Countdown to 250: The Americans Building Tomorrow

Our Mission: Celebrating Everyday Exceptionalism

Here’s what we’re after: the Americans who don’t do what they do for recognition or awards. The ones who face adversity—whether it’s bureaucracy, poverty, discrimination, natural disasters, or plain old human indifference—and keep going anyway. Not because cameras are watching. Not because it’ll make them famous. But because it’s the right thing to do.

These are the Americans who get up every morning and choose to serve, to build, to teach, to heal, to protect. They do it when it’s hard. They do it when it’s thankless. They do it in the face of obstacles that would make most of us quit. And they do it not for glory, but because their character won’t let them do otherwise.

That’s the thread we’re following for the next 250 days. Not celebrities doing charity work for the photo op. Not politicians giving speeches about service. But real people, living real lives, making real differences—often without anyone noticing until you look closely.

Because that’s where you find the true measure of a nation: not in its monuments or its mission statements, but in the daily choices of ordinary people to do extraordinary things simply because their conscience demands it.

Day 250: Paul Rieckhoff

The Veteran Who Changed How America Serves Those Who Served

For our first profile in this countdown, we’re starting with someone who embodies the spirit of turning personal experience into national impact: Paul Rieckhoff.

If you don’t know his name, you’ve likely felt the ripple effects of his work. After serving as an Army First Lieutenant and infantry platoon leader in Iraq during the initial invasion in 2003, Rieckhoff came home and did something that would alter the landscape of veteran advocacy forever—he founded Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America (IAVA) in 2004.

Think about what that meant: a 29-year-old veteran, fresh from combat, deciding that the way America was treating its newest generation of warriors wasn’t good enough. Instead of just complaining about it or accepting it as the way things were, he built an organization from scratch that would become the voice for post-9/11 veterans.

The Adversity He Faced

This wasn’t easy. The early years of IAVA meant swimming against powerful currents—an administration that didn’t want to hear criticism of the war effort, a veteran establishment that wasn’t sure what to make of these young upstarts, a media landscape that had already moved on to other stories, and a public that was tired of hearing about Iraq and Afghanistan.

Rieckhoff could have taken the easier path. He could have quietly transitioned to civilian life, used his leadership experience and education to climb a corporate ladder somewhere, and left the fight to someone else. Nobody would have blamed him. He’d already served his country in combat.

But he kept pushing. Not for personal gain—nonprofit advocacy work isn’t exactly lucrative. Not for fame—though he’s become well-known in veteran circles, most Americans still wouldn’t recognize him on the street. He did it because it was the right thing to do, because his fellow veterans deserved better, and because someone had to stand in the gap.

Why This Matters

IAVA didn’t just become another advocacy group. Under Rieckhoff’s leadership, it became the leading voice for the more than 2.5 million veterans of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars. The organization was instrumental in passing the Post-9/11 GI Bill, which has provided education benefits to over one million veterans and family members. They helped push through critical legislation on veteran mental health, combating veteran suicide, and addressing toxic exposure from burn pits.

But here’s what makes Rieckhoff’s contribution particularly American: he didn’t wait for permission. He didn’t wait for the old guard to hand him a seat at the table. He built his own table and made it impossible to ignore.

His approach combines the discipline and directness of military service with the innovation and urgency of activism. He’s held both political parties accountable, refusing to let veteran issues become just another partisan talking point. That kind of independence—putting mission before politics—feels increasingly rare and increasingly necessary.

The Bigger Picture

What Rieckhoff represents is something deeply American: the citizen-soldier who comes home and continues to serve, just in a different uniform. The person who sees a gap between what is and what should be, then dedicates themselves to closing it. The leader who understands that real change requires both inside-the-system advocacy and outside-the-system pressure.

He didn’t do it for applause. He did it because when you’ve led soldiers in combat, you don’t stop caring about them when the deployment ends. He did it because the alternative—watching veterans struggle while he stayed silent—wasn’t an option his character would allow.

As we count down to America’s 250th birthday, Paul Rieckhoff reminds us that exceptionalism isn’t just about the battlefield heroism—though he has that. It’s about what you do with the platform that heroism provides. It’s about understanding that service doesn’t end when you take off the uniform. It’s about the particularly American notion that one person, with conviction and commitment, can move institutions and change outcomes for millions—especially when they’re driven by duty rather than recognition.

Twenty years ago, he was leading troops in combat. Today, he’s still leading—still fighting—just for a different mission: ensuring that America lives up to its promises to those who wore its uniform. Not because it’s easy. Not because it’s glamorous. But because it’s right.

That’s 1 down, 249 exceptional Americans to go. The countdown continues.

Nominate an Exceptional American

This isn’t just our project—it’s yours too.

