Hey, we need to talk about yesterday

Hi ,

Yesterday, we watched violence silence another voice in our national conversation. A father of two young children was killed for the words he spoke. For the ideas he shared. For standing at a podium in a place where ideas are supposed to be debated, not destroyed.

Today marks 24 years since September 11th, 2001. Another day when violence tried to break us. When thousands of children became orphans in a single morning. When we learned what loss looks like on an unimaginable scale.

These moments – yesterday and 24 years ago – they ask something of us.

Not revenge. Not rage. Not retreat into our corners.
Just this: Stop. Breathe. Remember who we are.

The Freedom We’re Forgetting.
For 234 years, since the Bill of Rights was ratified, we’ve protected something revolutionary – the right to be wrong out loud. The right to disagree fiercely. The right to change minds with words, not weapons.
Every voice silenced by violence is a victory for those who fear debate. Every person afraid to speak is a loss for all of us. Because the words we don’t want to hear often teach us the most.

The Children Watching
Somewhere today, children are asking why daddy isn’t coming home. They’re too young to understand politics. Too innocent to grasp why someone would kill over words.

What answer do we have for them?

What world are we building for them?

They don’t care about red or blue. They care about bedtime stories that won’t be read. About games of catch that won’t be played. About empty chairs at dinner tables.

The Lie We Keep Telling
We’ve convinced ourselves that “those people” are the problem. That “all of them” think the same. That “everyone who disagrees” is an enemy.

But here’s the truth we ignore: The extremes are loud, but they’re not large. Most of us – the quiet majority – we want the same things. Safe streets. Good schools. Opportunity for our kids. Dignity in our work. Respect for our beliefs. 

The fringe doesn’t represent us. Unless we let it.

What Our Founders Knew
The people who wrote the First Amendment couldn’t agree on much. Some owned slaves. Some fought to free them. Some wanted a king. Some wanted revolution.

But they agreed on this: In a nation where everyone thinks the same, no one thinks at all.

They built a country on disagreement. On the radical idea that opposing views, aired openly, make us stronger. That the answer to speech we hate isn’t silence – it’s more speech.

The Choice in Front of Us
Every day, we choose. Do we let the loudest, angriest voices speak for us? Or do we reclaim the radical middle – that place where most of us actually live?

Do we let fear drive us further apart? Or do we remember that the person we disagree with is someone’s parent, someone’s child, someone’s hope?

Civil disagreement isn’t weakness. It’s the hardest kind of strength. It’s looking someone in the eye who thinks you’re wrong about everything and saying, “I hear you. Now hear me.”

What Happens Next?
The fabric of our democracy wasn’t torn yesterday. It’s been tearing for years. Every time we celebrate violence against those we oppose. Every time we cheer when someone is silenced. Every time we forget that our neighbors aren’t our enemies.
But fabric can be mended. Stitch by stitch. Conversation by conversation. One deep breath at a time.

We’ve survived civil war. We’ve survived depressions. We’ve survived attacks on our soil. Not because we agreed on everything, but because we agreed on one thing – that we’re better together than apart.

Take another breath with me.

Now make a choice. Will you add to the tear? Or will you be part of the mending?

The answer matters. More than you know.

 With faith in what we can still become,
Ryan Niddel
CEO Diversified Botanics

P.S. – If this resonates, share it. Not to win an argument, but to start a different conversation. One where we remember that democracy isn’t about defeating each other. It’s about discovering each other

P.S.S. - I honor whatever your beliefs are.  This is not a political email.  This is not a “right” and “wrong” email.  This is a moment to pause and think, together.