Renee Good & The American Me

Dear The American Me,

I have watched the Renee Good video, from every angle, more times than I should ever have to witness the taking of someone’s life. I have been watching it, not because I am deeply impacted by this tragedy, but because I am trying to see if my political biases have been confirmed. Or if I will have to suspend my own reasoning to justify the outcome because of how I voted.

I have allowed my allegiance to my political party to make me apathetic towards the loss of life — that is, if the loss of life is someone from the opposite end of the political spectrum.

I no longer watch the news to find out what’s going on in the world. I now watch the news to validate the moral high ground I have placed myself and my political party on by only entertaining news outlets and influencers who already agree with my presuppositions. I only briefly watch 30-second clips of the other guys, taken out of context, to remind myself of how stupid they are.

I then point the finger at those whom I consider the opposition and wonder to myself why they can’t just “be human.”

And there lies my fatal flaw.

I have placed the idea of “being human” on a moral pedestal of my own choosing — one that “being human” does not belong to. The truth is, if I have to ask the question “why can’t you just be human?” to someone I disagree with, that means subconsciously I believe that they aren’t my definition of human. If I have to tell someone to be something, that means I believe they aren’t that thing.

In my eyes, whether I realize it or not, they have become sub-human.

“Charlie Kirk deserved what he got because of what he said.”

“Renee Good deserved what she got because of what she did.”

They were sub-human because I disagree with them putting themselves in the line of fire for beliefs that conflict with mine.

Why don’t the deaths of their people bother me? Why is it only the deaths of my people that bother me?

Is it because I have created a false dichotomy between “my” people and “their” people?

It’s because “their” people not only aren’t “my” people — they aren’t people at all.

That being said, I wonder… what if the outcome of the Renee Good killing was different? What if instead of her being killed by the ICE officer, she ran him over with her SUV and he died? What if she intentionally ran him over in protest against an organization that is directly connected with a political party that I hate? Or even if she did so accidentally.

Would I feel differently about the loss of life?

Yes, I would.

Because a real human being wouldn’t join ICE. That’s not something real human beings do. Anyone who joins an organization like that deserves what’s coming to them.

Or maybe I’m glad the way this went down. I’m glad that one of these libs finally learned their lesson. You do not interfere with law enforcement operations. They have been getting away with protecting criminals and hating law enforcement for far too long. FAFO.

Self-righteous apathy is a hell of a drug. And I am so addicted to it.

I know the greatest of all teachers once said to love our enemies, but He never told us to love the ones I deem sub-human.

I know He said to honor my father and mother, but my father and mother are stuck in the past and support a man I hate.

I know He said to pray for those who persecute me, but they aren’t only persecuting me — they’re threatening my vision of the world.

I know He said that hatred in the heart is the equivalent of committing murder, but I’ve never pulled a trigger — though I am secretly satisfied when somebody else does.

I know He said that what comes out of the heart is what defiles a man, but I’m justified in my apathy when a sub-human life is taken.

I know He warned about calling evil good and good evil, but that only applies when they do it — not me.

I am justified in placing myself above others. I am justified because the stupid mistakes I have made in life haven’t been seen by the entire world. I am justified in my apathy because I am right and they are wrong.

And I didn’t arrive here on my own. I’ve fed myself a steady diet of outrage, fear, and selective facts — packaged as news, marketed as truth, and delivered straight to my screen. I call it “staying informed,” but most of the time it’s just propaganda that agrees with me.

I’ve been trained to see enemies instead of neighbors, threats instead of people, and narratives instead of lives. Not because I was forced to — but because I welcomed it. Because it told me who to hate, when to care, and when a death was justified by context.

But if I’m being honest — which I barely ever am with myself — the truth is, I don’t want truth. I want victory. I don’t want justice. I want my side to win and my conscience to stay intact while it happens.

So I carve the world into tribes. I assign humanity based on alignment. I excuse death when it’s inconvenient and demand outrage when it reaffirms my worldview. I call it nuance. I call it realism. I call it being informed.

But it’s not.

It’s fear dressed up as conviction. It’s pride masquerading as moral clarity. It’s hatred disguised by good marketing.

And the scariest part isn’t that I’ve been politicized.

It’s that I’ve baptized it.

I’ve taken something ugly and convinced myself it’s righteous. I’ve traded compassion for correctness. I’ve confused being right with being good. And I’ve convinced myself that as long as I’m on the “right side,” I don’t have to examine what’s happening to my soul.

Because if I’m honest, this isn’t about Renee Good. It isn’t about ICE. It isn’t about Charlie Kirk.

It’s about me.

It’s about how easily I can watch a life end and ask the wrong question. Not “what has this done to us?” But “did my side win?”

And if that question doesn’t haunt me, then maybe the real tragedy isn’t that someone died.

Maybe it’s that I’m slowly forgetting how to see people as human at all.

Sincerely,

The American Me