancestry’s partnership with the City of Philadelphia, approximately 20 million historical records, including birth, marriage, death, naturalization, and property records, will be digitized over the next two years, expanding access to the stories of the people who helped shape both Philadelphia and the nation.

These efforts are about more than preserving the past. They invite us to see history as something we inherit together and continue to write together. That idea is at the heart of the National Constitution Center’s Our Story Continues campaign, which encourages all of us to recognize our place in the nation’s ongoing constitutional story.

Understanding the past helps us better understand one another and ourselves. It reminds us that every family has a story worth telling and that every community has helped shape the nation we have inherited.

Civic learning begins with connection. Sometimes that connection starts with reading the Declaration. Sometimes it begins with visiting a historic place. Sometimes it starts around a family dinner table. And sometimes it begins by discovering the name of a great-grandparent in a centuries-old record.

As Americans gather in Philadelphia during this historic anniversary year, I hope they will not only reflect on the nation’s founding documents but also ask what stories brought their own families to this moment.

Because the American story has always been written not only by the extraordinary figures we remember, but by the countless ordinary people whose lives became part of something larger than themselves.

This article originally appeared in Constitution Daily on July 3, 2026.

There is an oversimplified story we often tell about the American founding that is both incomplete and, at this particular moment, deeply misleading. The Declaration of Independence is signed in 1776. A new nation is born. Liberty triumphs. The story ends.

History, of course, was far messier, and far more instructive.

The generation that declared independence quickly discovered that winning a revolution was not the same as sustaining a constitutional republic. The Articles of Confederation, remarkable for their moment, proved unequal to the demands of self-government. The promise of the Revolution required something more durable: stronger institutions, a constitutional framework capable of governing a free people, and a civic culture that could sustain both.

So the founding generation did something extraordinary: they began again. Eleven years after the Declaration, they gathered in Philadelphia to ask one of the most consequential questions in American history: What would it take not simply to win liberty, but to preserve it for ourselves and our posterity?

The Constitution was their answer.

And, yet, here too the story of our founding does not end.

The decades that followed were devoted to giving constitutional government a durable foundation. Americans established new national institutions, debated the meaning of federalism and individual rights, ratified the Bill of Rights, built courts and systems of public administration, expanded educational institutions, founded voluntary associations, and gradually developed the civic habits necessary to sustain self-government.

The founders understood something we too often forget. Constitutions create governments. People sustain them.

Nearly half a century later, Alexis de Tocqueville recognized what had made the American experiment so distinctive. He admired the Constitution, but he was equally struck by the habits, institutions, and associations that surrounded it. Americans formed associations for every conceivable purpose. They built schools, churches, newspapers, charitable organizations, town meetings, and civic societies. They solved problems together long before they expected government to solve them. These institutions taught cooperation, responsibility, compromise, and the everyday practices of citizenship.

Tocqueville understood that constitutional government depends on far more than constitutional design. In modern terms, he understood that it also depended upon what we call constitutional culture.

He warned that democracy could just as easily produce isolation as participation. Citizens might retreat into private life, becoming disconnected from one another and from the institutions that sustain freedom. A democracy could retain its constitutional forms while gradually losing the civic habits that gave those forms meaning.

His warning feels remarkably contemporary.

For much of our history, Americans have understandably celebrated the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights as extraordinary achievements. But those documents did not secure the American experiment on their own.

What secured it was generation after generation of Americans who accepted responsibility for strengthening the institutions, associations, and civic culture that allowed constitutional democracy to flourish.

That history has never felt more relevant than it does today.

America’s 250th anniversary invited us to remember the founding. I spent years working alongside remarkable colleagues across the country to ensure it became more than a birthday celebration. Through national coalitions, collaborative initiatives, and planning efforts, we sought to transform the anniversary into a once-in-a-generation opportunity for civic welcome, belonging, reflection, and renewal.

In many ways, we succeeded. Across the country, extraordinary educators, museums, libraries, veterans’ organizations, civic groups, historical societies, and community leaders created opportunities for Americans to learn, serve, celebrate, and reconnect. Millions participated. Countless acts of civic generosity unfolded in communities large and small.

