The Dreamer's Pen

The United States is in big trouble. I see it more clearly every day, and I can’t stay quiet about it anymore.

Growing up, I thought being a hardcore right-wing, red-blooded conservative was the only path. I didn’t understand my mom’s feminism. If anything, I rejected it. I thought that strength meant aligning with a particular ideology and that self-reliance and personal responsibility were all that mattered. But losing my mom changed everything. It forced me to confront who I really am, beyond politics, beyond labels.

And the truth is, I am not a hardcore conservative. I am me.

Today, I care deeply about the rights of women, children, the disabled, the elderly, BIPOC, the LGBTQIA+ community, and veterans. These aren’t just political talking points to me. These are real people, our friends, our families, our neighbors. Their rights, dignity, and safety matter.

I see the pain firsthand at work. Students in domestic violence situations, scared and uncertain about their future. Hungry students working multiple jobs, doing their best, yet still relying on food stamps to get by. Elderly individuals on fixed incomes struggling to afford basic necessities. These aren’t isolated incidents, they are everyday realities for far too many people.

For years, I believed that “handouts” were bad. That people just needed to work harder. But I was wrong. People are working hard. The system is failing them. Help—whether it’s food assistance, financial aid, or community support—is not a weakness. It’s basic human decency.

Women’s rights are under attack. Bodily autonomy is being stripped away, and reproductive healthcare is being treated as a privilege rather than a right. Children are being used as political pawns, while real issues like education, healthcare, and gun violence go unaddressed. The disabled and elderly are often forgotten, left to navigate a system that makes survival harder, not easier. BIPOC communities continue to face systemic barriers that many refuse to even acknowledge. LGBTQIA+ individuals are being targeted and legislated against simply for existing. And veterans—the very people who served this country, are frequently left behind, struggling with inadequate healthcare, homelessness, and mental health crises.

How can we say we care about America when we fail to care for Americans?

I’m done trying to fit into a political box. I don’t care what label anyone gives me. What matters to me is people. I care about fairness, justice, and ensuring that everyone—regardless of gender, race, ability, sexuality, or background—has the right to live with dignity and freedom.

My mom knew this. She fought for it. And now, I understand why.

It’s time to wake up. We are in big trouble, and pretending otherwise won’t change reality. If you think I’ve “changed,” you’re right. I’ve grown. And I’m not afraid to say it.