We need your help finding the next 249 Americans to highlight. You know people we don’t. You see acts of everyday exceptionalism in your community, your workplace, your neighborhood that never make the news. You know the teacher who changed your life, the volunteer who rebuilt after the hurricane, the business owner who kept the doors open when everyone said to close, the nurse who held your hand, the coach who believed in the kid nobody else would.

Who do you know that does the right thing, especially when it’s hard?

We’re looking for living Americans who:

Face adversity with courage and persistence
Serve their communities without seeking recognition
Solve problems rather than just complaining about them
Do the right thing because their character demands it
Make a real difference in people’s lives, often quietly
Represent the best of what America can be

How to Nominate:

Tell us about your exceptional American. We want to know:

Who they are and where they’re making a difference
What they do that makes them exceptional
What adversity they face and why they keep going anyway
Why they do it—what drives them when quitting would be easier
How to reach them (if you have their contact information)

Send your nominations to: [Email/Website/Social Media Handle]

Use the hashtag #250for250 on social media to share their story.

The people who change America aren’t always the ones on magazine covers. They’re often the ones right next to you—doing the work, fighting the good fight, making tomorrow better than today. Help us find them. Help us celebrate them. Help us remind America what we’re capable of when character guides our choices.

Your neighbor could be Day 249. Your former teacher could be Day 167. Your colleague could be Day 89.

We have 249 days left to fill. Let’s make sure we tell the whole story—all fifty states, every background, every kind of service. From the inner city to the rural countryside. From the research lab to the assembly line. From the classroom to the firehouse.

America’s 250th birthday deserves a gift: the recognition of 250 Americans who are building the next 250 years.

Who will you nominate?

Who Are Today’s Nation-Builders?

Think about it: somewhere in America right now, a scientist is working late in a lab, getting closer to a breakthrough in cancer treatment—not for the Nobel Prize, but because someone’s grandmother is counting on it. A teacher is staying after school to tutor a struggling student who might become the next great engineer—not for extra pay (there isn’t any), but because she sees potential others have missed. An entrepreneur is taking a risk on an idea that could create thousands of jobs, knowing that nine out of ten startups fail. A volunteer firefighter is leaving dinner with their family to rush toward danger. A community organizer is knocking on doors in a neighborhood most people have written off.

These aren’t just feel-good stories. They’re the reality of a nation that, despite all its challenges and divisions, still produces an outsized share of the world’s innovation, creativity, and humanitarian contribution—not because Americans are inherently better than anyone else, but because enough of us keep choosing to do the hard right thing over the easy wrong thing.

The Quiet Revolution

Here’s what’s really remarkable: for every household name, there are thousands of Americans you’ve never heard of doing equally important work, often in the face of tremendous adversity.

There’s the agricultural scientist in Iowa developing drought-resistant crops while watching family farms disappear. The emergency room doctor in Detroit who treats everyone with dignity, despite a broken healthcare payment system. The coding instructor in rural Appalachia teaching kids skills that will let them compete globally, while fighting for reliable internet access. The wildland firefighter in California risking their life season after season, knowing another devastating fire season is coming. The civil rights attorney taking on cases that others won’t touch, despite the death threats and hate mail.

They don’t do it for recognition. They do it because when faced with a choice between comfort and conscience, they choose conscience. Every. Single. Time.

What Makes It American?

So what ties all these contributions together? What makes them particularly “American”?

Maybe it’s the optimism—the persistent belief that things can be better, even when evidence suggests otherwise. Maybe it’s the individualism mixed with community spirit—the drive to succeed personally while lifting others up. Maybe it’s the willingness to fail spectacularly in pursuit of something bigger, to try again when the first attempt doesn’t work out, to keep going when quitting would be easier.

Or maybe it’s something simpler: the freedom and opportunity to pursue your vision of what matters, combined with the stubborn refusal to let adversity dictate your choices. It’s doing the right thing not when it’s convenient, but especially when it’s hard.

Looking Ahead

As we count down these final 250 days to our nation’s 250th birthday, we’re committing to highlighting these everyday exceptional Americans. Not the celebrities. Not the usual suspects. But the people who wake up each day and choose service over self-interest, persistence over convenience, character over comfort.

The founders gave us the framework. Generations of Americans filled in the details, sometimes gloriously, sometimes painfully. Now it’s our turn. The question isn’t whether America has been exceptional in the past—historians can debate that endlessly. The question is whether we’re still producing people who do exceptional things for no other reason than it’s the right thing to do.

Each day from now until July 4th, 2026, we’ll highlight one exceptional living American who’s contributing to our nation’s story—not for fame or fortune, but because their character won’t let them do otherwise. Some you’ll recognize. Many you won’t. But all of them are proof that the American experiment continues, that the work of building a more perfect union never ends, and that 250 years in, there are still people willing to face adversity head-on simply because it’s right.

The countdown continues. 249 days and counting.

#250for250