Speaking Wrong At The Right Time

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It’s been a while since I’ve been on ’s show but I was glad to return. In this video, I gave my 2-cents about the state of American politics for her UK audience.

Enjoy the dialogue.

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People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime.

When you figure out which one it is, you will know what to do for each person.

A reason person meets a specific need—offering guidance, support, or help through a difficult time—then moves on once the purpose is fulfilled.

A season person brings joy, growth, or shared experiences for a temporary chapter.

Lifetime relationships teach enduring lessons and remain constant.

~ Brian A. “Drew” Chalker (adapted)

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I was eight months pregnant with our third child, due in about six weeks, when a kindly man with white hair and a suit jacket knocked on our door at snowy Fort Drum, where there are two seasons: winter and the 4th of July. We’d just moved into new quarters, and I was chasing two toddlers while feeling utterly miserable.

He introduced himself as Pastor Maughan and asked if he could step inside for a moment. Hesitant and exhausted, I let him in anyway. He and his wife were planting a new church nearby and wondered if we had a church home. I explained we’d only been there a couple of months and hadn’t found one yet. He invited us for Sunday and left a flyer, which I set on top of the fridge and promptly forgot to mention to my husband.

Sundays came and went. We stayed home, just trying to survive each day.

Three weeks later, the familiar knock returned. Pastor Maughan was “in the neighborhood” and wanted to check on me. He asked gentle questions about our family and where we’d come from, then left after giving the kids a small treat. No pushy invitation this time, just kindness. I told my husband about it that night.

Ten days later, the knock came again. This time, his lovely wife, Miss Amy, stood beside him. They asked to visit for a minute. In my mind, questions swirled: Why are they being so nice? Are they legit or just… creepy?

My toddlers immediately flocked to Miss Amy, drawn by her soft eyes and gentle voice. Over coffee, Pastor shared about their small group of families. For the first time in months, I had uninterrupted adult conversation. They stayed only twenty minutes, didn’t press us to attend, but asked if they could check in again sometime. I said yes.

Our baby boy arrived early; labor started at 2 p.m. on December 21, and by 11:11 that night, we were snuggling an 8-pound, 5-ounce bundle. With no family within 1,000 miles, we rushed home from the hospital by noon the next day. That evening blurred into exhaustion, excitement, and nursing.

Somehow—they never said how—Pastor Maughan and Miss Amy knew. On the 23rd, they arrived with a hot meal, a beautiful handmade blanket, and layette items. They didn’t linger, just asked if they could pop by the next day. Tears filled my eyes; I said yes.

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Every day for the next week, including Christmas Eve and Christmas, a church member brought a meal. On Christmas, the kids got little toys, and we received a fruit basket. They didn’t preach; they simply showed Christ’s love through actions.

In January, we started attending steadily. Their church met in a big old Victorian house: the dining room turned sanctuary, Miss Amy at the organ against the wall, children upstairs for kids’ church while we worshiped and studied.

One Sunday, our middle child Hannah, who was three years old and convinced clothes were optional, vanished during service. Panic set in until someone spotted her outside in the vegetable garden, happily munching on green tomatoes in nothing but her underwear. She was blissfully unbothered; the rest of us were in stitches (and relief).

Moments like that reminded us that this little church family embraced the messiness of real life, toddlers and all.

That summer, Dave and I were baptized at a nearby church willing to host our little group. Pastor Maughan joked there wouldn’t be enough room for everyone in their bathroom. Our son was dedicated there too.

Over the next couple of years at Fort Drum, that church family demonstrated God’s faithfulness again and again: changing a flat tire when my husband was in the field, inviting us for meals and fellowship, teens offering free babysitting on special nights.

Then orders came. We moved nearly 3,000 miles to Fort Lewis.

We stayed in touch for a while, but military life, time zones, and changing seasons pulled us apart naturally. Yet thirty-seven years ago this month, we first walked through those Victorian doors, and we’ve never looked back.

Pastor Maughan and Miss Amy were our “reason” people: they entered our lives briefly, met a deep need with quiet, persistent kindness, and left gifts that still echo. Gifts like confidence in God’s details, the habit of showing up, a faith that traveled with us through every PCS. They taught us that God is faithful in the smallest moments; we just have to open the door.

