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“Freedom is a fragile thing and it’s never more than one generation away from extinction.” — Ronald Reagan
I arrived at the Lincoln Memorial on February 22, 2025, in the biting cold—temperatures in the upper 30s deepening the palpable chill of disillusionment. Among approximately 2,000 determined souls gathered to support Ukraine’s fight for freedom, I felt the weight of my 30-year military service collide with today’s crisis of American leadership. Standing before the grandeur of the Lincoln Memorial, the backdrop of the reflective pool, and the towering Washington Monument, it felt fitting—an iconic symbol of American ideals and unity, juxtaposed against a nation deeply divided over its role in the world.
Two moments seared into my memory. First, I noticed a young, blonde woman holding aloft a banner with a singular, heart-wrenching message dedicated solely to Ukraine’s children—a stark reminder of the 20,000 kidnapped lives lost. Her emotional display during the Ukrainian national anthem, which she sang flawlessly, revealed a profound personal connection to Ukraine’s suffering. It wasn’t just a rally sign; it was as if those children embodied a personal loss that compelled her to stand and fight, not from a distance, but with every fiber of her being.
Equally unforgettable was the appearance of a battle-scarred soldier—missing limbs and all—who took to the podium, speaking in English with a calm, resolute demeanor. His speech was not an appeal for sympathy over his personal losses but instead offered a vision toward a better future. He meticulously detailed a week in the life of an ordinary citizen in a future renewed society, free from the relentless blare of sirens signaling bombardments from the Russian aggressors, and his measured tone conveyed no desire for pity. Yet, coming from a military background, I couldn’t help but feel uneasy about using physical scars as mere symbols to rally sympathy. But that was not the case; rather, his message was a call to build a renewed society—a free Ukraine and a Russia punished for its aggression and effectively neutered from further hostility.
What struck me most, however, was the painful contrast between the unwavering resolve of European delegates and our current U.S. leadership. Their determined solidarity—quietly rebuking an administration steeped in transactional, MAGA-driven policies—felt like a resounding “fuck you” to leadership that has lost sight of true patriotism. For me, patriotism has never been about empty chants or superficial gestures; it’s the quiet, steadfast commitment to sacrifice, honor, and duty. Trump’s extortionate, authoritarian leanings and transactional worldview have stripped away the soul of service I once held dear, leaving me to wonder if the ideals I fought for are fading into irrelevance.
I also noticed that, despite the charged atmosphere, none of the speakers directly named Trump. Instead, their diplomatic language focused on familiar refrains—remarks that politicians claim Zelenskyy is a dictator or that Ukraine was the aggressor, when, in reality, it is Russia that bears the blame. In that moment, I found myself silently aligning with their critique rather than that of my own government. Their carefully measured words resonated deeply, serving as a stark reminder that true patriotism is rooted in sacrifice and duty, not in transactional politics or empty slogans.
After 30 years in uniform, I now question whether my lifetime of sacrifice was ever truly worthwhile. In a society marred by the MAGA influence of transactional authoritarian politics, I can’t help but wonder if our sacrifices have been devalued by leadership that either forgets or simply has no idea what it means to serve. The path to restoring genuine patriotism lies not in fleeting political expediency but in purging these toxic influences and rekindling the timeless values that once defined our nation—a call for leadership that inspires, unites, and elevates this great country.
“Freedom is a fragile thing and it’s never more than one generation away from extinction.” — Ronald Reagan
I arrived at the Lincoln Memorial on February 22, 2025, in the biting cold—temperatures in the upper 30s deepening the palpable chill of disillusionment. Among approximately 2,000 determined souls gathered to support Ukraine’s fight for freedom, I felt the weight of my 30-year military service collide with today’s crisis of American leadership. Standing before the grandeur of the Lincoln Memorial, the backdrop of the reflective pool, and the towering Washington Monument, it felt fitting—an iconic symbol of American ideals and unity, juxtaposed against a nation deeply divided over its role in the world.
Two moments seared into my memory. First, I noticed a young, blonde woman holding aloft a banner with a singular, heart-wrenching message dedicated solely to Ukraine’s children—a stark reminder of the 20,000 kidnapped lives lost. Her emotional display during the Ukrainian national anthem, which she sang flawlessly, revealed a profound personal connection to Ukraine’s suffering. It wasn’t just a rally sign; it was as if those children embodied a personal loss that compelled her to stand and fight, not from a distance, but with every fiber of her being.
Equally unforgettable was the appearance of a battle-scarred soldier—missing limbs and all—who took to the podium, speaking in English with a calm, resolute demeanor. His speech was not an appeal for sympathy over his personal losses but instead offered a vision toward a better future. He meticulously detailed a week in the life of an ordinary citizen in a future renewed society, free from the relentless blare of sirens signaling bombardments from the Russian aggressors, and his measured tone conveyed no desire for pity. Yet, coming from a military background, I couldn’t help but feel uneasy about using physical scars as mere symbols to rally sympathy. But that was not the case; rather, his message was a call to build a renewed society—a free Ukraine and a Russia punished for its aggression and effectively neutered from further hostility.
What struck me most, however, was the painful contrast between the unwavering resolve of European delegates and our current U.S. leadership. Their determined solidarity—quietly rebuking an administration steeped in transactional, MAGA-driven policies—felt like a resounding “fuck you” to leadership that has lost sight of true patriotism. For me, patriotism has never been about empty chants or superficial gestures; it’s the quiet, steadfast commitment to sacrifice, honor, and duty. Trump’s extortionate, authoritarian leanings and transactional worldview have stripped away the soul of service I once held dear, leaving me to wonder if the ideals I fought for are fading into irrelevance.
I also noticed that, despite the charged atmosphere, none of the speakers directly named Trump. Instead, their diplomatic language focused on familiar refrains—remarks that politicians claim Zelenskyy is a dictator or that Ukraine was the aggressor, when, in reality, it is Russia that bears the blame. In that moment, I found myself silently aligning with their critique rather than that of my own government. Their carefully measured words resonated deeply, serving as a stark reminder that true patriotism is rooted in sacrifice and duty, not in transactional politics or empty slogans.
After 30 years in uniform, I now question whether my lifetime of sacrifice was ever truly worthwhile. In a society marred by the MAGA influence of transactional authoritarian politics, I can’t help but wonder if our sacrifices have been devalued by leadership that either forgets or simply has no idea what it means to serve. The path to restoring genuine patriotism lies not in fleeting political expediency but in purging these toxic influences and rekindling the timeless values that once defined our nation—a call for leadership that inspires, unites, and elevates this great country.