Spring brought its surprises. From my window, I watched fescue green and pepper plants bloom. Children ran with laughter, and even our pets found renewed joy in the warmth. Like you, I eagerly watched things grow.

But not all growth is good.

One morning, I saw a wasp begin to build a nest on my porch. A single architect, crafting a paper dome from unseen fibers. I stood still, wondering—how does just one wasp start something that could soon swarm?

I live in a democracy. I am trained to watch. And I am seeing too many nests forming.

In Cape Girardeau, the “Save Carol” campaign pleads for a neighbor—deported not for breaking laws, but for never being permitted citizenship. Her children wait. Her coworkers wonder. Her friends ache in silence. That was one family. Tomorrow, it may be yours. I hear murmurs of reinstating the draft. My family served with pride, escaping Jim Crow’s grip through military service. But what cause calls our children now? Who do we trust to hold their lives in the balance?

And as summer nears, the sweetness of childhood is replaced by the hunger of policy. Food programs for children are being gutted. The hum of the ice cream truck may still pass by, but inside, stomachs groan.

These are the wasps I see: war, exile, and hunger. They spread their nests across this nation.

Now I ask you: What nests are forming at your door? Will you watch silently, or will you act?



Democracy does not defend itself. It requires guardians. Be one.