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Today, I’m putting out my latest work, a documentary titled “Not Standing Alone.” I pulled this together from raw conversations with people who’ve lived through the mess of transgender issues—doctors, parents, folks who’ve detransitioned, activists, and more.

They lay bare the rushed medical calls on kids, the cover-ups in institutions, and how this whole thing ripples out to schools, sports, and families everywhere.

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Why “Not Standing Alone”? Because more people are finally speaking up, refusing to stay silent. The film digs into the explosion of gender dysphoria cases among teens, hitting girls especially hard, and spotlights stories like surgeon Eithan Haim’s fight after blowing the whistle at Texas Children’s Hospital. It connects these personal scars to show the bigger pattern of neglect and deception.

A few highlights:

• Surgeries and hormones that turn minors into lifelong patients, all while ignoring any real underlying problems. One voice in the film cuts right to it: “There is no benefit because there’s no disease they’re treating.”

• Psychotherapist Stella O’Malley pointing out how systems shield bad behavior: “extraordinary levels of institutional defenses around very bad behavior.”

• Former Athlete & Founder of XX-XY, , and Substack writer Meghan Murphy breaking down the loss of women’s spaces and sports, and why this “progressive” push just reinforces old stereotypes instead of shattering them.

• An examination of how this ideology twists education into a recruitment tool, rejecting any firm grasp on reality.

• Accounts from detransitioners, plus calls to prioritize real mental health support over hasty interventions.

If you’ve ever wondered why there’s such a hurry to push these interventions without solid backing—or questioned the human cost—this might open your eyes. It’s aimed at parents, teachers, officials, or anyone who’s seen the fallout and wants the truth. If it hits home, pass it on. We can’t afford to let this slide.

I appreciate everyone’s support.

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In my latest New York Post article, I focus in on scams happening against Americans and how it feels like we are either constantly dodging them or getting caught in their webs.

I’ve been watching a lot of Scambaiter content on YouTube, which is fascinating but also troubling because there is an abundance of scamming attempts that they could create content seemingly forever.

I interviewed a total of five people for this piece to hit on multiple angles of scams happening in America. I hope you enjoy it and learn something.

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When I was a child, my family encountered an “Amazing American” who helped us when we didn’t have a place to go.

This woman didn’t know us but sacrificed for a mother with two children who needed a place to stay until we could get back on our feet.

Most people in America have never been in a position where they didn’t know where they were going to lay their heads that night.

Homelessness has unfortunately woven its way into my life multiple times, starting from my childhood and, as I previously wrote, once as an adult.

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To this day, I don’t know what it feels like to call a place my home, and it’s a hard concept to wrap my head around—staying in one location for the rest of my life—despite how much I hate the instability of constantly moving.

Instead, I am just thankful that I have a roof over my head, no matter where that roof is. Maybe my bar is incredibly low, but this minimal appreciation stems from decades ago.

How we encountered this “Amazing American” originated from an unfortunate living situation with a family member.

We had recently moved to upstate New York to live with a family member in her house so my mother could further her career in nursing. It was a situation that was supposed to be charitable on my family member’s part, but it quickly became hostile.

I was young, so my memories are a bit scrambled. But after talking with my sister about this—who is four years older than me—she filled in the details of our abrupt exit from their home.

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I do remember not liking this family member because they were scary to me. She was aggressive and mean. One evening, I walked out of my bedroom and she saw me, which triggered her to scream at me.

My sister recalls that I froze in fright and started peeing myself, which made her even angrier. This event prompted my sister to tell my mom what happened, and then everything changed.

I remember getting off the school bus and my mother was there waiting for me. We were leaving because she wasn’t going to have her little boy in such an abusive environment.

Once again, my memory is spotty, but I remember staying at a Motel 6 and going to school. I don’t think anyone in my school knew what was going on with us.

One day, my mother told us that we were going to be staying with this woman that she met, who offered to help us on such short notice.

This wasn’t a wealthy woman with a massive house and living a life of abundance. This was a woman who had a spare room in her trailer in the nearby trailer park.

