Standing Up To Political Terrorism

I was out of town for four days tending to my Mom’s service and memory. It was a beautiful weekend as we celebrated her life. I saw family members I hadn’t seen for 25 years. We cried, we laughed, we ignored our cell phones for hours at a time. It was, honestly, the best time I’ve had in a long time. Mom would be happy.
I say it was beautiful, but beautiful things weren’t happening while I was traveling, seeking a break, seeking a reprieve from the 24/7 news cycle.
In the span of minutes, a shooter opened fire in Evergreen High School while in Utah, Charlie Kirk was assassinated by sniper’s single bullet.
It seems odd that I have to say this, but, yes, obviously:
I am opposed to violence outside the rink.
I am opposed to gun violence.
I am opposed to violence against Jews.

I am opposed to violence against Muslims.
I am opposed to genocide against any group.
I am opposed to violence against right wing social media influencers.
I am opposed to violence against students seeking an education.
Somehow, this exercise seems trite, doesn’t it? I mean, a couple of young men are dead here. I don’t want to sound insincere – I am very sincere, I take this political terrorism very seriously.
Let’s take it a step further. Let’s work in collaboration to make life better for everyone.

Here are a few suggestions:

• Name the violence for what it is. When an individual or group uses intimidation, murder, or threats to advance a political or ideological cause, that is terrorism. We cannot excuse it or downplay it depending on who the victims are or what cause the perpetrator claims to serve.
• Put life above faction. No disagreement—over religion, politics, race, or identity—ever justifies the murder of neighbors, students, or public figures. If we can’t agree on that bedrock principle, then the rest of our democracy will crumble.
• Invest in prevention, not just reaction. This means supporting schools, mental health systems, gun safety laws, and law enforcement tools that focus on stopping violence before it erupts rather than politicizing tragedy after the fact.
• Reject political profit from fear. Politicians who turn every act of violence into a talking point for donations or division are part of the problem. Leaders have a duty to calm, not inflame.
• Strengthen community ties. The bonds I felt at my mother’s memorial—the laughter, the hugs, the shared stories—are what make life worth defending. Terrorism thrives in isolation and alienation; it suffocates when people are connected, engaged, and looked after.

We can disagree on policy. We will disagree on policy. We must disagree on policy. But we must not disagree on this: every child, every parent, every teacher, every neighbor deserves to live free from the threat of sudden political terrorism or gun violence.

If we can summon the courage to recognize that truth together, maybe—just maybe—we can start building something stronger than the hate that keeps tearing us apart.