As I was getting into my car to go home, my mother called me. “Did you hear about what happened to that poor man?” she asked in reference to the assassination of Charlie Kirk, the prominent conservative activist and youth organizer. “Yes, it’s just tragic,” I replied.

She then said, “You cannot go into politics.” I uttered a gruff “uh-huh” in reply, as if to shrug through the phone, but my mind continued to play, over and over, the horrifying clip that made the rounds on social media showing the bullet striking Kirk.

After the conversation ended and I hung up, I thought to myself, “Maybe she’s right.” Maybe politics isn’t what it used to be. Maybe the state of free expression in this country isn’t what it used to be. Maybe this isn’t for me anymore.

But then, I came to a stop at a red

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