I had never met this woman before, but I never felt unsafe staying in her trailer. Once again, my memories are spotty about my time living there, but I generally remember how I felt around that time.

My mother always conveyed to me that this situation was temporary and we would soon have our own place.

God bless my mother because I don’t know how she did it at that time, but somehow we successfully utilized that one bedroom for a couple of months (my timeline could be slightly off, but it was a little while).

Over the years, I’ve thought about this situation from a multitude of angles. I think I’m a relatively generous person, but I don’t know if I could have three strangers stay in my home for an indefinite period, even if they were paying me a modest amount.

I don’t know the arrangement my mother and she had, but I do know I felt safe there. I wasn’t nearly as anxious staying there as I was living with my family member who seemingly hated that I was in her home.

It’s sad to say this, but sometimes it’s strangers who will care more about you than blood will.

Despite facing these hardships as a child, they have made me more thankful for the small things in life and aspects of American life that we take for granted at times.

I am thankful that people like that woman exist in our country.

If you'd like to contribute your own "Amazing Americans" story, which will be posted here and on Substack, send me a private message or email me [email protected]

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So, I wanted to be fair and critical of the arrest of Don Lemon. Are we punishing a journalist who was simply documenting what was going on? Was he involved in the protest?

The bar has been lowered when it comes to journalists documenting illegal activities due to Jan. 6 and how they treated independent journalists who were there.

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Let me say, I’m neither a lawyer nor an expert. I could be wrong and am open to fair critique.

When I did a little bit of research, sources say that independent journalists, like ones with InfoWars, who were there on January 6 and entered the Capitol grounds were prosecuted despite initial claims of being journalists.

One of the descriptions I read stated that legal experts claimed these individuals “were captured on video encouraging or joining the riot.”

Watching various Don Lemon reactions to the church being stormed by BLM activists, he was encouraging of it. Multiple times he rationalized the behavior by saying that protesting is supposed to be “uncomfortable.”

At no point did he seem neutral about what was going on. And let’s be honest, neutrality isn’t his forte (like most members of the media).

Also, when it comes to January 6, they penalized those independent journalists by claiming they weren’t “credentialed.”

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Initially, I thought being credentialed only had to do with who was allowed, as press, on the Capitol grounds. But from reading further, experts make the claim that just because you have a microphone and a camera, it doesn’t automatically grant you First Amendment protections as a journalist in general.

While we know Don Lemon as being a journalist under the CNN umbrella for many years, he is obviously independent now. The question is, does he have the same protections now that he’s not employed by a mainstream outlet?

To me, as a layman and non-legal expert, the situation of January 6 may have given grounds for the federal government to lump independent journalists in alongside people who are doing illegal activities.

Admittedly, I don’t like Don Lemon, but the more I look into this, I’m not sure how excited I am about his arrest.

After this first happened, I thought it could be a legitimate case to arrest him, as he appeared like he was operating and somewhat organizing with them prior to entry. Maybe the people within the church felt the same way, and that should be under consideration.

There have been tactics set up by radical leftists to claim being journalists as fronts for running interference on illegal acts being committed. Was this one of those cases?

Independent journalists are important in our ecosystem, and they sometimes take major risks to break stories that mainstream outlets would never attempt. January 6 may have set a precedent, but is it good that we continue down this road?

Based on my findings, federal prosecutors in January 6 cases claimed that shouting in favor displayed their bias and effectively removed their legitimacy as journalists.

Most journalists cover stories that they’re in favor of, so does excitement over the event make them equally complicit if it trends into illegal activity?

If I’m honest, I’m less certain about how I feel with this situation than a week ago. In a principled manner, I’m looking at the long term for independent journalists, especially since I float between writing independently and for mainstream outlets like The New York Post.

The DOJ may have an ironclad case against Don Lemon that I’m not aware of. I’m always open to that being a possibility. But speaking as a non-legal expert and someone who watches the waves of culture, this wave may turn against us.

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Conversations about gender, identity, and childhood vulnerability often devolve into polarized shouting matches. It’s rare to find a piece of media that cuts through the noise with raw humanity and doesn’t pretend that heinous acts aren’t happening.

