Trust—in the government, in our political process, and in those societal institutions that offer the comfort of continuity and validate the existing order of things—is essential to a healthy and sustainable democracy.
When the governed believe those in positions of authority are leading with both competence and integrity, and that those entrusted with preservation of social norms are acting in the public interest and not simply their own, then it becomes far easier to accept the obligations of citizenship.
People find it more tolerable, for example, to pay his or her fair share of taxes, attend a city council meeting, and go to the polls and vote for the candidates of their choice if they believe their engagement matters and that they are truly being heard.
Unfortunately, that elusive quality of trust is in short supply these days. According to a 2025 Pew Research Center survey, only 17 percent of Americans trust their federal government to do the right thing—and I quote from the survey language—“just about always” or “most of the time.”
For context, this is less than half the percentage of Americans who trusted their federal government in 1974, the year Richard Nixon resigned the presidency amid the Watergate scandal. And less than a third of the proportion who retained their trust in Washington in 1968, a year punctuated by the Tet Offensive, Lyndon Johnson’s decision to forego a re-election campaign, the assassinations of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy, and a Democratic National Convention marred by images of protests and police brutality in the streets of Chicago.
This crisis of confidence in government has permeated to the relationships that Americans have with other bedrock social institutions. Recent Gallup polls confirm a sharp decline in the trust that Americans invest in police, public schools, organized religion and our health care system.
Skepticism, while transcendent of demographics and ideology, is particularly pronounced among young people. A recent study from the Harvard Kennedy School offers more confirmation:
The most defining shift among young Americans is a loss of perceived agency – a growing belief that what they do no longer shapes what happens next. Half now say people like them have no real say in government…fewer young Americans believe participation delivers results, and most see elected officials as driven by self-interest.
Is it any wonder? This is a generation that looks at Boomers and Gen Xers with bemusement as we wax nostalgic for the Good Ol’ Days, with our sepia-toned recollections of Ronald Reagan and Tip O’Neill having a drink at the end of a long-day of spirited political jostling. They have never had any “good ol’ days!”
These kids were born in the aftermath of 9/11 and a war in Iraq that was waged under the falsest of pretenses. They came into this world as America’s bedrock financial institutions were collapsing under the weight of malicious corporate greed and government acquiescence, only to be bailed out with their parents’ taxpayer dollars because a group of white guys in Cesare Attolini suits assured the lumpen proletariat that they were too big to fail.
Bear in mind, dear readers, that all of this was before the Tea Party, Donald Trump, The Proud Boys, Stormy Daniels, January 6 and Joe Biden’s conspiracy of silence. The students who, today, populate America’s colleges, universities, trade schools and service sectors have had a front row seat to this nation’s longest-running clown show. And have nothing to show for the experience other than crushing student loan debt, soaring housing costs, stagnant pay for harder work and a Social Security program that is hanging on by a rotting husk.
Which is where Odette Ramos comes in.
The native of Albuquerque, New Mexico. Born to Puerto Rican parents. Graduate of Goucher College. The political progeny of legendary U.S. Sen. Barbara Mikulski and longtime state legislative powerhouse Maggie McIntosh. A community leader who is now in her sixth year as the city councilwoman from Baltimore City’s 14th District, which includes neighborhoods such as Charles Village, Waverly, Hampden and Lake Montebello.
And Johns Hopkins. Where she recently visited on a gorgeous early autumn afternoon to speak before an audience of undergraduate students.
The visit began predictably, with the asssembled responding to Ramos’ presence with a blend of obligatory courtesy and drowsiness because they have all been treated to cameos from politicians eager to “Connect With The Youth.” The early afternoon sun rays that saturated the room, and the fact that the class literally runs through the lunch hour, did little to stem the collective ennui.
Then, she began to speak. What ensued was a master class in the attentiveness to those tangible yet often mundane things that make all the difference in their everyday lives.
Vacant property rehabilitation. Vacant lot acquisitions. Property tax sale reform. Location and alignment of bike lanes. Zoning variances. Small business permitting and startup capital.
As Ramos transitioned seamlessly between topics, she did something that was highly irregular, if not without precedent, in the shared experience of these students.
She asked them what they thought.
The cumulative effect of all of this—the useful information to which they could relate, the candor of thought, the genuine interest in how her actual constituents feel about these matters of importance to their daily lives—had a noticeable effect.
Students’ eyes stopped wandering and, instead, focused squarely upon the speaker.
Questions, viewpoints and suggestions began to flow naturally instead of being prompted by a nervous course instructor.
Phones remained planted, face down, on desks.
Odette Ramos had their full and undivided attention.
Following the class, a student shared this perspective:
I surprisingly liked her! Not that I had anything against her, but more of a bias against recent government officials…she wasn’t just talking about making change but had tangible options and a logical way to get there. Odette definitely makes me want to trust the government again.
For this writer, and for a political system that has repeatedly disappointed and alienated the best of this generation at every turn, this was everything. For 19 of the best and brightest students in America, who have been force-fed a rancid diet of the worst grotesqueries our democratic system has ever birthed (paging Sen. Eric Schmitt) a woman who lives just a few blocks over from where they sat managed to light a fresh spark of possibility that things can get better.
For this aging and battle-scarred writer, it offered a flickering spark of hope that, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, the good guys might actually win in the end.
