To Sir With Love

At a news conference announcing the indictment of Luigi Mangione, NYPD Commissioner Jessica Tisch displayed outrage at those cheering the CEO’s killer, labeling their actions "shocking and appalling."

I couldn’t agree more.

It was also shocking and appalling when our President-elect boasted, "I could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody, and I wouldn't lose any voters.” But no one from NYPD held a press conference to condemn his statement. And while news media talking heads laughed it off as a joke, fans idolized their leader all the more. To them, he was now a kindred spirit who also held dark thoughts.

Since that infamous statement went viral nearly 9 years ago, school shootings skyrocketed to 1709 nationally, up from a total of 288 during the preceding 9 years.

On Monday, Natalie “Samantha” Rupnow added to the list when she killed a teacher at the Abundant Life Christian School and shot several others before taking her own life. The substitute teacher who died had agreed to come in and supervise a study hall.

In many ways, I feel the America I loved lies dead among those dearly departed.

It’s not because of immigrants “invading our country” or Hunter Biden hiding a gun. Or because of DEI or wokeism. And, surely, not because of an increasing transgender population or one of “worthless cat ladies”.

What I see standing at the center of this loss is a Frankensteinian population that applauds killers, glorifies violent insurrectionists, and gleefully votes for known criminals. What I also see are soulless leaders, dead to the suffering of victims’ families, and braindead as to how to fix things.

If any vestige of the America I loved remains alive, it’s comatose. Those who once waved her flag, are now waving Trump flags exclusively—as if he were a utopian nation. Under their flag and their Supreme Court, their leader is now above the law. What we called a “land of opportunity” is now a land of opportunists groveling at one man’s feet.

Truthfully, all I can see is an America in a state of suicide, and Monday’s shooter was just another symbol of this reality.

Cheering Mangione reflects not only a very drugged up America, but one that’s bloodthirsty to its core—one that’s detached from its highest self and impiously dismissive of democratic principles and protections.

Our nation’s death wish includes a palpable hunger for vengeance, which is also why Donald Trump was reelected. After all, it was he, not Biden or Harris, who promised to mete out appropriate retribution to all those evildoers who supposedly made American less than great. He is still making those ugly threats to fire up his crowds, and has now embarked on a suing spree to put certain enemies in their place. This is the definition of being un-American—but so is giving a cold-blooded killer a standing ovation. The new America is good with this.

So what must we do? Do we continue to binge on our favorite entertainment and social media apps and hope the new administration will resuscitate our hobbled ship of state?

Considering how the election left many feeling weary to the bone, binging and hoping may be the most we can expect. People I speak with don’t know what to do. Most feel scared and hopeless. Others voted and got their way. Either way, most people feel they’ve done their bit and they’re done. I get it.

But if you want to do something, anything, here’s what’s always struck fear in the heart of every do-nothing politician: public scorn.

Elected officials hate an unhappy crowd because it is popularity that keeps them in office. Our President-elect is no different. Cheering crowds are the only thing that has ever put a smile on his face. He craves adulation, valuing it far more than the confines of the dingy oval office. He also makes no secret of wanting to go down in history as the most beloved and greatest President in human history. I mean, who wouldn’t want the glow of a Nobel Prize instead of the taint of a jail cell?

So how can we make his needs work to our advantage and his?

In politics and in business, one letter of complaint from a voter or consumer is counted as 70 letters. If tens of millions of Americans sat down and wrote a handwritten letter to “My Beloved President” and in it shared their confidence that he alone could end gun violence by strong-arming Congressional leaders into passing more robust National gun laws, maybe he’ll see the benefit of defying the NRA.

Love has many faces and offers many favors. Passing such legislation in America would seem like an historic feat, enough to reap high honors and potentially cast this President in a new light. Maybe the Vatican will commission a bust of his likeness to sit in the Museum’s Gallery of Statues and the Hall of Busts. Or perhaps his face would finally be carved into Mt. Rushmore. Certainly he could fulfill his dream of being a Nobel Laureate.

As a child, my grandmother told me I’d never catch flies with vinegar. Over the years I’ve learned we can only get through to a stubborn heart with love. So let’s put pen to paper and for one moment believe we can move that mountain with love. You might lose five minutes of your time, but you might keep your classmates, children, or grandchildren alive. This is my wish.