“If this is what is happening to me, an American citizen, on camera…imagine what’s happening to your loved ones when no one is watching”
Mubashir is only 20 years old yet he’s showing incredible bravery & courage.
He’s right. If this is what happens on camera, no one is safe
The Nuremberg Trials established that "just following orders" is not a defense for members of the military breaking the law and committing atrocities.
The military has a legal and moral duty to disobey unlawful orders.
Trump mocked a disabled reporter, and everyone ignored it
He said “grab ‘em by the p*ssy”, and everyone ignored it
He called a female journalist a “piggy”& they’re ignoring it
He’s mentioned over 1500 times in the latest Epstein documents & folks ignore it.
What will it take?
Remember, the Holocaust didn’t start with gas chambers in Auschwitz.
It started with politicians dividing the people with “us vs. them”.
It started with intolerance and hate speech.
It started when people stopped caring, became desensitized, and turned a blind eye.
Remember.
A message from a Kindergarten teacher:
After forty years in the classroom, my career ended with one small sentence from a six-year-old:
“My dad says people like you don’t matter anymore.”
No sneer. No malice. Just quiet honesty — the kind that cuts deeper because it’s innocent. He blinked, then added, “You don’t even have a TikTok.”
My name is Mrs. Clara Holt, and for four decades, I taught kindergarten in a small Denver suburb. Today, I stacked the last box on my desk and locked the door behind me.
When I started teaching in the early 1980s, it felt like a promise — a shared belief that what we did mattered. We weren’t rich, but we were valued. Parents brought warm cookies to parent nights. Kids gave you handmade cards with hearts that didn’t quite line up. Watching a child sound out their first sentence felt like magic.
But that world slowly slipped away. The job I once knew has been replaced by exhaustion, red tape, and a kind of loneliness I can’t quite describe.
My evenings used to be filled with construction paper, glitter, and glue sticks. Now they’re spent filling out digital reports to protect myself from angry emails or lawsuits. I’ve been yelled at by parents in front of twenty-five children — one filming me with his phone while I tried to calm another child mid-meltdown.
And the kids… they’ve changed too. Not by choice.
They arrive tired, anxious, overstimulated. Their tiny fingers know how to swipe a screen before they can hold a crayon. Some can’t make eye contact or wait in line. We’re expected to fix all of it — to patch the gaps, heal the trauma, teach the curriculum, and document every move — in six hours a day, with resources that barely fill a drawer.
The little reading corner I once built, full of soft beanbags and paper stars, was replaced by data charts and “learning metrics.” A young principal once told me, “Clara, maybe you’re too nurturing. The district wants measurable results.”
As if kindness were a weakness.
Still, I stayed. Because of the small, holy moments that no spreadsheet could measure —
a whisper of, “You remind me of my grandma.”
a shaky note that read, “I feel safe here.”
a quiet boy finally meeting my eyes and saying, “I read the whole page.”
Those tiny sparks were my reason to keep showing up.
But this last year broke something in me.
The aggression grew sharper. The laughter in the staff room turned to silence. The light went out of so many eyes. I watched brilliant teachers — my friends — vanish under the weight of burnout, their joy replaced by survival.
I felt myself fading too, like chalk on a board that’s been wiped one too many times.
So today, I began my goodbye. I pulled faded art off the walls and tucked thirty years of handmade cards into a single box. In the back of a drawer, I found a letter from a student from 1998:
“Thank you for loving me when I was hard to love.”
I sat on the floor and cried.
No party. No applause. Just a handshake from a young principal who called me “Ma’am” while checking his notifications.
I left my rocking chair behind, and my sticker box too. What I carried with me were the memories — the faces of hundreds of children who once trusted me enough to reach out their hands and learn. That can’t be uploaded. It can’t be measured. It can’t be replaced.
I miss when teachers were partners, not targets. When parents and educators worked side by side, not in opposition. When schools cared more about wonder than numbers.
So if you know a teacher — any teacher — thank them. Not with a mug or a gift card, but with your words. With your respect. With your understanding that behind every test score is a heart that cared enough to try.
Because in a world that often overlooks them, teachers are the ones who never forget our children.
When a man thinks a fetus grows in a placenta, it’s time to understand that this male non-doctor shouldn’t be making healthcare decisions for *anybody*.
Everyone is getting this Jimmy Kimmel thing wrong.
A) It's not cancel culture when it comes from the government. It is censorship and state repression, just like in traditional authoritarian regimes.
B) Kimmel wasn't taken off the air for crotizing Kirk. He was taken off for criticizing Trump's lack of concern for Kirk. It was a criticism of the government. This has nothing to do with "cancel culture" and everything to do with freedom of speech.
Don't let them gaslight you into thinking this is a minor chapter in the culture wars. This is so much more.
Orlando recolors the Pulse Memorial Sidewalk Rainbow after DeSantis paved over it. We are Orlando Strong and no one can ever erase the LGBTQIA+ Community 🏳️⚧️🏳️🌈
Since Election Day, the 4 wealthiest men in the world (Elon Musk, Larry Ellison, Mark Zuckerberg & Jeff Bezos) have become $248 billion richer and are now worth $1.211 trillion.
The $7.25 federal minimum wage hasn’t gone up in 16 years.
Yes. That’s what oligarchy looks like.