I’m from the United States of Violence

Where we don’t just disagree with each other. We violently destroy each other.

Where any event can turn into a crime scene.
Where a college campus, a high school, even an elementary school, can become a war zone.
Where words are no longer enough for many people, so bullets take their place.

Today, Charlie Kirk was shot and killed while speaking at Utah Valley University.

I have never agreed with Charlie Kirk. I believe his politics have hurt this country, not healed it. I believe his words have divided, not united. I believe he has said deplorable things about women and spouted toxic rhetoric, like telling a young girl that the only reason women should attend college is to meet a husband.

And let's not forget the moment he said:

"I think it's worth it. I think it's worth to have a cost of, unfortunately, some gun deaths every single year so that we can have the Second Amendment to protect our other God-given rights."

I truly believe he was a harmful figure, one whose own words helped fuel the culture of violence we now face. But I will never celebrate his death. Because when we cross the line into violence, when we respond to rhetoric with murder, there is no coming back.

Violence does not care about ideology. It doesn’t care where you live. It doesn’t consider if you voted for Biden or Trump. It doesn’t pause to check party registration before it pulls the trigger. It leaves behind families shattered, communities shaken, and a country that grows more broken by the day.

We’ve now had over 46 school shootings this year. Forty-six. Let that sink in.
Our kids aren’t safe. Our teachers aren’t safe. Our communities aren’t safe. Nobody is safe.

We have built a country where guns are valued more than children, more than freedom, more than the simple right to stand up and speak without fear.
And it isn’t just Charlie Kirk. At the same time as Charlie Kirk’s murder, there was another school shooting that left 3 children in the hospital fighting for their lives. Their story may not make national headlines the way Kirk’s does, but it tells the same truth: America is drowning in violence.

Left. Right. Famous. Unknown. Violence doesn’t discriminate. It is everywhere, and it is constant.

And with gun violence, as with all violence, it multiplies.

I worry about what comes next.
Does Charlie Kirk become a martyr for the extreme right?
Does his death fuel the very extremism he championed in life?
Do we see the same kind of rallying that carried Trump after his shooting?

We know how quickly one act can shift the course of history. Hitler built an entire regime by exploiting moments like these, real or imagined. Authoritarians thrive on fear and chaos, and right now America is delivering both on a silver platter.

My biggest fear is that we are too far gone. That this constant drumbeat of gunfire, of mass shootings, of assassinations, of murders, of violent rhetoric, is the new normal. That we live in a country where nothing shocks us anymore. Where another school shooting barely makes the news cycle. Where another family wiped out in their home is just another headline in the endless scroll. Where the killing of a public figure sparks more talk about political advantage than about how to stop it from happening again.

That’s where we are.
And I don’t know if we’ll ever find our way back.

We are destroying ourselves here at home and destabilizing the world, with leadership that traffics in chaos, not competence. A president who provokes reckless rhetoric on Truth Social rather than providing steady, sober guidance.

Russia has intensified its aggression, emboldened by Trump’s weakness. Just yesterday, 19 Russian drones violated Polish airspace, an unprecedented breach. Poland responded with clarity and strength, shooting them down immediately. The nation then invoked Article 4 of NATO, calling for consultations, not war, but resolve. That is competence. That is leadership. That is a country saying: we will not permit aggression to go unanswered.

Meanwhile, what does our president do? He posts a cryptic question and a shrug:
“What’s with Russia violating Poland’s airspace with drones? Here we go!”
A half-day after the incursion. No condemnation. No coordination with NATO. Just a tone-deaf reaction, like someone more invested in drama than diplomacy. The leader of the free world, asking the internet what’s going on, and concluding with “Here we go!" as if bracing for a show, not forging strategy.

This isn’t just incompetence; it’s dangerous. While Poland and NATO signal unity and defense, the U.S. posture feels untethered and unserious. Every wavering statement from Trump sends a message: America’s resolve is shaky, and that emboldens Putin.