Yet taken as a whole, the anniversary often felt fragmented rather than shared. Moments of invitation were real, but they were too often momentary and fleeting.

The more I’ve reflected on that experience, the more convinced I’ve become that we asked too much of collaboration and too little of institution-building. We relied on networks when we needed infrastructure. We coordinated when we should have been building enduring capacity. We celebrated thousands of remarkable local efforts without investing early enough in the shared institutions, philanthropic partnerships, and civic architecture that could have connected those efforts into something larger than the sum of their parts.

That realization has stayed with me because I have come to believe it points toward one of the founding’s most important lessons: great constitutional moments do not end with celebration. They begin with the work of building what comes next.

In that respect, I find an unexpected historical parallel.

The Articles of Confederation reflected a nation rich in ideals, talent, and local commitment, but one that lacked the institutional framework necessary for sustained collective action. The states were capable of remarkable things individually, yet too often struggled to act together as one nation.

America’s 250th revealed a different version of the same challenge. Across the country, extraordinary organizations accomplished extraordinary work. What we lacked was not creativity or commitment. We lacked sufficient shared infrastructure, sustained investment, and common purpose to transform thousands of individual efforts into a lasting movement for civic renewal.

That is not a criticism. It is a lesson. And it may be the most important lesson America’s 250th has to offer. The founders responded to fragmentation by building stronger institutions. We have the opportunity to do the same.

That is why I believe the decade and a half between the Declaration’s 250th anniversary this year, the Constitution’s 250th in 2037, and the Bill of Rights’ 250th in 2041 should be understood not simply as a sequence of commemorations, but as a national period of civic renewal.

At the National Constitution Center we call that project the Civic Decade.

Not because it is literally 10 years long—it isn’t (it’s actually 15 years long)—but because it represents a distinct era with a distinct purpose.

The Civic Decade is an invitation to treat this generation the way the founding generation treated theirs: as a moment not simply to celebrate our constitutional inheritance, but to strengthen the institutions, civic habits, and constitutional culture that will determine whether it flourishes for another 250 years.

Democracy has always been fragile. Self-government has always required work. Constitutions do not preserve themselves. Rights do not defend themselves. Institutions do not build and renew themselves. People do.

The question before us is not whether America will celebrate its founding. The question is whether we will use this remarkable sequence of anniversaries to leave behind a stronger constitutional democracy than the one we inherited.

That requires us to begin asking a different set of questions.

What would success actually look like?

For me, it would mean stronger civic institutions that more Americans visit, support, volunteer with, and trust. Museums, libraries, archives, schools, local governments, historical societies, civic organizations, courts, and places of constitutional memory should emerge from this period more vibrant than they entered it.

It would mean a national recommitment to civic learning—not only through major investments in K–12 education, but throughout American life. Civic learning should happen in classrooms, certainly, but also around dinner tables, in museums, libraries, faith communities, neighborhood organizations, and workplaces. We should recover the understanding that preparing children for citizenship is not solely the responsibility of schools. Families have always been our first civic institutions. Reviving a culture of civic parenting may prove one of the most important investments we can make.

It would mean rebuilding American civil society. More Americans participating in local organizations. More volunteering. More opportunities for neighbors to know one another. More places where disagreement is practiced with respect rather than contempt. At a time of growing loneliness, isolation, and polarization, rebuilding civic life is not only good for democracy. It is essential to human flourishing.

It would mean cultivating a richer constitutional culture defined not only by greater knowledge of our founding documents, but by deeper habits of curiosity, humility, civil dialogue, institutional trust, and shared responsibility.

And it would mean developing the courage to measure whether any of this is actually happening.

One of the projects I’m most excited to lead through my work at the National Constitution Center is helping define what success during the Civic Decade should look like. Not simply counting visitors, programs, or events, but asking more meaningful questions.

Are Americans more connected to civic institutions?

Are families talking more about citizenship?

Are young people receiving richer civic learning?

