Here’s your chance to listen to a firsthand account of one of the most horrible parts of our recent human history, and how we stop it from happening again. This episode features a conversation with a psychologist whose life's work sits at the intersection of two of humanity's most extreme capacities: the capacity for cruelty, and the capacity for courage. 

A survivor of the Holocaust in Hungary, hiding in Budapest as a six-year-old, he became a leading researcher on the psychology of genocide, group violence, and altruism - work that has shaped police training programs on "active bystandership," informed reconciliation efforts in Rwanda, and produced decades of research on what leads ordinary people to help others, even at personal risk.

Do you know someone who's been incarcerated? Have you ever actually asked them their story, instead of judging them on that one fact?

Because 95% of incarcerated people eventually leave prison and come home. They are our neighbors, our coworkers, our family members. 

Here’s why this is relevant to you today: This administration has made "tough on crime" the centerpiece of its second term - among other things, reviving the federal death penalty, pushing back against cashless bail reform, and pressuring prosecutors nationwide to seek harsher sentences (when, of course, it benefits them and/or the MAGA agenda). The message from Washington is loud and clear: punishment first, everything else second.

But here's a question nobody in Washington seems to be asking: what happens after?

How we treat people when they come home - whether we see them as people, or permanently as their worst mistake - says as much about us as any policy coming out of Washington.

So today we're going straight to a conversation that is one of our favorites, with someone who's lived both sides of this story: Marcus Bullock, CEO of Flikshop, who was incarcerated as a teenager and built a company helping formerly incarcerated people stay connected to their families and rebuild their lives. This is a conversation about what "law and order" actually looks like on the ground and in people - not just in the abstract.

On June 30th, 2026, the Supreme Court ruled that states can bar transgender girls and women from competing on girls' and women's teams. Six to three. It's now the law in over half the country.

And however you feel about that ruling, here's what we noticed in the days after it came down: almost none of the coverage actually talked to a transgender kid, or the parent raising one. 

It was all policy. All abstraction. It is a decision that, on paper, is about Title IX and biological sex and constitutional interpretation. 

But underneath all that legal language is something much more personal: real kids, real families, real teams, and real decisions about who gets to belong. And let’s not forget: argued by people who've never sat across from an eight-year-old who already knows she's going to be treated differently.

So we went back into our archive. A while back, we sat down with a remarkable mom, Jaime, raising a transgender daughter in Florida. And more recently, we talked with Schuyler - you might know him as Pink Manta Ray - a multiethnic Korean American trans educator, the first transgender Division 1 athlete on a men’s team while at Harvard, and author of He, She, They: 

How We Talk About Gender and Why It Matters.

We're combining pieces of both conversations into one episode, because we think you need both things right now: Jaime's story, to feel it - and Schuyler's clarity, to know what to actually say and not say when it comes up in your own life. 

These aren’t talking points. These are ways to simply see the humanity in each other. Please listen, and share widely.

Crystal Echo Hawk's daughter gets asked if she still lives in a teepee. And Crystal's response isn't rage - it's something more unsettling. 

She gets it. 

Because 87% of American schools stop teaching about Native peoples after 1900, and 78% of Americans know very little about Native people. So that question, as painful as it is, makes a terrible kind of sense. The last data point most Americans have on Native people is somewhere around third grade. And then nothing.

Crystal Echo Hawk is a citizen of the Pawnee Nation of Oklahoma, the former executive director of IllumiNative, a national, native-led, non-profit organization born out of the “Reclaiming Native Truth Project“, a research project from 2016-2018, and was the largest public opinion research project ever conducted about native people.

She is one of the most important voices in the country on what it actually means to be Native American in America today - not in a history book, not in a Halloween costume aisle, not doing the horrifying tomahawk chop in a stadium.

This is a conversation you won’t want to miss.

Imagine you're six years old. You look out past a barbed wire fence at a highway in the desert, and every single car that passes by is driven by someone white. The teachers who come to your school? White. The guards in the towers above you, also white. And you think to yourself: is this America? Or is America out there? 

That child was John Tateishi. He was almost three years old when the U.S. government forced his entire family - along with 120,000 other Japanese Americans - from their homes and into concentration camps on American soil. His family ended up at Manzanar. And when the war ended, they were handed $25 and told to find their way home.

What John did with that childhood - with that rage, that clarity, that love of country despite everything this country did to him - is an important story in American history, and honestly one that many adults may not have even learned in their history classes growing up. 

He went on to lead the Japanese American redress campaign, helping secure a formal government apology and reparations. He's the author of Redress: The Inside Story of the Successful Campaign for Japanese American Reparations. He shares a lot about what that fight means today - for the Black reparations movement, for anti-Asian hate, and for the question that sits at the center of all of it: Who gets to be American? 

As we move towards a celebration of America’s birthday, that question sits front and center for many of us, as we’re actively being told that we’re not American. These stories show us not only how we reject that narrow view, but also how to fight for ourselves and one another while loving our communities, families, and country at the same time.

Six people. That's all it took. Six young men sitting in a law office in Pulaski, Tennessee, in December of 1865 - just eight months after the Civil War ended - decided to start a secret club. One that, 150 years later, still impacts our country today. 

To combat the recent erasure of history and ensure these stories remain not only alive but top of mind, this summer we are re-releasing some of our most important historical episodes from the last seven years. 

We hope you listen, share, like, and all those things, but most importantly, learn from them, and translate that into action, even if it’s just telling one other person about this. 

Change doesn’t have to be big. 

But these episodes show us how we got to where we are currently - and now, it’s time to do something about it.

What does it mean to be American? What does it mean to be Asian American — and why, in 2026, are so many of us still leading with worry?

Today, in honor of AANHPI Heritage Month, we're diving into the TAAF STAATUS Index 2026 by unpacking some stats that are eye-opening, some that are infuriating, and some that are deeply familiar. We'll talk about how Asian Americans are seen - and how we see ourselves - from the food on our plates to the question of whether you even have to be born here to belong here.

It's AANHPI Heritage Month, and we have some thoughts (unsurprising to all of our regular listeners, we’re sure!). If this episode resonates with you, please share widely - and let us know what action step you decided to take after listening.

What if the thing holding back justice isn't lack of will — it's lack of access? 

Today's guest is doing something about that after coming up from a really rough time in high school, a near-fatal car crash, a parent who believed in him endlessly, and ending up not only at Stanford Law but also with one of the most powerful mentors in the field of law.

For those of you who - like Sara - have liked to tease lawyers for being miserable people with secret languages, this episode brings the absolute best in the field to rehabilitate that image, infuse us with hope and humanity, and remind us that, even if we’re not lawyers, there is a LOT we can each do to make the world a better place.