America is Losing Its Soul in Brown-Skinned Screams and White-Skinned Silence

America is dying.

I’m not referring to the systemic collapse of our Republic or the slow suffocation of Democracy here, though these are certainly not unlikely outcomes at this point.

This is far deeper than the seats of power or a congressional alignment, more than the structural implosion of this nation.

The greatest, most grievous failure of America in this moment isn’t legislative but moral.

The soul of this place is dying in screams and silences.

The brown-skinned screams rise from our collective home:

The anguished cries of a young mother being violently torn from her children in the carpool line.

The guttural howl of a farm worker choking on tear gas as his face is driven into the earth he had been faithfully tending.

The desperate, terrified wails of a baby left orphaned in a grocery store parking lot as his shellshocked abuela is tossed into an unmarked van.

The frantic pleas of a father of four dragged from his worksite by lawless masked mercenaries.

The weary moans of devoted fathers, loving husbands, and beloved uncles shackled in a stifling Florida death camp.

The unheeded shrieks of neighbors watching a pillar of the community kidnapped from his lonchera.

This horrific noise is the soundtrack of waking nightmares; the raw-throated echoing of the vilest of history repeating. They are sounds that shake decent human beings to their core.

But those screams are only half of this tragedy.

Equally devastating is the white-skinned silence; the contagious moral laryngitis breaking out in people of profound privilege who avert their eyes and cover their ears.

It is the breathtaking quiet of human beings who have retreated into the cloistered places of temporary comfort and imagined safety; those who quickly scroll away from the videos because they do not want to hear the screams, because that would leave them culpable for their inaction and their stilled voices.

White America, we need to lean into the screams of brown-skinned people, to invite them inside, to let them break our hearts and boil our blood, until the fury within us rises and erupts in a fierce and sustained roar that violently disrupts the inhumanity that will not stop unless we make it stop.

Friends, what exactly are you waiting for?
How much suffering do you need to see?
What terrible sounds will finally awaken your voices?
What line still needs to be crossed for you to declare it unacceptable?

What good is it if we claim morality or conscience, if these result in us saying nothing while our neighbors are brutalized?

How real is our professed faith if it yields no measurable opposition to the greatest violations of human life?

How much is your patriotism worth if the disregard for the elemental liberties of this nation leaves you speechless?

Your silence won’t save you, anyway; it will only postpone your suffering as you abdicate the elemental parts of your humanity during the interim. That is a coward’s path and one I refuse to take.

The only way we can endure as a nation is if we all find the courage to speak with clarity, if we allow ourselves to be heard here and now.

The cost of using your voice is nothing compared to the price of your silence.

Let your life say something before it’s too late.