That’s exactly what my latest documentary project, “Not Standing Alone”, achieves.

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Filmed over two intense days at the Genspect Bigger Picture Conference in Albuquerque, New Mexico, this feature-length documentary—clocking in at just over an hour—captures the unfiltered stories of resilience, rejection, and redemption from those who’ve been directly impacted by what I see as an evil ideology preying on the most vulnerable.

As the director and someone who spoke at the conference, I poured my heart into this film to highlight not just the problems, but the people fighting back.

The idea for “Not Standing Alone” sparked during my involvement with Genspect, an organization dedicated to evidence-based approaches to gender distress.

I was invited to speak at their Bigger Picture Conference, where experts, parents, detransitioners, and advocates gathered to discuss the broader implications of gender ideology on society.

I wanted to show the world that the opposition to the acceptance of transitioning children wasn’t motivated by hateful people but instead concerned professionals, parents, and victims of the ideology.

These were people who saw first hand the destruction attempting to transition has done to people, mentally and physically, and wanted to be part of the solution to help instead of harm these people who are in genuine distress.

As a father myself, and someone who’s experienced neglect and rejection in my own life, I connected profoundly with the themes emerging from the conference.

In my speech there, I spoke from the heart about the pain of feeling invisible and how that vulnerability is exploited.

The documentary builds on that, weaving together defining moments from the event, including intimate interviews with speakers and attendees who shaped the conversations. It’s not just a recap; it’s a call to action for empathy and accountability.

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At the core of “Not Standing Alone” are the powerful narratives from a diverse group of individuals who’ve confronted these issues head-on. The film features insightful contributions from:

: A psychotherapist and founder of Genspect, Stella brings a compassionate, professional lens to the discussion, emphasizing the need for thoughtful, non-ideological support for gender-distressed youth.

Eithan Haim: As a whistleblower in the medical field, Eithan shares his experiences exposing unethical practices in gender-affirming care, highlighting the ethical dilemmas faced by professionals.

Logan Lancing: An author and advocate, Logan delves into the cultural and psychological underpinnings of gender ideology, drawing from his work to illustrate how narratives can distort reality.

: Known for her stand against corporate overreach during the COVID era, Jennifer connects the dots between broader societal pressures and the push for unquestioned gender transitions.

: A therapist focused on truth and healing, Pamela offers perspectives on the therapeutic failures that leave kids feeling even more isolated.

These voices aren’t just talking heads; they’re real people sharing raw, often painful stories of kids being ignored, families torn apart, and adults rising up against damaging narratives. The film captures the conference’s energy—the debates, the tears, the breakthroughs—showing how these individuals are not standing alone in their fight for truth and resilience.

One of the most poignant threads is the exploration of neglect and rejection as root causes.

As I mentioned in my conference speech, which is featured in the doc, this ideology thrives on the insecurities of the overlooked. It promises belonging but delivers isolation.

Through attendee interviews, we see parents grappling with regret, detransitioners reclaiming their lives, and experts advocating for better safeguards. It’s a reminder that behind every policy debate are real human lives at stake.

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In 2025, as debates around gender ideology intensified, *Not Standing Alone* arrived at a critical moment.

This isn’t about politics; it’s about protecting kids from hasty decisions that could alter their lives forever. It’s about empowering adults to speak up without fear of cancellation.

It’s a testament to the power of community, like the one at Genspect, where people from all walks come together to push back against harm.

When I went into this conference, I thought this would be another short-documentary to share with the world but it turned out to be so much more substantive.

This film spotlights those fighting an uphill battle with grace and determination. It’s a project born from empathy, and I hope it inspires viewers to reflect on their own roles in these conversations.

If you’re a parent, educator, or just someone concerned about the direction of our society, this documentary will resonate. It’s over an hour of unscripted truth that leaves you hopeful, not defeated.

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I believe Americans are amazing because I’ve met many firsthand who have thankfully impacted me positively.

In this writing series, I want to begin by talking about a group of people I barely knew that sacrificed so I didn’t have to sleep in my car after moving to Tennessee.

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Prior to moving to Tennessee, I was living at home in New Jersey and wanted a change in my life for better economic opportunity.