Are communities investing more deeply in the organizations that sustain democratic life?

Is civil society stronger than it was when this decade began?

This Substack is my attempt to think through those questions in public.

Together we’ll explore constitutional culture, civic learning, civic parenting, philanthropy, museums, civil society, institutional trust, civic infrastructure, the role of technology, and the ideas that might shape America’s next great chapter.

We’ll learn from historians, educators, constitutional scholars, technologists, philanthropists, institutional leaders, parents, and civic practitioners. We’ll celebrate promising experiments. We’ll acknowledge failures honestly. And we’ll ask, over and over again, what self-government requires of us now.

The founders did not leave us a finished form of government.

They left us the responsibility to keep building it.

The Civic Decade begins now.

I’m grateful you’re here.

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Resources 

• “Short (and very long) term time capsules to be kept in Philly as part of America 250 celebrations,” Nick Kariuki for WHYY, July 3, 2026 

• “Reno family selected for America 250 time capsule ceremony in Philadelphia,” This Is Reno, July 13, 2026 

• “Local family participates in time capsule ceremony,” NBC10 Philadelphia, July 3, 2026 

• Civic Quest, National Constitution Center 

• Trivial Pursuit: Exploring America’s Story, National Constitution Center

Stay Connected and Learn More 

• Stay connected with Civic Parenting—follow, rate, and review the show wherever you listen.

• Questions or comments? Email podcast@constitutioncenter.org.

• Follow @ConstitutionCtr on social media, explore more activities and programs designed for families from the National Constitution Center, or subscribe to receive our family resources email newsletter. 

• Support our important work by making a donation today. 

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Resources 

• Ben Sheehan, What Does the Constitution Say?: A Kid’s Guide to How Our Democracy Works (2021) 

• Ben Sheehan, Civics Made Easy, PBS 

• New Jersey State Dinosaur Hardosaurus foulkii

Stay Connected and Learn More 

• Stay connected with Civic Parenting—follow, rate, and review the show wherever you listen. 

• Questions or comments? Email podcast@constitutioncenter.org. 

• Follow @ConstitutionCtr on social media and explore more activities and programs designed for families from the National Constitution Center or subscribe to receive our family resources email newsletter.

• Support our important work by making a donation today. 

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Resources 

• Beverly Gage, This Land is Your Land: A Road Trip Through U.S. History (2026) 

• “America Turns 250: A Guide to the Coming Festivities,” The New York Times (Jan. 22, 2026) 

• “America 250 Calendar: Ways to Celebrate the Nation Across the Nation,” The Wall Street Journal (June 6, 2026)

Stay Connected and Learn More 

• Questions or comments about the show? Email us at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠podcast@constitutioncenter.org⁠⁠⁠ 

• Continue the conversation by following us on social media @ConstitutionCtr 

• Explore the ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠America at 250 Civic Toolkit⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ 

• Explore ⁠⁠⁠We the People⁠⁠⁠ for a deeper dive   

• ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Sign up⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ to receive Constitution Weekly, our email roundup of constitutional news and debate  

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Justice Gorsuch and Nitze also discuss how stories can help children connect with the founding era, why it matters to introduce young learners to both famous and lesser-known figures from our nation's past, and how families can use America's 250th anniversary as an opportunity to deepen civic curiosity, strengthen historical understanding, and help prepare the next generation for the responsibilities of citizenship and self-government. 

Resources  

• Heroes of 1776: The Story of the Declaration of Independence 

• National Constitution Center, Civic Story Hour with U.S. Supreme Court Justice Neil M. Gorsuch and Janie Nitze 

• National Constitution Center, The Declaration of Independence 

• National Constitution Center, Family Learning Resources 

• National Constitution Center, Civic Quest, a new play-based family learning experience 

• National Constitution Center, NCC Trivial Pursuit: Exploring America’s Story (Bitesize) 

• Julie Silverbrook, “At 250, America Needs Civic Parenting, Not Just Civics Classes,” The Fulcrum (May 5, 2026)

