Could the Houston Rodeo be the answer to America’s divisions?
Summary: Calista Small, one of our Research Managers, recently authored “The Connection Opportunity: Insights for Bringing Americans Together Across Difference”published in March 2025. Here, she writes about participating in the Houston Rodeo, one of the case studies in the report.
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Two years ago, I woke up, put on speckled cow-hide boots, and went to a work meeting at a rodeo. I had never been to a rodeo before, and I joked to my friends before I got on the plane at JFK about how difficult it was to create an outfit that seemed both work-and-rodeo appropriate. As a West-coast raised vegetarian, I was sensitive about coming across as too green; I wanted to fit in.
I was at the rodeo for, out of all things, a research project. I, along with our research team at More in Common, was studying social connection in the United States, specifically connecting across lines of difference. Houston—one of the most demographically diverse regions in the country—was a focus for our work. We got advice that, if we wanted to understand Houston, we couldn’t miss the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo.
In the morning at the rodeo, we met our guide, Adrian. He had 17 years of Rodeo volunteering under his belt, and we were expecting him to tell us all about it as he showed us around the giant barn. 17 years of volunteering? I thought, surprised. Insert joke here about this being my first time at a rodeo.
There were many things that would come to surprise me about the Houston Rodeo. It turns out there are 35,000 volunteers every year—enough to run a small nation’s army. As Adrian introduced us to group after group of uniformed volunteers with kind, firm handshakes and stories of rodeos past, I realized that this was no one-off non-sibi day—this was an institution that cultivated a deep sense of community and pride. And no wonder: the volunteers weren’t just supporting the Rodeo, they practically ran the Rodeo.
For many, it was a lifelong commitment: they had started in high school and had been doing it for fifteen years or more. They wore pins to indicate what type of volunteer group they represented; some walked around with iPads and cowboy hats, interviewing attendees about their experience. They were of all ages and ethnicities and backgrounds, all glad that my colleague and I were there. “Researchers from New York and DC!” many said, when they greeted us. “Wow. Y’all staying for the show?”
Of course we were. But I didn’t need to see a bucking bull in order to be impressed by what was going on; I was already astonished. I had personally never seen so many people giving themselves to serve at such a large scale—and especially not for a cultural event.
And then there was the fundraising. Adrian beamed as he showed us the winning pieces from the state-wide high school art competition, which had been auctioned off for over a hundred thousand dollars. He then pulled up a photo of a student who had just graduated medical school, a former volunteer, whose tuition was heavily subsidized by the Rodeo. The Rodeo raises a shocking $14 million a year for scholarships.
Why aren’t more people talking about this? my bicoastal bias piped. An affordable, beloved cultural event that also awards money to young Texan artists and helps students go to college? The Rodeo is doing it all.
Social scientists like myself know how important experiences like these are for cultivating a sense of community belonging and for helping to build trust between groups. Lots of cultural events in the US are ticketed and expensive, only occur for one day, or don’t really serve to connect people in meaningful ways. But not the Rodeo. Here was an event where thousands of people got to do something meaningful and be part of something bigger than themselves. They were connecting with a variety of people over three weeks, in ways that were fun and affordable, and created a real sense of pride in their shared local identity.
Of course, the Houston Rodeo can’t be exported; it’s the Houston Rodeo. However, two years later, and a mini-textbook sized research report behind me, I firmly believe that it can serve as a model for the kind of community gathering that is widely needed today.
At a time when Americans feel disconnected and divided, we need events like these: affordable, fun, large events that are a long way from politics and allow people from all sorts of backgrounds and beliefs to come together and contribute positively to community life. As I’ve learned from my research, a majority Americans want to connect across lines of difference but lack genuine opportunities to do so. We need these opportunities to reconnect and build positive, meaningful relationships with the people who live in our communities—people who may be very different from us but are no less American.
By investing in, organizing, and prioritizing events that bring community members together—especially events where the community itself plays a role in shaping those experiences to give back to where they live—we can do the important work of repairing our country’s fraying culture of connection.
The Houston Rodeo just finished and while I wasn’t able to attend this year, I tip my proverbial cowgirl hat in support and recognition. In the meantime, I’ll be dreaming up ways to create mini rodeos of my own.
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