I had the great pleasure of sharing the stage recently with two giants of American journalism—Washington Post legend Bob Woodward and former publisher Donald Graham. It was a pinch-me moment, weaving together my past life as a Post journalist and editor with my present work on mental health and democracy.
We were together for a screening of Becoming Katharine Graham, a documentary about the legendary Post publisher who played a defining role in holding President Richard Nixon accountable for corruption and abuse of power.
Katharine Graham, Don’s mother, wasn’t only remarkable for defying Nixonian intimidation and censorship attempts. She did it while facing personal adversity, too. She took over the paper after her husband, Phil, died by suicide, claiming the mantle of a company amid family trauma when women weren’t given such roles. The assignment gave her a purpose and a terrific challenge: She had to overcome her own self-doubt to give the newspaper and democracy the courage to survive attacks on their very existence.
While watching the documentary, Don Graham poked my arm and pointed at a black and white baby picture. “That’s me,” he said. When a shot of a stately white Georgetown home crossed the screen, he whispered, “That’s where I grew up.” It was a tender moment that reminded me all giants start out small.
After the screening, Don Graham, Woodward, and I joined a conversation with Fran Sterling, Education and Impact Director for Life Stories, the film’s production company. We were asked to consider Katharine Graham’s experience making the Post a pillar of democracy by publishing the Pentagon Papers, reporting the Watergate scandal, and keeping the paper running amid a violent strike by Post pressmen.
As Don Graham said, “999 CEOs of Fortune 500 companies were men. She was the only woman. And she had to figure out how to lead in a world that had never seen a woman in power like that.”
Woodward recalled that Katharine Graham described herself as “not a good combatant.” She said, “Generally, I hate fights, and I would like to run from fights.”
She was a reluctant warrior. And Woodward argued that is precisely what made her great. The reluctant warrior doesn’t want battle unless it’s necessary. They don’t run toward conflict for its own sake. But when survival is at stake, when the stakes are democracy itself, they become “the best combatant possible.”
The veteran reporter reflected on the doubt he grappled with while covering Nixon’s crimes. He remembered a time when the president’s people had just raided the Democratic National Committee headquarters at the Watergate Office Building in 1972. The coverup was already in motion. And Woodward told Katharine Graham he wasn’t sure if the truth would ever come out. She shut that down immediately, he said. “Never” was not in her vocabulary when it came to finding truth. The facts eventually came out, and Nixon resigned because of them.
Today, finding the truth is different from having it make a difference.
“Trump has overseen and directed the moral castration of America,” Woodward said, reflecting on the current president’s lies, intimidation of the press, and abuse of power unchecked by members of his party.
I looked out on the audience—teachers from Blue and Red states, including districts where saying things like that, or even sharing facts, can get you in trouble. One teacher told me he’s had students and parents get defensive and aggressive when presented with uncomfortable truths. Another asked what advice we could give them in this environment.
My advice comes from neurophysiology, belonging, and the power of stories.
People construct narratives based on their histories, their power, what they’ve done or had done to them. When all else is out of our hands, our stories are what we can control. And starting from when we are kids, stories—from parents, from society—are how we understand the world and our place in it. Stories are how we connect to others.
Now, think about what else happens when we’re little. We depend on someone else to stay alive. Belonging is one of the most fundamental needs of human beings because connection means survival. And as psychiatrist Bessel Van Der Kolk told me in an interview soon after I left the Post in 2024, when people feel like they don’t belong, they feel bereft.
When this happens, Van Der Kolk said, some people become “very prone to follow ideologues and dictators because you cannot do it alone.” Physician and trauma expert Gabor Maté told me it’s common for people to “give up authenticity for the sake of attachment.” He traced this pattern to childhood: Infants learn to suppress authentic feelings when caregivers bristle at emotional expression. This dynamic repeats in adulthood as people abandon principles to stay in personal, professional, or political tribes.
As a result, the stories we tell about ourselves and others become survival itself. Asking someone to revise their narrative based on facts can mean destabilizing what’s holding them together. That is an extremely stressful state. And when you’re activated, your brain registers information that differs from your world view as threat.
So, what should teachers do when students and parents are struggling with uncomfortable facts? Well, I’d argue they should be integrating nervous system literacy right along with media literacy. When we are more grounded, this opens the window for curiosity and critical thinking.
This is hard when political leaders, some members of the media, and social tech platform designers are hyper-charging our nervous system, keeping us revved up. They need a reset as much or more as anyone.
Katharine Graham had the luxury of running a newspaper before tech algorithms were designed to activate your amygdala, the brain’s alarm center. But she still faced real threats from the most powerful man in the world.
Then and now, the first step to navigating a chaotic information landscape is to slow down. In the Resilience Toolkit that I teach, I encourage people to notice their current stress level and whether it’s useful to them in the moment. Is it helpfully getting them ready to do hard things or have fun? Is it making them feel like they’re in danger even when they are presently safe? Or is their energy so low they don’t care about anything?
All of these states determine whether we’re seeking information to understand, to discharge anxiety or anger. They affect whether we’re open to changing our mind, or whether we’re just looking to defend against a threat, which could come in the form of an uncomfortable truth.
Katharine Graham slowed down. She asked questions. She listened. She held her fire. And when the moment came, she stood firm.
That’s the model. Not constant battle. Not numbed-out avoidance. But the capacity to stay present, assess accurately, and act when it matters.