Stay Connected and Learn More 

• Questions or comments about the show? Email us at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠podcast@constitutioncenter.org⁠⁠ 

• Continue the conversation by following us on social media @ConstitutionCtr 

• Explore the ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠America at 250 Civic Toolkit⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ 

• Explore ⁠⁠We the People⁠⁠ for a deeper dive   

• ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Sign up⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ to receive Constitution Weekly, our email roundup of constitutional news and debate  

• Follow, rate, and review wherever you listen  

• Join us at the ⁠⁠museum⁠⁠, attend an upcoming ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠live program⁠,⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ or watch recordings on ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠YouTube⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ 

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Throughout the conversation, we examine how these small relational experiences help children build the psychological and civic muscles necessary for life in a constitutional democracy. We talk about the importance of teaching children that democracy is not built on unanimity, but on learning how to live, work, and solve problems together despite our differences. Together, we reflect on how families, schools, libraries, museums, and local civic institutions can work together to nurture the next generation of engaged citizens and strengthen the habits of self-government that sustain constitutional democracy. 

Resources 

• National Constitution Center, Family Learning Resources 

• National Constitution Center, Civic Quest, a new play-based family learning experience 

• National Constitution Center, NCC Trivial Pursuit: Exploring America’s Story (Bitesize) 

• Julie Silverbrook, “At 250, America Needs Civic Parenting, Not Just Civics Classes,” The Fulcrum (May 5, 2026) 

• Rick Hess, “What Is Civic Hope? And Why Should Schools Care About It?,” Education Week (March 17, 2026)  

• Lindsey Cormack, How to Raise a Citizen (And Why It's up to You to Do It) (2024) 

• Sarah Vacchiano, Civic EQ 

Stay Connected and Learn More 

• Questions or comments about the show? Email us at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠podcast@constitutioncenter.org⁠ 

• Continue the conversation by following us on social media @ConstitutionCtr 

• Explore the ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠America at 250 Civic Toolkit⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ 

• Explore ⁠We the People⁠ for a deeper dive   

• ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Sign up⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ to receive Constitution Weekly, our email roundup of constitutional news and debate  

• Follow, rate, and review wherever you listen  

• Join us at the ⁠museum⁠, attend an upcoming ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠live program⁠,⁠⁠⁠⁠ or watch recordings on ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠YouTube⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ 

• Support our important work: 

⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Donate⁠ 

Resources 

• National Constitution Center, Family Learning Resources 

• National Constitution Center, Civic Quest, a new play-based family learning experience 

• Lindsey Cormack, How to Raise a Citizen (And Why it's up to You to Do It), (2024) 

• Sarah Vacchiano, Civic EQ 

Stay Connected and Learn More 

• Questions or comments about the show? Email us at ⁠⁠⁠⁠podcast@constitutioncenter.org 

• Continue the conversation by following us on social media @ConstitutionCtr 

• Explore the ⁠⁠⁠⁠America at 250 Civic Toolkit⁠⁠⁠⁠ 

• Explore We the People for a deeper dive   

• ⁠⁠⁠⁠Sign up⁠⁠⁠⁠ to receive Constitution Weekly, our email roundup of constitutional news and debate  

• Follow, rate, and review wherever you listen  

• Join us at the museum, attend an upcoming ⁠⁠⁠⁠live program⁠,⁠⁠⁠ or watch recordings on ⁠⁠⁠⁠YouTube⁠⁠⁠⁠ 

• Support our important work: 

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Civic Parenting is a special 10-episode series hosted by Julie Silverbrook, chief content and learning officer of the National Constitution Center, joined by Lindsey Cormack, author of How to Raise a Citizen, and Sarah Vacchiano of CivicEQ.

Each episode explores how those habits take shape in real life. From reading and storytelling to navigating disagreement, from family routines to community experiences, the series offers practical ways to connect everyday moments to the enduring principles of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. This is a series for parents, caregivers, educators, and anyone who believes that the work of citizenship begins at home.

Follow Civic Parenting in your favorite podcast app and join a national conversation about how we raise the next generation of citizens.