I am Charlie
In the shadow of Charlie Kirk's senseless murder, a beacon of open dialogue was extinguished. This piece honors his legacy, condemns the vile celebrations of his death, and urges us all to step up.
The news hit like a thunderclap last week: Charlie Kirk, the fiery conservative activist and founder of Turning Point USA, was gunned down while speaking at Utah Valley University in Orem, Utah.
In the days since, as the nation grapples with this senseless act of violence, I've found myself reflecting deeply on Charlie's life and legacy. He wasn't just a voice in the conservative movement; he was a bridge-builder in an era of deepening divides. And yet, in the wake of his death, we've seen the ugliest side of our polarized society—people celebrating his murder, twisting his words to justify the unthinkable. Charlie Kirk embodied the power of open dialogue. He spent years crisscrossing college campuses, not to shout down opponents, but to engage them head-on. His "open mic" sessions were legendary: students from all walks of life could challenge him on everything from socialism to cultural issues, and he welcomed it.
He debated Democratic socialists at Turning Point USA events, sparring with ideas he disagreed with while treating his interlocutors with respect. Charlie believed in the marketplace of ideas, that truth emerges from debate, not censorship or violence.
He was the guy who'd sit down with you over coffee—or in a packed auditorium—and hash out why he thought conservatism offered a better path forward, all while listening to your counterpoints. In a world quick to cancel, Charlie was willing to converse. That's what got him killed: a man murdered for daring to speak and listen in equal measure. But look at how he's being portrayed now by those who've taken to social media to celebrate his death. They're painting him as a hate-monger, a provocateur who "deserved" it—twisting his critiques of progressive policies into evidence of bigotry.
Posts flood X and other platforms, calling him a "lowlife dirtbag" who "got what he deserved," ignoring the thousands of young people he inspired to think critically and get involved.
It's a grotesque distortion, one that excuses murder by demonizing and or dehumanizing the victim. These voices aren't mourning a life cut short; they're reveling in it, as if silencing Charlie through bullets achieves what arguments couldn't.
This hits close to home for me. For over a decade, I've been knee-deep in grassroots politics across the Midwest, working with the Convention of States Project to push for an Article V convention to limit federal overreach. I've given speeches in town halls from Kansas to Michigan, hosted rallies that drew hundreds of everyday folks tired of D.C. gridlock, and poured my energy into education and organizing. During the COVID lockdowns, I founded "Open Up Kansas," a coalition that mobilized 12,000 plus businesses, parents, and workers to challenge the draconian orders shutting down our state. We petitioned, PEACEFULLY protested, and pressured officials until Kansas reopened for business—proving that ordinary people can drive real change through persistence and dialogue.
I took Charlie’s strategy and appreciated his approach: not retreat, but engagement. We need more Charlies—folks unafraid to step into the arena, debate fiercely, and build coalitions across divides. His death isn't just a loss for conservatives; it's a blow to anyone who values free speech and civil discourse. In the week since, I've had a steady stream of private messages and calls from people who vote but aren't politically active. Neighbors, friends, even strangers who've seen my work: "What are we going to do now?" they ask. "What happens next?" They're scared, disillusioned, wondering if speaking out makes you a target. Charlie's murder has awakened something in them—a realization that silence isn't safety, but neither is violence. It's a call to step up, to honor his legacy by getting involved.
Tragically, some of those celebrating this horror are in positions of trust: educators and public officials. In Cobb County, Georgia, multiple teachers were placed on leave after posting gleefully about Charlie's death on social media. At Clemson University, two professors were suspended and an employee fired for mocking the assassination. An assistant professor at the University of Tennessee faces termination for her comments. These aren't anonymous trolls; they're the very people shaping young minds or sworn to protect us, condoning murder because they disagree with a man's politics. It's chilling, and it erodes the fabric of our society.
Let me be clear: murder is wrong in all cases. No ideology justifies taking a life, and anyone openly condoning or celebrating these actions are free to do so, but also should not be in a position of public trust. Those who celebrate it or condone such behavior—whether in a classroom, a government office, or online—must be shunned from polite society. They poison the well of discourse, turning debate into bloodshed. We can't let Charlie's death be in vain. Let's commit to more conversations, not violence; more bridges, not barriers. I am Charlie—not in his eloquence, but in his spirit. And if you're reading this, I hope you are too.
- David Schneider