Kindness Isn't Quiet

This past year has made me question something I’ve believed in my entire life.

Kindness has always been my compass. Not the polite kind. Not the “keep the peace” kind. The kind that asks you to show up with humanity even when it would be easier to shut down or turn away.

More than eleven years ago, when I was facing an aggressive cancer diagnosis, kindness, patience, empathy, understanding, and positivity became my pillars. Not because life was gentle, but because it wasn’t. They were how I survived. How I moved forward when fear was louder than hope.

I carried those pillars with me long after treatment ended. Into my relationships. My work. The way I try to move through the world. I’ve always believed that what you put out is what comes back to you.

But this past year, the political environment has tested that belief in ways I didn’t expect.

There were nights I turned off the news and sat in silence, wondering how to keep choosing kindness when it felt so heavy. Watching people show up to protect their neighbors. Watching strangers check on one another. Watching others lose their lives while leading with care. And at the same time, watching cruelty, violence, and indifference feel louder than empathy.

It’s hard to reconcile how kindness can exist alongside so much harm.

It’s hard to understand how patience and empathy are treated like weaknesses instead of necessities. It’s hard to find your place when doing the right thing feels exhausting, and silence feels tempting.

But here’s what I know to be true, even now.

You can lead with kindness and still be angry.

You can be furious about injustice and still choose empathy. You can demand a better world without losing your humanity. Kindness does not mean silence. It does not mean backing down. And it does not mean accepting harm.

Anger is not the problem. What we do with it is.

Anger must become action.

Action looks like voting.

It looks like speaking up when it would be easier to stay quiet.

It looks like protecting the people next to you.

It looks like refusing to let dehumanization go unchecked, even in small moments, even in uncomfortable conversations.

Our part is not violence.

Our part is not causing harm in response to harm.

And our part is not turning away.

Our part needs to be loud. It needs to be peaceful. And it needs to be rooted in the belief that we can exist together.

I still believe there are more people leading with kindness, patience, empathy, and understanding than those who are not. But belief alone isn’t enough anymore. Not in this moment. Not in this time.

Equality and equity cannot just be ideas we agree with. They have to be lived. Protected. Demanded. For everyone.

We lose our humanity the moment we lose kindness. We lose it when understanding is replaced with hatred. And we lose it when anger turns into destruction instead of direction.

So be angry. Let yourself feel it.

But don’t let it end there.

Let anger move you. Let it sharpen your purpose. Let it push you toward action that builds rather than breaks.

Kindness isn’t weakness. It’s strength with purpose.

And it’s how we move forward without losing ourselves.

Remember...Be Kind. Do More Good. We Got This.