In times like these, I feel it’s my duty to speak up, not as a historian or a pundit, but simply as a mother who loves her family and community. We are in a moment where we all need to look hard at the road ahead, especially those who have fought and hoped for a fair, inclusive future — women, people of color, the LGBTQ+ community, immigrants. We’re at a crossroads, and I need you to know this isn’t just politics as usual. This is about staying safe and protecting our well-being in ways that may feel extreme but are rooted in reality.
It’s not easy to bring up history, especially when it holds dark warnings, but it’s impossible to ignore the parallels. In Germany in the 1930s, people didn’t believe things could change so drastically either, not until it was too late. History has shown us that authoritarianism doesn’t march in with fanfare; it seeps in slowly, disguised as "safety" and "order," and before we know it, we’ve lost the freedoms we thought we’d always have. Today, with policies like Project 2025, it feels like we’re seeing those early signs again. And I’m not saying this lightly.
The plans being laid out are troubling, not just because they’re strict but because they target the very groups that have fought hardest to carve out space in this country. We’re seeing a blueprint for a world that controls, restricts, and erases hard-won rights. It’s painful to admit that we’re facing this, but it’s even more painful to ignore it.
As a mother, I feel this in my bones. So here’s my heartfelt advice: if you live somewhere where these policies might come down hard, think about your options. If you’re in a red state, consider moving to a city where values of diversity and inclusivity are still strong. And if staying in the U.S. doesn’t feel safe at all, look at the bigger picture. There are many places where you can build a life that’s grounded in respect and freedom, even if that means leaving home. My family and I are preparing to make this choice ourselves. It hasn’t been easy to come to this decision, but we know it’s what we need for our physical and mental well-being.
Leaving is not simple. We have roots, friends, and memories here. But we realize that if we can preserve our well-being by making this change, it’s a choice we need to make. I know not everyone can leave, and for those who stay, I wish you all the strength, support, and resilience in the world. This country is full of good, decent people who deserve better than what’s coming, and it breaks my heart to see this path unfold.
And here’s what’s even harder to say: many of our neighbors, those who voted for this, may not understand the harm that’s coming. For them, it will take a painful lesson, one that hits close to home, before they realize what they’ve set into motion. No amount of warning or outreach is likely to change their minds until they see it in their own lives. And that’s heartbreaking, but it’s the reality we face.
Some may say that leaving is a cowardly choice, that we should stay and fight for our beliefs. And I understand this sentiment — it’s a natural response, rooted in pride and resilience. But I’d argue that leaving isn’t about running away; it’s about protecting our family, our mental well-being, and our future. There’s no cowardice in wanting safety or seeking a stable environment for our children to grow up in. If I felt that staying could create a safer world for us all, I would be the first to fight. But sometimes, the bravest thing we can do is recognize when a situation has moved beyond our ability to control or change.
Leaving doesn’t mean disengaging or giving up. Many of us will continue to advocate, vote, and fight for justice from wherever we are. Our love for this country and its people isn’t tied to a physical location. Instead, it’s anchored in values — values we can continue to support from a place where we feel safe, empowered, and free.
In the end, the choice to stay or go is personal, complex, and nuanced. Neither option is easy, and both require courage. But for us, leaving is the decision that best aligns with protecting what we cherish most. It’s a choice to preserve our well-being while maintaining the strength to continue advocating for the future we believe in, even from afar.
So, this is my call to you — not from fear, but from love. Let’s learn from the past, make thoughtful choices, and protect our values. Whether that means moving, staying vigilant, or finding supportive communities, take steps now. History has given us this warning, and we owe it to ourselves and each other to listen.
Stay safe, stay resilient, and know you’re not alone in this.
