Can We Mourn Without Picking a Side?
The death of Charlie Kirk should grieve all of us. But too many are more loyal to their politics than to their principles.
When I first heard that Charlie Kirk had been shot, I hoped with intensity that he would survive. When I learned it was a gunshot to the neck, my chest tightened.
And still, when the news broke that he had succumbed to his injury, I was horrified. I audibly gasped, hand covering my mouth, while standing at a sporting event for my kids. My hands shook as I texted my sister in disbelief.
Like many of us, I have a lot of feelings right now. But mostly, I’m troubled by how we respond to tragedy.
We All Want Someone to Blame
As I scrolled through social media, one thing stood out: everyone wanted someone to blame. And honestly? I understand.
But before we react, we must first turn down the temperature.
My plea is simple: stop dividing people into camps of “right” and “left.” These boxes are a mirage, and I refuse to be imprisoned by either one. I’ve been called a “liberal” and a “leftist,” but I see myself simply as someone who cares deeply about honesty, empathy, truth, human rights, and integrity.
If that earns me a label, fine. But if those values are considered partisan, what does that say about the values of those pointing fingers?
Where Was This Energy Before?
If we met one another with honesty and empathy, instead of just trying to prove a point, maybe we wouldn’t be here.
What happened to denouncing horror, period?
I saw many people rightly condemn Charlie Kirk’s assassination. But what shocked me was how many of those same people had been silent after similar political violence, including the brutal murder of Minnesota lawmaker and Speaker Emerita Melissa Hortman and her husband, Mark, just three months ago.
When I brought up that tragedy online, I was told, “All I saw was outrage and support for them.” But I remember otherwise. I remember people speculating that the couple were drug dealers. That they were targeted because of “woke politics” or imagined ties to BLM — none of which turned out to be true. The cruelty was there. It just wasn’t surprising to anyone at the time.
And I can’t ignore the stark contrast in how leaders responded.
After Melissa Hortman and her husband were murdered in their home, Minnesota honored her with a state funeral, but on the national stage there was little attention. I could find no record of President Trump attending the funeral, lowering flags to half-mast, or calling Governor Tim Walz to offer condolences. If he made a statement at all, it was not widely visible.
But after Charlie Kirk’s death, even though the killer has not yet been identified, Trump immediately blamed Democrats and announced he would fly Kirk’s body to Washington, D.C., where he plans to posthumously award him the Presidential Medal of Freedom.
I’m not saying one life mattered more than the other. It didn’t. I’m saying this: if we only know how to grieve when it benefits our politics or platform, that’s not empathy. It’s exploitation.
This isn’t about “both sides do it.” It’s about asking: Why do we only seem to care when a tragedy confirms our bias or threatens our tribe? Why are we surprised by cruelty when it hits our side, but numb to it when it hits someone else’s?
So I ask — with genuine curiosity:
Why was this the first time you posted about something like this?
Why didn’t you speak out when Melissa Hortman and her husband were murdered in their home?
Was it because they weren’t on your “side”?
Was it because you didn’t agree with their politics?
Was it easier to stay silent than risk ruffling feathers with your family or friends?
Or was it because the leader you admire didn’t say anything either?
I saw real outrage over some of the comments made after Kirk’s death, and I agree that many were cruel, inappropriate, and completely unnecessary.
But I have to say: this kind of cruelty appears after every major tragedy.
If you’re only noticing it now, maybe it’s because you’re in a deep echo chamber.
Or worse — maybe you only care when it threatens your worldview.
I pray we never face another tragedy like this. But if we do, I hope those who are outraged now will show the same compassion and horror, even if the victims don’t share their politics.
Call Out the Problem — Not Just the Side
I’m not saying everyone needs to post after every tragedy. But selective outrage helps no one.
What if instead of defending “your side,” we just called out the issue?
“No more gun violence.”
“No more political assassinations.”
“No more children killed in schools.”
Those are statements we should all be able to get behind.
Silence Becomes Complicity
I’ve never once seen my conservative friends or family publicly call out Trump for his cruel, unhinged rhetoric. Why? Either they’re afraid to speak up, or they agree with him.
I understand the fear of losing relationships — I’ve lost some myself. But at some point, silence becomes complicity. Choosing comfort over truth may feel safe. But it gives cruelty more room to grow.
Meanwhile, Trump has already blamed Democrats for Kirk’s death, and the killer hasn’t even been identified.
Tell me: is that message unifying or divisive? And more importantly, does it make our political climate safer, or more dangerous?
If we were sitting face to face, and I asked you what you would look for in a leader after a horrific event, what would your answer be?
We Are the Only Ones Who Can Fix This
Politicians won’t save us. Parties won’t save us. We have to save us.
Can’t we agree, without caveats or deflections, that no one should be murdered in cold blood? That truth still matters? That children shouldn’t have to fear for their lives at school?
Choose Courage Over Comfort
Living in a red, rural area, I see tribalism everywhere. People stay silent so they can fit in. They don’t want to be “too opinionated,” especially with family or friends.
If the politician you follow thrives on hate and division, unfollow them. Better yet, call or write them and tell them their behavior is unacceptable.
If someone on social media consistently dehumanizes others, stop giving them your attention.
Read a balanced diet of credible news sources — especially some that challenge your beliefs.
Don’t bend reality to fit your beliefs. Seek out credible facts first, and let your opinions grow from there.
Because in the end, the people sowing hatred and division only have power when we give it to them.
As we wait for more information, we need to be prepared for the inevitable spin.
Once the killer is in custody, the headlines will shift, and the political blame will begin.
If the perpetrator is identified as a Republican, Democrats will sound the alarm about extremism.
If the perpetrator is identified as a Democrat, Republicans will do the same.
But here's the truth: we should not be painting with a broad brush.
This kind of violence is horrifying. Period.
And no matter who committed it, we should be able to say:
This was wrong. This does not represent everyone. And we refuse to let grief become another excuse for hate.
If we can come together, we can help cool the current political tension. Who knows—by calming the rhetoric, we may be able to stop the next horrible event before it happens.
I don’t come to you as an expert. I come to you as someone with faults, biases, and a long way to go.
But at least I’m trying.
Are you?
Hard Truths, Honest Heart is my commitment to speak up — even when it feels scary — so my kids can one day say I chose honesty over silence. Through essays on civics, history, and personal truth, I’m building a record of courage and clarity, showing that integrity matters more than comfort. This isn’t just about politics or personal stories; it’s about leaving a legacy my children can be proud of.
Beautifully expressed and I echo your sentiments. I took have a very conservative family that cannot see the hypocrisy. I do not think people see the bigger more troubling issue where radicalization has brought us and the who/why. It is bigger than Trump and Maga. Good writing 🙌