How Do We Save America?

We hear this question more and more lately: How do we save America? We hear it whispered in grief and shouted in frustration. We hear it from parents afraid for their trans kids, from exhausted teachers, from faith leaders trying to hold shattered communities together. We hear it from the hearts of people who love this country — not for what it has always been, but for what it could be.

And here’s what we want to say: Saving America is not about taking it back. It’s about bringing it forward. Into love. Into justice. Into healing.

So, what would we do? How would we begin?

First, We Recenter Our Humanity

Before we talk about policy or politics, we have to talk about people. Because somewhere along the way, we stopped seeing each other. We stopped listening. We stopped believing that everyone’s story matters.

So we begin with empathy.

We make space for the sacred stories — the trans teen navigating Texas legislation, the immigrant mother praying to stay, the queer child afraid to come out in church. We lift those stories up like communion. We let them break our hearts. And in that breaking, we
begin to heal. We cannot fix what we won’t feel.

Then, We Protect What’s Sacred: Democracy

We’re watching foundational freedoms crumble in real time. When votes are suppressed, books are banned, and courts are stacked for political gain, it’s not democracy. It’s domination. So we protect what’s holy: the right to speak, to vote, to be.

We demand accessible voting, fair representation, and an end to the disinformation that poisons hearts. We speak out when truth is twisted. We refuse to normalize cruelty. We stop saying “it’s just politics.” No. When policies target people, it’s personal.

We Center the Margins — Without Apology

Let us be crystal clear: We will not save America by appeasing white supremacy, misogyny, or transphobia. We save it by centering the ones they try to erase.

That means:
– Trans rights are non-negotiable.
– Black lives still matter.
– Queer kids are not political pawns.
– Women’s autonomy is sacred.
– Disabled folks deserve more than scraps.
– Immigrants are not threats — they are our siblings.

If we are not fighting for the most vulnerable, we are not building a future worth living in.

We Dare to Imagine Better

So many of us have been in “resistance mode” for years. We’ve marched. We’ve protested. We’ve screamed into the void. But now — it’s time to dream again.

We want a world where:
– Healthcare is a human right
– Housing is stable and safe
– Schools tell the truth
– Climate action protects those hit first and worst
– Parents don’t fear losing their children to hate

This isn’t naïve. This is what faith looks like — the belief that the world can be made new.

We Break the Grip of Christian Nationalism

We know this one well. Christian nationalism has hijacked the name of Jesus to prop up power and privilege. It’s built on fear, control, and shame — and it’s not the gospel. It’s an idol. So we pull back the curtain. We name the false prophets.

We say: You do not get to weaponize faith to harm people. You do not get to call oppression “God’s will.”

We reclaim the radical Jesus — the one who flipped tables, embraced outcasts, and shattered systems of religious abuse.

We Link Arms — and Never Let Go

No one person can save America. But together? Oh, beloved, together we are unstoppable. We support the grassroots leaders doing the slow work. We build coalitions, not cliques. We refuse to let ego or fear divide us. And we have the hard conversations — even with the people we love. Especially with the people we love. We plant seeds, even when we won’t see the harvest.

And Finally, We Ask Ourselves This: Who do we refuse to leave behind?

Because that is the question that shapes the world. It’s the question Jesus asked again and again: Who will we touch? Who will we heal? Who will we fight for?

So let’s be people who stay tender. People who tell the truth. People who love bravely, even when it’s costly.

Let’s save America — not just with ballots or policies, but with a movement of hearts that will not be moved.

We’re here for it. We’re here for you.