The Day Fear Took Root
The day after Trump was elected, I felt something I never thought I’d feel toward a president of my own country: fear. I went out for a run that morning, trying to clear my head, but every step carried the same thought — how dangerous a man like him could be. I found myself drafting an open letter in my head, begging him to prove us wrong. To show my daughters that women were worthy of respect. To show my sons that cruelty isn’t strength. Instead, I realized I would have to tell my children something unthinkable: do not look up to the President of the United States. That was the moment I knew this wouldn’t just be a single election cycle we’d have to endure — it would be years of division, anger, and a steady unraveling of our humanity.
Division at the Top, Silence Below
Leadership sets the tone. And right now, the tone is division.
I think back to the Arizona memorial where Ericka Kirk stood in her grief and spoke of forgiveness, reminding us of the importance of protecting free speech — the very principle her husband had lived by. It was a moment that could have united us, a message meant to heal. And what did Trump do? He brushed it off with a smirk, essentially saying, “Sorry, Erika, but I hate my opponents.” The blatant disrespect in that moment was dumbfounding. Worse than his words were the claps that followed.
That’s the problem. The hate is bad enough, but the silence of those who could speak out — the leaders who should know better — is deafening. They have a chance to stand up, to hold him accountable, and they choose not to. Since when did calling out hate become weakness? Since when did we decide that accountability could just fall by the wayside?
When Friends Become Strangers
This divide hasn’t just stayed in politics. It’s seeped into friendships and families. I’ve had to reconcile who I thought people were with what they chose to support. After the insurrection, after the endless lies, after the blatant disrespect of democracy — if you still voted for Trump, then that speaks volumes. It tells me you weren’t being honest about your values all along. That rupture is painful. It changes how I see people I once respected.
What Leadership Should Look Like
But I don’t want to only talk about failure. I want to talk about what true leadership should look like.
James Talarico is one example. Raised in faith but leading with empathy, he reminds us that politics doesn’t have to mean cruelty. He doesn’t flip-flop for donors. He speaks with conviction, with a heart that includes everyone at the table.
And then there’s Pete Buttigieg — someone who embodies what it means to be informed, prepared, and respectful. He doesn’t scream to be heard; he leads with knowledge and calm authority. That’s the kind of leadership I want my kids to look up to. Leaders who live by the idea that “My opponent is not my enemy.” Imagine what could change if we embraced that principle. Leaders listening instead of blaming. Leaders disagreeing with respect instead of shouting each other down. That’s the example we deserve.
The Fight for Free Speech and Decency
Our country was built on the foundation of free speech, yet here we are — in 2025 — needing legislation like the NOPE Act (No Political Enemies Act) just to protect what should already be guaranteed. The bill was introduced by Senator Chris Murphy (D-CT) and Representative Jason Crow (D-CO), backed by several Democratic colleagues in both chambers.
The NOPE Act is designed to stop the federal government from weaponizing its power against people or organizations simply for their views or speech. It would explicitly prohibit agencies like the DOJ, FBI, or IRS from using investigations, regulatory actions, or federal funds to target individuals, nonprofits, media outlets, faith groups, or schools for speech that is already protected under the First Amendment. It also includes provisions to help those targeted fight back — giving them access to evidence, recourse in court, and even coverage of certain legal costs.
Murphy argued the bill is necessary because we’ve seen this administration toy with the idea of punishing dissent, from threatening political opponents to real incidents like the suspension of Jimmy Kimmel Live! on some ABC affiliates after he criticized conservatives in a monologue about Charlie Kirk’s death (News12 Connecticut). In other words: speech critical of those in power is being treated as a crime rather than a cornerstone of democracy.
This bill shouldn’t have to exist — but it does, because the very concept of free speech is under attack from the top. When leaders decide whose voices matter and whose don’t, every American should be terrified, no matter their political beliefs.
A Call for Conversations
So where do we go from here? For me, it starts with hard conversations. We can’t keep hiding behind silence or pretending that hate is just “politics as usual.” We need to look each other in the eye and say: enough. Enough division, enough cruelty, enough disrespect.
I want human decency back. I want people to argue passionately and still respect one another’s humanity. I want disagreement without dehumanization. That’s not weakness — that’s strength. That’s the only way we move forward.
I am angry. I am tired. I am deeply disappointed. But I am also unwilling to give up. Because this country is bigger than one man, bigger than one administration, bigger than the hate that has been unleashed.
The future of this country will be decided by whether we stay silent or whether we stand together. We don’t have to agree on everything, but we damn well need to agree that hate cannot lead us.
It’s time to have the conversations we’ve been avoiding. To demand accountability. To insist on leaders who see unity as power, not weakness.
Because if we don’t — if we let the loudest voice of hate set the tone — then we are complicit in the unraveling of the very country we claim to love.
And I refuse to stay silent.
