In the summer between my sophomore and junior years of college, I had the opportunity to participate in a charity bike ride called Journey of Hope, which raised money and awareness for people with disabilities. The ride began in San Francisco and ended on the steps of the U.S. Capitol in Washington, D.C. Our route took us over the Sierra Nevada mountain range, south through the deserts of the Southwest, across Texas and the Southeast, and finally north to Washington, D.C.

As I look back, I can’t quite remember what my expectations were before starting the journey aside from knowing I hadn’t trained enough and would be in a lot of pain! Nearly two decades later, however, I know exactly what I came to appreciate most: the rich diversity of our country and the ways communities come together to care for one another.

When you’re forced to slow down your travel, you begin to notice things you might otherwise miss. The United States is full of extraordinary natural beauty. I loved the slow climbs to notice the many layers of the forests and rocky mountain peaks, appreciating the diversity of the desert that challenged my assumption that it’s just full of sand, and even the dreadful humidity of the southeast didn’t spoil the gratitude I felt cycling through the rolling green hills of Alabama and Mississippi. Slowing down gave me the space to appreciate my surroundings more fully.

This is true not only of the natural world, but of one another as well. Surrounded by fast paced lives, a nonstop news cycle, and quick judgments, we rarely create the space to truly see and appreciate each other. Over the many miles I traveled that summer, I had the opportunity to notice the incredible diversity of communities scattered across the U.S. in an intentional and meaningful way.

Our team visited organizations and groups united by a single purpose: to serve people living with physical and intellectual disabilities. From large cities to small towns, we attended dance parties, shared meals (I’ve never eaten so much spaghetti in my life!), presented grant funding, and witnessed countless examples of people coming together despite significant obstacles. It was powerful to see the many ways communities show care for those who are often overlooked in our society. And despite being a group of college students, we were met with an extraordinary level of hospitality at every stop along the way. I am grateful for the people we met and the lessons of hospitality and cooperation that I learned that summer. I continue to carry them with me in my personal and professional life.

At Interfaith America, this understanding of the beauty and power of a road trip has always been in our organizational core. When asked about his connection to the 2026 Summit theme, IA president and founder Eboo Patel shared how his own travel experiences have shaped his understanding of pluralism and the potential it holds:

I’ve been fortunate enough to do road trips around the United States, Britain, South Africa, Turkey, and India, and each one was a profound spiritual journey. I’ve stayed at Catholic Worker houses up and down the East Coast, had an audience with the Dalai Lama in Dharmsala, prayed with Muslims who were part of the struggle against apartheid in Cape Town, and listened to the wisdom of Jewish sages in London. I’ve discovered beauty in our differences and inspiration in our common ground. Each time I came home more convinced than ever of the remarkable things we could accomplish together.

I couldn’t agree more. I am also more convinced than ever that remarkable things are possible when we work together. We see this often through nonprofit work, after natural disasters, and when human rights are at risk or under attack. This is the inspiration we hope to offer at this year’s Interfaith Leadership Summit. This August, hundreds of college students and educators who care deeply about the future of our religiously diverse society will gather in Chicago to bridge divides and forge friendships across lines of difference in order to cooperate for the common good.