Dear America 2025: My Annual Letter

My annual reflection recounting memory, discord, and the quiet strength of democracy.

Dear America,

Few of us think beyond the passing days and weeks. Perhaps it’s the constant overdose of content cluttering our minds. If we didn’t live it, by definition, it isn’t lodged in memory. I don’t recall the assassination of President John F. Kennedy—I was born three decades later. My grandmother doesn’t remember the hardship of the Great Depression; she was born in 1948, on the cusp of modern American power.

Unlike our personal memories, our collective memory is long, messy, and deeply layered.

At a time when the very truths of our history are being challenged or rewritten, remembering the factual events—both admirable and ugly—that we’ve encountered across 249 years is essential not just to our survival, but to our prosperity. 

The truth is, we’ve never fully agreed on our future.

The American Civil War tore our country in half to confront and outlaw the evil of slavery. The balance of state and federal power has long stirred debate. Even our founders—Jefferson and Hamilton among them—argued over whether an agrarian or industrial economy best suited our national aspirations.

For generations, our predecessors read the papers and debated the major events of their time. Today’s divisions feel deep, perhaps irreparable. But maybe that’s because we’ve forgotten that in most eras before us, Americans likely felt the same way. They worried the political gulf was widening. They hesitated to speak with neighbors for fear of disagreement. They feared the country they loved wouldn't endure for future generations.

In other words, this moment isn't an anomaly—it’s a part of our process.

The last two decades have tested our democratic muscles in ways that feel punishing. The whiplash of extreme perspectives inevitably finds balance over time and moves—slowly—toward progress. Democracy was never designed to be easy, linear, or polite. It was meant to be messy, fiercely debated, and ultimately driven by the people.

To expect every electoral win is to indulge ego. The push and pull of our governance is not a failure—it’s the pulse of the American experiment. And despite how broken we may feel, our tradition of democracy has endured, and will continue to do so.

This Fourth of July—one year before we mark 250 years of independence—make space to celebrate what gives you gratitude, acknowledge what demands improvement, and recommit to the idea that our role in shaping this country is not without challenge… but it is a sacred right all the same.

Your neighbor and fellow American,

Danny