The Question

The sound of the shofar echoes.

The steady beat of African drums resounds.

The raids of Stonewall rise again.

The confinement of internment camps echoes in memory.

And the strange fruit still hangs upon the southern trees of hatred surrounding the horrifying spectacle of Minnesota.

The arrogance of the Confederacy, the cruelty of the Gestapo, the religious justifications that mask moral cowardice— this is the lineage of denial.

It is the same empire that lied about Vietnam, the same hands that silenced freedom with FBI wiretaps.

Now it demands that we do not see what we can no longer unsee. Theatrics from podiums cannot conceal the lies being told about Minnesota.

Martyrs branded as criminals.

Marchers called rioters.

State‑sponsored terror draped in the garments of law.

People of faith, rising for justice, dismissed by false prophets who lust for power more than truth.

These are the images we are told to forget— but memory will not obey. This is our Zeitgeist, a pivotal hour, a gut‑check for democracy— the death rattle or birth cry of a nation turning toward its 250th year.

Who are we?

What shall we become?

Are we worthy of our freedoms, or will we once again bow to tyranny and terror?Will we claim exceptionalism by refusing the seduction of hatred, by standing unbowed before fear, by defying the myth that the state always knows best?

Now is the moment to assert that the dignity of democracy endures— that fear cannot suspend the rule of law, that faith is not conformity to power, and that protest remains a sacred, nonviolent vessel of change.

Not in the burning heat of Alabama, but in the frozen streets of Minnesota, America is again answering the question: Who are we— and who will we yet dare to be?