Over the past year, Richmond has been navigating a season of tension and transformation. Public debates around housing, harm reduction, and community safety have stirred strong emotions, fear, grief, frustration, and hope. Council meetings have been packed. Rallies have been held. Voices have risen in protest and in prayer. But beneath the headlines and heated exchanges, something quieter is needed: groundwork. Not just the groundwork of infrastructure or policy, but the groundwork of relationships. Of listening. Of showing up. Of asking, “What kind of city are we becoming?”

Some have responded to these challenges with resistance, mobilizing against projects they fear will bring disorder or danger. Others have responded with compassion, advocating for care, dignity, and support for those on the margins. These responses often reflect deeper values, shaped by culture, experience, and trust or the lack thereof. And here’s where the real work begins.

In Richmond, conservative influence, especially within the Chinese-speaking community, is powerful and deeply rooted. It shapes how people interpret safety, morality, and civic responsibility. It’s not simply about ideology; it’s about trust, tradition, and the stories people carry. And yet, despite the urgency, I have not seen meaningful efforts from progressive groups to engage this community in a sustained, relational way. At least not that I know of.

This is a challenge, not to win debates, but to build trust. It’s a call, not to speak louder, but to listen deeper. And it’s an invitation to show up in ways that are practical, patient, and personal.

Groundwork means more than translated flyers or media interviews. It means sustained engagement, like offering English programs that go beyond grammar and vocabulary. These programs help people settle. They offer newcomers not only language skills, but a sense of orientation, confidence, and connection. They become spaces where people begin to understand the values that shape civic life: compassion, equity, and shared responsibility.

And just as importantly, they help people integrate into the broader community, not just remain within Chinatown or Chinese-speaking circles. They stretch perspectives. They open doors to new relationships, civic participation, and shared belonging. They help people see themselves not just as guests, but as contributors to the common good. In fact, these programs support individuals in growing their lives, expanding their professional networks, discovering new opportunities, and advancing their careers. They foster not just language fluency, but life fluency.

This isn’t about persuasion. It’s about accompaniment. It’s not like the government’s language training programs focused on daily survival and employment. This is deeper. It’s about helping people understand the “why” behind the “what.” It’s about creating spaces where people can ask questions, wrestle with unfamiliar ideas, and encounter progressive perspectives not as threats, but as invitations to shared care and community-building. It’s about building trust, not just fluency.

And in this way, we begin to break the grip of misinformation, manipulation, and fear. When people no longer buy into twisted narratives or politicized arguments, when they begin to see through the personal and political agendas behind them, those voices lose their power. Influence fades when trust is built elsewhere. Groundwork is not just a strategy; it’s quiet resistance. It’s how we shift the conversation to one relationship at a time.

This kind of groundwork also means reaching out to small businesses, listening to their concerns, sharing truth with clarity and respect, and building mutual understanding. It means partnering with Chinese-speaking organizations that already have trust within the community and working together to help people understand the science, facts, and values behind public policies. It means hosting Chinese-language panels and workshops that foster learning and dialogue, not just about issues, but about shared hopes and practical solutions. It means proposing win-win approaches that honor both community concerns and progressive commitments.

And we must remember that explaining most of these issues takes time. People come from diverse cultures and traditions, with varied values and perspectives on interpreting the world. We cannot expect instant agreement or understanding. What we can offer is presence, patience, and the willingness to walk alongside others as they explore unfamiliar ideas and perspectives.

To gain trust, we must show that what we stand for, and what we’ve been saying, is true, good, and life-giving. People need to see it, feel it, and believe it for themselves. That doesn’t happen through statements alone. It happens through consistent, relational groundwork. Through practical help. Through honest dialogue. Through consistently showing up, until trust is earned and shared.

This is slow work. It’s relational work. It’s the kind of work that doesn’t always make headlines, but changes hearts. Richmond is not alone in this. Cities across the region are wrestling with similar tensions. But our story is uniquely invented by many cultures, generations, and hopes.

So, what does bridge-building look like here? It appears to be in person. Listening with humility and translating not just words, but values as well. It looks like faith communities are offering care, even when answers are elusive. It appears that neighbors are reaching across divides—not to win arguments, but to build trust. It looks like us.

The work ahead is not easy. But if progressive groups are willing to lay the groundwork, quietly, faithfully, relationally, we may find that the bridges we build are stronger than we imagined. Because in the end, building bridges is not just about crossing divides. It’s about creating pathways toward healing, belonging, and a Richmond where everyone has a place.