We Confront Public Grief, Online Backlash, And Teaching Teens To Stand Firm
When Grief Goes Public
Grief arrives loud in public and quiet at home. This conversation began with a killing that shook our feeds and our kids. It forced a hard question: how do you speak freely and stay humane?
The first punch in any conflict ends conversation. We know that feeling. We have lived with gunfire close enough to smell the smoke and wipe dust off walls. Maybe that is why the online noise hits deep. People debate victims as if they are teams, not humans. When compassion becomes a trigger for outrage, something larger is broken. Words, not fists, are supposed to keep communities alive. Now words come with a strange cost.
The Price of Speaking Up
We saw that cost fast. Posting a simple condolence—no slogans, no blame—led to hundreds of unfollows and messages telling us which grief we were allowed to name.
The call to “use your platform” often hides a demand: speak, but only in the approved direction. We pushed back. Loss is loss. Ranking pain for online points empties empathy of meaning. If someone leaves because compassion offends them, that exit speaks louder than any post.
Still, we understand the pull. People crave moral clarity. They fear being wrong. The work is to hold two truths at once. Public tragedy and private sorrow can coexist. Mature people can sit in that tension without running from it.
What Violence Really Leaves Behind
Free speech is not abstract for us. We grew up where silence turns violent.
One night after homecoming, gunfire tore through the dark. Nine shots. A friend survived. Another friend’s brother did not. The next day, we counted bullet holes through drywall and refrigerator metal. Blood on blinds that never came clean.
That is what violence does. It lingers. It stains places long after the police leave. So when voices are silenced for using words instead of weapons, we feel that line being crossed. Debate is supposed to release pressure. Shut it down, and pressure explodes somewhere else.
Parenting in a Tense World
Parenting now means raising kids who are both brave and careful. We tell our sons to stand tall, to think before reacting, to argue calmly, and to come home safe.
Oddly, the internet helped. Our teens found a voice that pushed them toward faith and thought. They downloaded a Bible app. They asked real questions. They learned that conviction and kindness can live together. That kind of influence matters more than likes or hashtags because it shapes habits, not headlines.
Holding Space for Nuance
We sit a little right of center and a lot in favor of nuance. We love country, family, and God. We also believe in growth and in changing your mind when truth demands it.
The problem online is not disagreement; it is performance. Too many debate to win, not to understand. We want something better—a table where strong views meet open minds. Where disagreement does not require disdain.
If people refuse to listen, the only tool left is force. And force never holds peace for long. Our ask is simple. Let grief be human, not partisan. Let speech be strong, not cruel. Let kids watch adults who can argue, learn, and still respect each other.
Choosing Repair Over Revenge
We ended where we began—with grief, and with choice. We can chase revenge or repair. We can mute each other or grow thicker skin and softer hearts.
We choose to stay real, even if it costs followers. We choose to teach our kids that courage includes restraint. And we choose to keep talking, because silence is the start of history we do not want to repeat.
Words are hard. Silence is harder. Pick hard, but pick the one that keeps the hallway clean.
