We’re all familiar with the feeling: you open your phone, read the news, and feel your stomach drop. Another headline. Another crisis. Another reason to feel like things are falling apart.
But what if we flipped the script?
Instead of asking what’s going wrong, we asked something quieter—and maybe more important:
What still gives you hope?
Through Civic Pulse, Murmuration asked more than 40,000 Americans about their sources of hope and forward-looking belief. Here’s what they told us.
The Everyday Anchors of Hope
First things first, an alarming number of people (11.8%), said just one word:
“Nothing.”
Or some variation of unsure / don’t know. This type of response was more common among mid-to-older Americans, low-income respondents, and those who identify as politically left or independent.
For everyone else, we grouped their answers into major themes and while the specifics varied, the emotional core was clear and it was often intimate: “My family.” or “My job.” or “My God.”
Family and Friends | 31%
More than any other category, people said the presence and well-being of loved ones kept them hopeful. This was about connection. The reminder that we are not alone in this world. That our joys are shared, our burdens made lighter by the people who care about us. Hope came in the form of children’s laughter, deep conversations with friends, Sunday dinners, and simply knowing someone had your back.
“One thing that makes me feel hopeful about my future is simply having someone that believes in me and accepts all of me.” — 30-year-old female from Fort Myers, Florida
“The only thing that keeps me hopeful are my children.” — 41-year-old Black female from Rochester, New York
“My family.” — 64-year-old Hispanic male from Sealy, Texas
Career and Finances | 22%
The next source of hope is career and financial stability. This was hope tied to the ability to support oneself and feel useful. For some, it came from landing a job after months of searching. For others, it was the pride of owning a small business or finishing a degree. For older Americans, it was about having the funds to retire. In a country where economic insecurity is rampant, the possibility of self-sufficiency and upward mobility remains a powerful motivator.
“Getting a promotion.” — 26-year-old Asian male from Providence, Rhode Island
“Making more money.” — 43-year-old Black women from Savannah, Georgia
“I seem to have enough money saved to make it into later life. That's happening now, so I'm hopeful that the money will last until I die.” — 70-year-old male who is retired from Santa Paula, California
Optimism and Aspirations | 15%
For many, hope comes not from what is—but from what could be. These were the dreamers, the believers, the ones who hold onto the idea that tomorrow can be better than today. Their hope isn’t rooted in current conditions but in imagination, progress, and personal or collective growth. They spoke of goals they were working toward, of breakthroughs they believed were coming, of a country still capable of change.
“My life is pretty good and I believe there will be great things ahead of me in the future.” — 24-year-old male from Fort Fairfield, Maine
“My drive and persistence.” — 34-year-old Hispanic female from Stockney, Illinois
“Seeing the end of the tunnel.” — 49-year-old male from Kenosha, Wisconsin
Religion and Spirituality | 11%
For some people, hope offers not just comfort but a moral compass. Whether rooted in God, prayer, ancestors, or a deep sense of spiritual grounding, this kind of hope was steady and unshakable. It gave people meaning. It reminded them that pain could have purpose, that light followed darkness, and that they were part of something bigger than themselves.
“My hope is in Jesus Christ.” — 28-year-old female from Bronx, New York
“I have God in me and he is my real hope and I know that he will take care of me.” — 43-year-old Asian female from Middleton, Idaho
“My faith and faith community.” — 71-year-old Middle Eastern male from Montz, Louisiana
Politics and Government | 10%
Perhaps intuitively, politics and government showed sharp divides. Some saw hope in new leadership, organizing movements, or the promise of democratic reform. Others were deeply disillusioned, but still clung to the idea that voting, protesting, or public service could create change. This wasn’t the most common source of hope—but when it did appear, it was often passionate, urgent, and grounded in civic duty. But as you might suspect, it wasn’t always talked about in a positive light.
“That eventually people will elect good people.” — 35-year-old female from Hillsboro, Oregon
“The greatest President we ever had is back in the Oval Office.” — 46-year-old Black male from Nashville, Tennessee
“More than 50% of Americans rejected Trump’s candidacy, giving some hope that a lot of people don’t trust him.” — 64-year-old Male from Acworth, Georgia
In case you’re curious about 60% of the respondents directly named Trump in their answer and about 20% tied their political hope to the economy, inflation, or lowering prices.
When Hope Sounds Like a Warning
Not every “hopeful” answer is warm and fuzzy. In fact, some came wrapped in sarcasm, grit, or rage. So we used sentiment analysis to dig deeper. Most responses were genuinely hopeful. But some carried a more complicated emotional load, especially those related to politics and government.
Democrats frequently expressed hope (often with flavors of desperation mixed-in) for change or accountability, while Republicans often tied hope to Trump’s reelection or a return to their values.
Here’s a glimpse of what that looked like over time:
In December 2024…
Democrat: “That Donald Trump will only be able to have 4 more years and then hopefully go away.” or “I am hopeful that people's eyes will be opened during the course of the next 4 years.” or “I hope that the ultra-right wing politicians will be voted out of office before too many people and democracy suffers.”
Republican: “That on January 20th Donald Trump will be sworn in as president.” or “That maybe we can get rid of our corrupt government officials” or “Hopefully Donald Trump can turn this economy around!”
In April 2025…
Democrat: “I hope justice prevails and puts Donald Trump in jail where he belongs and strips him of his wealth.” or “There's an election next year to vote out some of these government dingbats.” or “That people are beginning to wake up and see how bad its getting.”
Republican: “I feel hopeful that President Trump is finally going to get the government spending under control.” or “Donald Trump is really working hard to make America a safer place to live” or “Knowing President Trump is making American Great Again.”
Same moment. Very different hopes.
How Hope is Shifting in 2025
While many of the anchors that give people hope have remained steady, a few are clearly in flux. Most notably, career and finances, once a leading source of optimism, have been declining since January, for both Democrats and Republicans.
Political hope is shifting, too, but in opposite directions. Among Republicans, hope rooted in politics peaked in November 2024, when about 22% mentioned it as a source of optimism. Since then, it has dropped by 10 percentage points, with half of that decline occurring after Trump took office. Mentions of Trump specifically as a source of hope have dropped even more sharply and are down 59% since his election in November 2024.
Meanwhile, hope tied to politics is slowly rising among Democrats but still very low overall. What’s driving that shift? It reads a lot like “maybe it’ll be over soon.” Or said another way: Hope that people will wake up or that someone will fight back or that democracy still has a shot.
Perhaps more heartening, those who participate in multiple civic actions—voting, volunteering, organizing—report slightly higher levels of hope (11%) with respect to politics and government compared to those who are not civically engaged (7%).
Final Thoughts
We don’t want to romanticize it. Hope isn’t easy right now. But it’s still here. It’s still real. It’s showing up in community gardens, mutual aid networks, Sunday dinners, school board meetings, quiet acts of defiance, and moments of joy that make no headlines.
Talking about hope isn’t meant to distract from the hard stuff.
It’s meant to remind us what we’re fighting for. And maybe also give us the energy for the fight.
But belief alone isn’t enough. It raises deeper questions about what that belief is anchored in and what it might take to sustain it, grow it, or share it. It brings us all to wonder this:
What’s the relationship between private resilience and public action?
Can a democracy thrive when most people’s hope lives only in the personal, not the collective?
And how do we reach the growing number of people who say the most honest answer is: nothing?
Stay tuned for more from Civic Pulse. We hope (no pun intended) you’ll keep reading.