A Nation at a Crossroads
America feels weary. Public life is saturated with dissatisfaction and even a substantial degree of anger. Too often, our national conversation resembles a shouting match more than a dialogue.
The recent assassination of Charlie Kirk, a communicator who sparked vigorous debate on college campuses, is a sobering reminder of how dangerous our public square has become. Violence in place of dialogue is not only a personal tragedy but also a warning sign for our Republic itself.
And yet history reminds us: America was born out of disagreement. Our founders quarreled fiercely, but they still believed in something we risk forgetting — that it is possible to disagree without destroying one another.
America’s Cycles of Conflict
It is tempting to think our divisions are uniquely modern. They are not. The pendulum of America’s political history has always swung between unity and fracture.
In the 1790s, partisan newspapers hurled insults at Washington, Adams, and Jefferson in terms as brutal as any social media post today. The 1850s nearly tore the country apart — and then did. The Gilded Age brought violent labor strikes, deep class resentment, and widespread distrust in institutions. The 1960s saw assassinations, riots, and cultural clashes so sharp that many wondered whether the nation could survive them.
And yet, the pendulum has always swung back. Not because divisions vanished, but because Americans — exhausted by bitterness — rediscovered the value of dialogue, compromise, and common cause. That is the challenge before us now.
What Changed — and Why It Matters
What feels different today is not disagreement itself but its velocity. Social media and the 24-hour news cycle reward outrage more than understanding. Nuance disappears in the rush for clicks and soundbites. Opponents are caricatured; listening feels optional.
When politics becomes tribal, the goal shifts from winning arguments to destroying adversaries. That is a dangerous path. Charlie Kirk’s assassination is not an isolated event; it reflects a culture where hostility too often replaces civility.
But history also shows us a better way forward — if we choose it.
Lessons from Family and History
In my book Buried Treasures: The Real-Life Amazing Story of My Remarkable Family, I trace stories of perseverance and dignity that echo across centuries. My roots run deep into America’s beginnings. Nine of my great-grandparents were among the 1620 Mayflower passengers — including John Alden, Priscilla Mullins, Richard Warren, Thomas Rogers, Governor William Bradford, and Stephen Hopkins.
My family tree also connects me to Benjamin Franklin, my first cousin, and to President John Adams and Samuel Adams. I share this not out of pride but gratitude. I am reminded that history is not abstract; it is lived, inherited, and passed down. America’s greatness lies not in avoiding conflict but in how we handle it. Civility is not weakness. It is strength, restrained and tempered by wisdom.
Relearning the Art of Civil Discourse
So what does this mean for us in America’s 250th year? It means we must actively reclaim the habits of civil discourse.
Listen before you respond. Our founders listened — sometimes impatiently, often furiously — but they listened.
Distinguish people from positions. We can reject ideas without rejecting humanity.
Speak with purpose, not just passion. Anger is cheap; persuasion requires patience.
Teach civility. Parents, teachers, and mentors must model respectful disagreement.
Lead by example. The work begins at our dinner tables, in our classrooms, and in our neighborhoods.
The Pendulum Always Swings Back
History reminds us that power unchecked breeds reaction. When those in authority push too far, the electorate eventually pulls them back. This pendulum is woven into America’s DNA. We endure seasons of anger and imbalance, but eventually citizens rediscover the need for moderation and equilibrium.
We should not take this return for granted — it does not happen automatically. It depends on people of goodwill refusing to give up on persuasion, refusing to accept that violence is the only language left.
The pendulum will swing back again if enough of us are willing to push it.
A Call to Hope
Hope is not fantasy. It is conviction in action. If we want America’s 250th birthday to be not just a milestone but a renewal, we must choose civility, respect, and dialogue over hatred and violence.
An Invitation to Reflection and Renewal
That is why I write. In Buried Treasures and in Birth of America, Born on the 4th of July, I seek to tell stories that remind us of who we are and who we can be. These books are not only about history but about renewal — about rediscovering wisdom in our past to guide us through our present.
As this historic anniversary approaches, I invite you to reflect, to converse, and to recommit to treating one another as fellow Americans. Let us celebrate not just with fireworks and parades but with a deeper resolve: to honor liberty by preserving the bonds of respect that make liberty possible.
That, I believe, would be a true celebration of America’s founding promise. Having come so far, let us renew our resolve in being undivided. We are, after all, the United States of America.
Thomas R. Drummond
