Today, I am horrified. I am horrified by the state of my country and by the polarization of its people. There is a cavern that has grown between neighbors on the Left and Right while America hangs in the center, battered and bruised as it splinters into factions. Politics has become a matter of morality, with debates devolving into fights, sparring matches replacing controversial conversations. All the while, people suffer—stuck in the middle, tossed from side to side as rhetoric runs rampant.
Today, I am heartbroken. My heart breaks for the families torn apart by immigration laws, for the people left unable to afford groceries or medical care, and mostly for the very soul of the nation that has long been a worldwide beacon for democracy. The nation that was founded on freedoms that were otherwise denied worldwide.
Today, I grieve. I grieve the nation that I was raised to love, with fireworks and frills on table doilies that decorated the tables in my elementary school classroom on each national holiday. The nation that protected me from the world beyond, which was portrayed as an abyss, lacking freedom and democracy. Meanwhile, my nation removes the mention of transgender and intersex people from government websites (NBC News), scrubbing a long history of struggle, forcing many in the fight for equity back to square one: erasure, oppression, and another fight ahead.
Today, I feel helpless. I cannot vote. I do not control who leads my country. I am a 17-year-old spiraling amid the polarization cleaving my country into factions—stuck between two screaming sides as one cries for humanity and the other for a future of devolving democracy. I can cry and shout, write and read everything available to me, but I feel obsolete. It is as though my opinion, my voice, is deafened in the cacophony of cataclysmic presidential addresses and executive orders.
Today, I listen. I listen to those who know more than I do. To my political theory professor who told me that I am too young to be so pessimistic—to fear for the future of my country so deeply—yet, in a room of over two dozen, I was the only one to raise my hand when asked if we had hope for the future of America. I was surprised when my hand raised, acting independently of the weight that has settled to drag my shoulders down as I plan a future in politics. I listen to the politicians who worry about what tomorrow may hold. Perhaps it will be better, but it’s likely to be worse.
Today, I hope. I hope that tomorrow will be better, that the freedoms fought for so long ago can hold on a little longer despite the legal shredding of them. I hope that queer youth growing up in a world with fingers pointed at them know that they are loved. I hope that transgender kids can look in the mirror and know, deep in their soul, that they are not wrong for who they are. I hope that every youth and young adult has the empathy to build a better tomorrow than the one that the generations before have left for us. I hope for justice for the American people, as we have been so wronged under this administration by violent speech and rhetoric, unconstitutional executive orders, and an interruption in our daily lives as we face the polarization that plagues us.
Today, I choose to fight. I choose a future of fighting for the soul of the country I have grown to love so deeply. I choose to write this, not from a place of hatred, but a plea, an outcry for the loss that I carry heavily on my heart. I will study, write, plead, and shout for the people in America. I love my country for its democracy, for the freedoms I am so grateful for, but I am disappointed in who we are becoming. I choose to spend my life fighting for those whom I disagree with, those who hate me for my queerness, and those who love me because of who I choose to be.
Today, I ask. I ask those who read this to choose to make tomorrow better. I ask that we fight tooth and nail, clawing our way back to the democracy and freedoms that make America who she is meant to be: a loving country built on the ideals of freedom that allow her citizens to choose who they want to be.
If you’re not scared, you’re not paying attention. If you’re paying attention, it’s time to hope. If you hope for a better tomorrow, then today is the day to act.
Michael Wilson • Oct 28, 2025 at 11:44 pm
You never stop amazing me. Your genuine creative complex thoughts put into words makes us all think about what should be important and meaningful. It is sad how our president, an entire political party, and an enabling Supreme Court is now tears apart our country and our lives when they should be working to find a middle ground and bring us together. Thank you for making us think.
leah griffin • Oct 24, 2025 at 11:57 am
this is soooo good nova omg