It's a Distraction

If it pulls us away from food, shelter, care, and learning, it’s a distraction.

That’s the measure, the anchor, and the line everything else must cross to matter.

If it pulls us away from food, shelter, care, and learning, it’s a distraction.

Democracy begins with people who are well enough to participate.

People who are fed.

People who are housed.

People who can see a doctor before it’s an emergency.

People who can learn, question, and understand the world they are being asked to vote in.

Food. Shelter. Care. Learning.

Acts of war,

political drama—

anything that pulls us away from food, shelter, care, and learning

is a distraction designed to put the people at odds

while a handful of greed-mongers pillage

the world’s wealth and resources.

A starving population does not rule itself.

A sick population does not rule itself.

An unhoused population does not rule itself.

An uneducated population does not rule itself.

Humans living under duress can only scramble, react, and survive.

The well-being of the people is what strengthens the rule of the people.

Everything else rests on that ground—

or collapses without it.

If it pulls us away from food, shelter, care, and learning, it’s a distraction.

We are surrounded by noise that feels urgent.

Endless crises.

Endless outrage.

Endless arguments about who deserves what,

who caused what,

who should be blamed for what,

while the basics remain negotiable,

delayed,

debated,

conditioned.

If it pulls us away from food, shelter, care, and learning, it’s a distraction.

There is nothing radical about ensuring the basics.

A democracy cannot be strong if its people are not well.

A democracy cannot endure if participation is reserved for those who can afford to survive.

Food. Shelter. Care. Learning.

These are the conditions that make self-government possible.

These are the conditions your children and grandchildren deserve.

If it pulls us away from food, shelter, care, and learning, it’s a distraction.

We do not need to agree on everything to agree on this.

We do not need perfect unity.

We do not need the same stories or values or fears.

We need a shared commitment to the ground beneath us.

When people are well, they can argue honestly.

They can disagree without breaking.

They can see past spectacle and choose substance.

They can succeed and thrive by their own merit.

That is what democracy could and should look like.

Every soul in our nation deserves the basics—

not withheld or granted by would-be nobility,

when we already have enough to go around.

If it pulls us away from food, shelter, care, and learning, it’s a distraction.

Everything else can wait.