The secret to winning small-town America isn’t big speeches; it’s real conversations, especially in the upcoming November elections.

I grew up in the epitome of small-town America: 3,000 people, a few traffic lights, a family-owned pharmacy and, most recently, a Dunkin’ Donuts. But most of us prefer the familiarity of our local mom-and-pop shops. On patronymic roads, we know who each farm belongs to. We even noticed when the delicate balance of our town’s ecosystem seemed off because a local donkey hadn’t been seen for a few weeks. Spoiler alert: The donkey turned up and has been rehomed.

But, while many families in this town have been here for generations, my parents immigrated to this country and chose the rolling hills of Harford County, Maryland as their home.

My upbringing was more global than that of my grade-school classmates. I spent summers visiting family in Egypt and Greece, eating koshary and spanakopita, before returning home, while their summers were spent going to the beach in Ocean City, eating boardwalk fries and saltwater taffy. As a child, I always appreciated these faraway visits, but it wasn’t until adulthood that I appreciated growing up in a tightly knit community — or understood how this shapes the politics of these small towns.

The most recent visit to my parent’s house sparked an interesting conversation with our neighbors. They own a beautiful farm where they rescue horses, chickens, dogs, cats, goats and even a turkey (our next gathering will cover the topic of how one “rescues” a turkey). As we sat in my parent’s backyard, surrounded by the chorus of frogs, cicadas and crickets, we began discussing politics — a topic people often say to avoid, but one that is a guilty pleasure of mine.

Our neighbor cautiously hinted that his political views leaned conservative. I appreciated his thoughtfulness, as he knew of my work in progressive politics in Washington, D.C. But it made me wonder: Have we drifted so far from our core humanity that we can’t simply sit together on a beautiful August night and enjoy each other’s company, even if our neighbors hold different political views?

As we continued talking, I reassured him that this was a “safe space” and admitted that my voting history wasn’t exclusively aligned with one party. In places like Harford County, local candidates become accessible during elections through door-to-door campaigning. We welcome them inside our home with tea or coffee and build relationships through these face-to-face interactions. This is still how things are done in towns like ours. We care more about trust than party affiliation.

Which brings us to the political moment we’re in. “Is this really the best person we could find to represent the party?” my neighbor asked. “And how can so many Republican officials line up to blindly support and follow him?”

At that moment, I saw both opportunity and hope. We often generalize voters with a broad MAGA-red brush. But a recent poll shows that while voters in places like the heartlands are not overwhelmingly enthusiastic, they still lean toward Donald Trump over other candidates due to dissatisfaction with how Democrats have addressed their concerns. As we talked, we agreed on issues like the economy, affordable health care, rising gas prices and quality education. We also noted how Trump’s Republican Party has moved away from its traditional values.

Enter Gov. Tim Walz, who could be a game-changer. Accepting the nomination as vice presidential candidate to the tune of John Mellencamp’s “Small Town,” Walz is a strategic choice for the Democrats against JD Vance. He has an opportunity to reconnect with residents in small towns and the heartland, providing a compelling contrast to Vance’s detached perspective and controversial positions. Walz’s campaign strategy emphasizes grassroots engagement and a renewed focus on local needs, addressing this disenchantment that has driven many away from the party.

His appeal to voters is rooted in his bipartisan approach and understanding of their needs. Walz’s record as a congressman highlights a consistent commitment to agricultural issues, supporting farm policies and conservation programs. Growing up working on a farm himself, Walz brings an authentic connection, enhancing his relatability. He recognizes and values the contributions towns like mine make — such as bringing food to families across the country.

Living in a small town often comes with assumptions that can oversimplify and misunderstand our experiences. Walz’s approach lets Democrats move past stereotypes and reconnect with voters. By focusing on local issues and engaging directly with the community, Democrats can bridge divides and rebuild trust.

It’s funny to think that the missing donkey — our local mystery — turned out to be the perfect symbol for the Democratic Party. After all, if our town’s emblematic donkey can get lost and still be found, maybe there’s hope for Democrats to rediscover their footing in the heartlands of America too.

Iman Awad grew up in Harford County and is deputy director of Muslim American outreach group Emgage.