The world as a whole is in an increasingly dangerous period. A moment where we are watching how fragile alliances respond. Where Putin watches for cracks. Where Americans tune out nuance in favor of outrage. And every misstep, every flippant post, fractures the scaffold holding international stability and domestic sanity together.

And here at home? We are crumbling. Our democracy, our safety, our moral compass, all unraveling in real time. We have a president who has fanned the flames of division so fiercely that we no longer even blink at violence. We no longer grieve together. We no longer agree on the basic premise that guns should not outnumber children in classrooms.

We are not a country at peace. We are a country at war with ourselves.
Verbal violence. Physical violence. Political violence. School shootings. Murders. Assassinations.
This is anarchy, and it grows worse every day.

The truth is hard to face: we don’t care anymore. Not enough, anyway. We shake our heads. We send thoughts and prayers. We post our outrage online. And then we move on to the next tragedy, the next outrage, the next distraction. The horror has become so constant that it no longer feels like horror at all. It feels like background noise.

Children killed at school. That should have been the line. That should have been the moment where every single American stood up and said, “Enough.” But it wasn’t. Sandy Hook came and went. Uvalde came and went. Countless others came and went. Forty-six school shootings this year alone. And there is still no line we are unwilling to cross.

We used to stop everything when gun violence erupted. Now we just call it a normal Wednesday.

That’s what terrifies me. That there is no bottom. That every time we think we’ve reached the limit of what America can tolerate, we simply dig deeper and keep going.

We have lost our outrage. And with it, we are losing our country.

I don’t agree with Charlie Kirk. I think his words have harmed young people, fueled division, and poisoned our democracy. But violence is not the answer. Violence is never the answer. Because once we allow bullets to replace ballots, once we allow violence to become normalized, democracy is already gone.

And I fear that’s exactly what is happening.

So where does this leave us?
If Kirk becomes a martyr, the right will rally, and we will see extremism harden, not soften.
If his death sparks new gun reform advocates, that could be a glimmer of light in the darkness, but history tells me not to hold my breath.
If nothing changes, then we are left with only one conclusion: America has accepted violence as its new normal.

We are in dangerous territory now. The kind where dictators rise. The kind where fear becomes the currency of politics. The kind where the public grows so numb, so exhausted, so hopeless, that they stop fighting back altogether.

And already, conspiracy theorists are seizing the moment. Alex Jones and other right-wing extremists are calling this proof that war has been declared. Are they talking about civil war, about blood in the streets, about a nation divided beyond repair? Their words are gasoline on an already raging fire, framing violence not as tragedy but as destiny. And millions will listen. Millions will believe it. And millions may act on it.

That is what frightens me most. That we are not just watching violence unfold, we are watching it be weaponized, spun into propaganda, turned into the rallying cry for even more chaos.

That’s how democracy dies. Not with one big moment, but with a thousand small ones. With each shooting we shrug off. With each act of violence we normalize. With each leader who tells us to move on. With each conspiracy voice that whispers: war is here, and you must choose a side.

I am more worried tonight than I was yesterday.
Worried not just about what happened, but about what happens next.
Because if we cannot say, without hesitation, that violence is wrong no matter the target, then the American experiment is already lost.

We deserve leaders who can protect children before guns, voices before bullets, democracy before chaos.
We deserve a country where disagreement does not equal death.
Where the Second Amendment is not used as an excuse for a culture of mass graves.
Where parents send their children to school thinking about homework, not hiding places.
Where public debate ends in ballots, not body bags.

And here’s the hardest truth of all: no one is coming to save us.
If we fail to stop it, the violence becomes permanent.

Not the politicians who cash checks from the gun lobby while offering us empty “thoughts and prayers.”
Not the media executives who treat massacres like ratings spikes and then move on to the next distraction.
Not the extremists who cheer violence when it happens to their enemies, and excuse it when it happens in their ranks.

That is the choice before us.
To live in a country ruled by violence, or to build one where life is valued more than death.

Because if we don’t stop it, no one will.
And I refuse to believe that America’s story ends with violence being stronger than us.

I’ll see you tomorrow,
Heather