At the time, I had a good friendship with a guy who lived in Nashville, and we talked daily about cars and life. I was 21 years old, and we had discussed the possibility of me moving out to Nashville to learn autobody work.

In my early 20s, I was passionate about cars and thought I’d want to switch into the automotive profession. In several conversations, he said he knew someone who could possibly get me work as an apprentice.

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Where would I stay? Well, he said he had a house, and I could crash with him until I got myself settled.

Before making any hasty decisions, I decided to drive to Nashville and meet this friend and his auto shop friend to see if this was relatively legitimate.

When I met him, he had me meet at his parents’ house because he was supposedly there helping them. Later that day, he had me briefly meet his friend to solidify the image of this entire endeavor coming true.

In hindsight, his friend looked kind of confused as to who I was, but for many years, I struggled with trusting my instincts and would lean on blind optimism. Deep down inside, I wanted this to work because I was desperate.

I was working a dead-end job, I had just had a child, and I knew that I needed to take a major risk to find some sort of success in life to ultimately take care of my son.

When I came back home to New Jersey, I knew I was leaving for Nashville—a place I’d only visited for a couple of days. I had no family there, no life connections there other than this guy I met online, and starting over was going to be a massive overhaul in my life.

I thought if it worked out, I could have my son and his mother come with me, and maybe we could finally make our relationship work to become a family. But in the short term, I was going to be away from him, which hurt more than I thought it would because I was incredibly attached to him.

The one smart thing I did was find a job at an alarm company before moving out there. I applied from New Jersey and told them everything about me moving there. My boss understood the entire situation and had the job waiting for me.

The day had finally come for me to drive to Nashville with all of my belongings stuffed into a Mitsubishi Eclipse, but I’d get no answer from my friend on the phone. Call after call, no answer.

It wasn’t until I was a couple hours away from Nashville that he finally answered. “Sorry man, you can’t stay here.” My heart sank, and I didn’t know what to do. Admittedly, I was already kind of broke but hoped that a new job would get me out of the dumps quickly.

Here I am on a Friday night after driving over 13 hours to Nashville, and I have no place to go. I may write about this in the future, but I coincidentally had another car friend in Huntsville, Alabama, who let me stay with him for the weekend so I didn’t have to spend my last dollars on a hotel.

Monday rolls around, and it’s my first day on the job. It was like this looming secret in my head, and I didn’t know if I should say anything or not. These people don’t know me, and I don’t know if it would negatively impact my job—one I desperately needed.

A couple hours into my shift, my boss pulls me into his office for a friendly chat. “So, everything go okay with staying with your friend?” It was a crossroads for me: being honest or lying to hide my embarrassment.

For some reason, I told him the truth; I told him everything. I tried to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal because I could just sleep in my car in the meantime.

He looked legitimately concerned and told me he would get back to me later that day.

Before the end of my shift, he talked to me again in his office and told me that none of management wanted to see me sleep in my car.

This man got together with all the supervisors—with discretion in mind—told them my situation, and asked if they’d be willing to pool some money together to place me in a hotel for as long as I needed.

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Even writing about it still brings tears to my eyes. These people knew me for less than a day and were willing to commit to helping me have a warm place to sleep for weeks.

They paid for my hotel rooms and, I believe, gave me a little cash to get some food to eat. If my memory serves me, I believe they paid for upwards of 5 weeks for me to stay in a weekly hotel before I had enough money to get my own apartment.

No one outside of management ever knew what was going on with me. Once in a while, a supervisor would ask during a shift if I was alright—almost like code speak for them wanting to sincerely make sure I was safe.

There was never a discussion of me paying them back or anything like that. However, for me, I paid them back by being the best damn employee they ever had. Any time they needed someone to work overtime, I took it. I went above and beyond to show my appreciation for the people who sacrificed when they didn’t even know me.

For a long time, I was ashamed of the situation I put myself in. 20 years since this happened, I still don’t know if I told my mother all of these details because I felt foolish; this was the primary reason I didn’t ask her for help at the time.

I would later find out that my “friend” didn’t have his own home and that he falsified a lot about his life. His car friend didn’t know who I was or what the plans were.

