The Price of Silence
“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.” — First Amendment of the United States Constitution
I think about the First Amendment a lot. Probably more than most people, excluding some lawyers, judges, and constitutional experts. I think about all of the amendment, as this incredibly well-put-together opening negotiation with the document to which we pledge our allegiance. They point you at the flag, but what we really pledge our allegiance to in this nation is this Constitution. This imperfect document that allows itself to be improved upon towards that pursuit. A more perfect union.
I think about how fragile it all is. How it’s really just a piece of paper, molding in a case behind bulletproof glass. How it’s really just the theory of those words, upheld and actioned by we, the people. We start saying this pledge in schools and at events before we can actually read the document. Some never will. Some can’t read, and they have to rely on the people who can, to interpret it in the right way. But what it truly is, is a shared and mutual understanding of the law and our rights within it.
Our very lives depend upon the ability of our government to protect us. We forego our need to walk around the streets with rifles and tanks, trusting that the state will provide those measures, should they become necessary. In return, we are the beneficiaries of certain inalienable rights, also protected by the state. That is what all of those weapons are for; so we can live our lives in pursuit of happiness.
I am burdened by a terrible sadness because of the First Amendment. In our modern era and things being how they are, I have suspended my First Amendment rights. As with many positions requiring work with a broad population of people, as well as public scrutiny of any opinion shared in public, as well as an undeniable sense of anxiety and dread, I have hung up the First Amendment like a gun at the door, because of how it could all very well blow up in my face. Such is the danger of our discourse that any opinion counter to the current administration could lead to unknown reprisal. Being fired is one of the lesser punishments one should consider when sharing unfiltered opinions on social media. That information is being reported. Somewhere. Surely.
I think about these things, these rights, and their value. When you get into those weeds, it can get treacherous. I think about a dollar amount, for the price of my silence. Can we give you $10 to shut up about the truth? What about $100? What about your job? What about your house? What about a million dollars? How about a bazillion dollars for you to keep your opinion to yourself, about Trump, Musk, Bezos, and Zuckerberg? How much for the NDA that silences your truth? Yet today, before writing this, in my heart, I can’t find a dollar figure. I keep exploring around, to see if anything is worth giving up the right to speak my truth-to power and otherwise.
I think about dying in war, and these people blown to pieces on foreign fields, and if you could suddenly be there, to ask what they were dying for, what would they say? If I were that person, blown apart and dying, would I be able to get the first amendment out in time? I think about these people who died, trying to protect my rights. I think about them often with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and awe.
I think a lot about the people who fought and died to amend that piece of paper. To end slavery, grant equality, and provide civil rights. I think about how many laid down their lives to protect my right to free speech. It occurs to me that it is as much a responsibility as a right. These protections are a gift to future generations to protect for even further generations. These gifts have come too far to be trampled by fear. These protections have taken too many lives to be abandoned to apathy. These rights are too important to surrender to tyranny.
I think about buying a gun, but I also believe in God. It’s a rough place to be for a believer, particularly with kids in the house. Especially with the Godsnake Quetzoquaddle. I have certain knowledge and some belief, and a large portion of that combination points towards this life being a test of some kind. Perhaps a great many tests, all overlapping and interacting. I think about buying a gun, but then I think about my God watching over me, and my shame keeps me away. My fear is that among the testing, that purchase would cross a threshold over which there would be no return. My faith tells me that my God loves me and will protect me more than a gun ever could.
I think about the First Amendment, and how if this one amendment actually worked, you likely wouldn’t need the Second. But I also think about all of the people who claim to believe in God owning so many guns. That worries me.
I think a revolution against tyranny does not require bloodshed. I think it can be won by a single voice speaking the truth to power. I think even one person refusing to be silent forces the system to either acknowledge the truth or expose its own corruption in attempting to silence it. History is filled with those who spoke and changed everything: the dissidents, the whistleblowers, the prophets, the poets. The despot’s greatest weapon is not violence or deception-it’s silence. Silence keeps power unchallenged. Silence allows injustice to root itself deep. Silence is surrender. But words of truth-spoken, written, shouted, and sung-are the great undoing of tyrants.
“Run to and fro through the streets of Jerusalem, look and take note! Search her squares to see if you can find a man, one who does justice and seeks truth, that I may pardon her.” — Jeremiah 5:1
Originally published at http://www.gonzotheater.com on February 11, 2025.
