We Are Not Bystanders

This is not how I pictured my return to Substack in the new year. I figured I’d write some sort of recap, talking about the chaos of the end of 2025 and what I’m looking forward to in 2026.

But I can’t do that.

Because last night, before I went to sleep, I saw a photo of Liam Ramos in his bunny beanie and Spiderman backpack. A 5-year-old. ICE detained him, separated him from his family, and used him as bait to arrest his relatives when they came to pick him up from school.

And if you're here on my Substack or engage with my content, I assume you have more empathy than the average person in our country right now. You're interested in stories from people who don't look like you, who have experiences you could never relate to, but you want to hear them anyway. Because you understand that's where connection lives.

I don’t really know where we’re going to go from here. But this can’t be it. And you might say, maybe this is exactly what this country is—this ugly thing that people have kept hidden inside themselves has been given permission to surface.

But I refuse to believe that this is all we are. Are there people who truly can't be reached? Sure. But most people aren't actively cruel—they're passive. They're tired. They've convinced themselves that one voice, one action, one moment of resistance doesn't matter.

And that’s the lie we need to stop telling ourselves.

Because here’s what I know: Liam Ramos won't be the last person whose story breaks my heart. There will be more—children and adults alike—more moments when I feel helpless against systems designed to crush rather than protect.

But I also know this: We are not powerless. We are not bystanders.

We can speak up when someone makes a cruel joke at the expense of people who don’t look like them. We can check on our neighbors—especially those who might be scared right now. We can support organizations doing the work on the ground. We can refuse to normalize cruelty, even when it’s exhausting to keep caring.

Small acts of humanity matter. They always have. They’re how we’ve survived every dark chapter of history before this one.

So I’m asking you: don’t be passive. Don’t let compassion fatigue win. Don’t convince yourself that your one voice, your one action, your one moment of showing up doesn’t matter.

Because it does.

Every person caught in these systems deserves a country where enough of us believe that.