His girlfriend would later reach out to me months later apologizing to me because she knew what was going on and wished she’d said something to me before I left my life behind.

These Amazing Americans, who were of various ages, races, and sexual orientations, all cared about me—a complete stranger. They didn’t want anything from me other than for me to be safe in the world.

So, when I say that Americans are amazing, it’s not an empty slogan to me.

It stems from various encounters with people who helped me when I was in need and inspire me to be a better man, father, and citizen of this great nation.

America is great because of the heart of its people; don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

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It’s a new year and my first appearance on Sky News Australia to give my 2 cents on current events. A short segment but figured I would share.

Enjoy.

Learn more about how the Supreme Court works with PragerU’s Supreme Court 101 Course.

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Most of what we’ve been witnessing in Minneapolis revolving around ICE’s presence has been what I call “agitation theater.”

It’s the root of why Don Lemon joined local activists, like the local BLM chapter, to disrupt church services. Agitation is a feature to their mayhem, not a bug.

You’ve probably heard people say “politics is a show” or something to that effect but communists push this to an extreme. Everything they do is for the show and to get a response out of witnesses.

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Remember, ICE is not a new organization manifested by Donald Trump but they want you to believe that their existence and operations are somehow different or immoral.

They are highly focused on optics in areas most aren’t and through agitation, they can force emotional responses that they can spin into their favor.

ICE operates nationwide, yet the focus is on Minneapolis because activists want this to be the case. They have the backing of major government officials in the state, enabling them to push the limits of what they can get away with.

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It reminds me of the “I’m not touching you” game that kids play as they get centimeters away from someone’s face, agitating them and when the person hits them in response, they can suddenly play the victim.

The anti-ICE brigade that stalks ICE officials is playing that game as they ride the lines of interference in an immigration investigation. Renee Good and her wife played this game as well.

Don Lemon and his activist “buddies” played the game of agitation by targeting an institution that they despise and is held in reverence in the United States. They poked the bear, agitated and terrorized the people who were inside the church to get a response.

However, beyond a response from the congregants, they want a response from passersby too. Some reactions you can see, like the DOJ pursuing potential charges against Lemon and his leftist cohorts under the KKK act.

But many of these reactions you’ll never see because it’s an alteration in the psyche of Americans. It’s to make you worried about going to church next Sunday and think twice before driving your SUV around town.

It’s the agitation toward fear that paralyzes people or forces them to alter their pattern of conduct to avoid being the target. It’s the same agitation that convinced stores to put up pride flags and BLM signs in their windows during the 2020 “Summer of Love” in hopes that the agitators will avoid destroying their business.

Don Lemon even said it in his own words that he believes their version of protesting is about “making people uncomfortable.” Protesting can make a target feel discomfort but that doesn’t mean all forms of discomfort are protesting.

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That’s the logic of the agitator leftist and why they think everything is tacitly acceptable as long as it bothers people. Instilling fear in the public is a power move and part of the theater of it all.

All of this is worrisome but similarly, it’s important to understand that just like any theater, you’re only seeing what they want you to see.

Organized riots are an example of agitation theater, because they occupy a small local footprint in a district like it’s a battlefield and when cameras show up, it gives the false impression that the entire town or city is under siege.

Or if they want to orchestrate a peaceful protest, they’ll push for crowds of people to organize in an area that looks impressive on a wide angle lens to give the false impression of consensus.

What you’re seeing is happening but it’s just as carefully constructed as a movie set. The light you’re seeing in that movie, which appears to be coming from the sun through the window is actually artificial light angled to trick your eyes so you think it’s natural.

That’s the essence of agitation theater; what you see is not the entirety of what’s happening. It’s only existence is through provikation.

They want you to think this is a naturally organic grassroots movement when behind the scenes, they are propped up by media snobs like Don Lemon, funded by the CCP, and defended by the most powerful institutions.

It’s artificial light, pretending to be sunlight shining on the measures of a supposed authoritarian President. Zoom out and you’ll see an entire crew that is hellbent on power, who will play the victim when we flinch and react back, and will use your fear against you.

This is your behind the scenes moment; they’re all actors.

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