Friday, April 4, 2025

The Power of a Life List: Crafting a Roadmap to a Rich and Rewarding Life

The Power of a Life List: Crafting a Roadmap to a Rich and Rewarding Life

Introduction: Why Drift Through Life When You Can Soar?

Life has a strange way of moving fast and slow all at once. One day, you’re dreaming about the future, and the next, you’re wondering where the years went. We wake up, go through the motions, pay bills, attend meetings, raise families, take vacations, deal with setbacks, and before we know it, decades have passed. The truth is, without direction, life tends to drift. Without intention, we find ourselves busy but not fulfilled, active but not advancing, present but not passionate. The key to unlocking a richer, more rewarding experience isn’t complicated—it starts with a list.

Not just any list. A life list.

A life list is a written (or typed) collection of specific, meaningful goals, dreams, and accomplishments you want to achieve during your lifetime. It's not just about wild adventures or ticking off exotic travel destinations—though those can certainly be on it. A life list includes personal milestones, professional aspirations, skills you want to learn, relationships you want to build or mend, fears you want to overcome, and contributions you want to make. It's your personal blueprint for a meaningful life.

Imagine walking into a bookstore without knowing what you want to read. You might wander aimlessly through the aisles, overwhelmed by the choices, unsure what speaks to you. Contrast that with someone who walks in holding a list of books they’ve been dying to explore. They go straight to the sections that matter most, full of excitement and purpose.

That’s what a life list does for you. It focuses your energy, your passion, and your decisions. It gives you clarity. It gives you drive. It becomes your personal compass, pointing you toward growth and joy.

Think about the best moments in your life—the ones that filled you with pride, satisfaction, and excitement. Were they accidents? Rarely. They were usually the result of effort, planning, or a long-held desire finally realized. A life list is your commitment to creating more of those moments on purpose. It’s your proactive stand against a passive life.

A life list isn’t about pressure or perfection. It’s not a race against time or a metric to measure your worth. It’s a celebration of possibilities. It’s a declaration of your willingness to live with intention.

In a world that constantly distracts us with noise, obligations, and other people’s expectations, your life list is your whisper from within—your reminder that your life is yours to live. Richly. Boldly. Joyfully.

How to Create a Life List: Start with the Heart

So how do you begin this rewarding journey? Start simple. Start honest. Start now.

1.     Reflect Deeply
What excites you? What challenges you? What makes you curious? Think about the things you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t yet. Think about what kind of person you want to become. Your answers are already within you.

2.     Write It Down
Don’t just keep your life list in your head. Put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard. Make it real. Name it. Date it. Title it proudly: “My Life List.”

3.     Include Categories
Break it down into areas like:

o    Travel & Adventure

o    Career & Education

o    Relationships & Family

o    Personal Growth

o    Health & Wellness

o    Spirituality & Faith

o    Community & Contribution

o    Creativity & Hobbies

4.     Be Specific, But Stay Flexible
“Travel more” is vague. “Visit Machu Picchu” is specific. The clearer you are, the more motivated you’ll be. And remember, your life list isn’t carved in stone. It will grow and evolve as you do.

5.     Set Short-Term and Long-Term Goals
Balance your list with dreams that take years and those you can start this month. Progress builds momentum.

6.     Review It Often
Keep your list where you can see it. Revisit it quarterly. Add to it. Cross things off. Celebrate your wins. Reflect on your growth.

7.     Share It (If You Want)
Sometimes, sharing your goals with trusted friends or family makes them feel more real. You may even find support or partners to help you achieve them.

Conclusion: Living With Intention, Leaving With No Regrets

What would your life look like if you took the time to plan the things that truly matter to you? If instead of letting days pass in a blur, you lived with purpose? That’s the power of a life list. It helps you rise above routine and reach for the exceptional.

A life list is not just about achieving. It’s about becoming. It’s about pushing beyond fear, mediocrity, and excuses. It's about finally learning to play the piano, writing that novel you’ve always talked about, running a marathon, seeing the Northern Lights, starting a nonprofit, or simply saying "I love you" more often. It’s about tasting life’s richness instead of watching from the sidelines.

And when the seasons of your life shift, when your hair grays and your steps slow, you’ll look back not with regret but with gratitude. You’ll remember the adventures, the growth, the love, and the lessons. You’ll know you didn’t just exist—you lived.

Life lists are a way of honoring our one precious life. They are bold statements of belief that our dreams matter. They remind us that while we may not control how long we live, we absolutely control how well we live.

So take the leap. Make your life list. Then start living it—one meaningful step at a time. You’ll be amazed how rich and rewarding your life becomes when you give it the direction it deserves.

 

Different Outside, Same Inside: A Heartwarming Tale of Friendship and Acceptance

Different Outside, Same Inside

A Heartwarming Tale of Friendship and Acceptance

A Story by Bill Conley

In a bright and cheerful meadow where the wildflowers reached toward the sky and the breeze danced between blades of grass lived a lively group of young animals who were the best of friends.

Every day was a celebration. Benny the Bear, with his soft, chocolate-colored fur, was the biggest and cuddliest of the bunch. Lily the Lamb was as fluffy as a cloud, her white wool glowing under the sun. Coco the Cat, sleek and quiet, had the blackest fur anyone had ever seen—like midnight wrapped in velvet. Sunny the Lion Cub shimmered gold, his mane already starting to catch the sun’s rays. And Poppy the Piglet, always twirling and bouncing, was round, pink, and full of joy.

They climbed trees, raced through fields, splashed in streams, and played until their little legs could carry them no more. Every creature in the meadow was welcome. Every color, every shape, every sound.

One sunny afternoon, as they played their favorite game of "Meadow Tag," something changed. Coco suddenly slowed down, her usually bright eyes dimmed. She sat on a soft patch of moss, her head hanging low.

“I’m not having fun,” Coco whispered.

The others stopped and gathered around her, surprised.

“Why not?” asked Lily gently.

Coco looked at her paws and said, “My fur is so dark—so different from all of you. I can’t help but wonder… do I really belong?”

The meadow grew quiet. Benny scratched his head, confused.

“I’m brown all over,” he said slowly, “but Lily’s white. And you’re darker than me. Do our colors change who we are?”

The friends looked at one another, puzzled for the first time. They’d never thought about their differences that way.

Sunny the Lion Cub flicked his golden tail. “I’m the color of sunshine,” he said thoughtfully.

“And I’m pink like a rose!” squealed Poppy, tapping her dancing feet. “But I still have two ears and a super wiggly nose!”

The friends started to frown. Had their differences always been there, and they just hadn’t noticed? Were they supposed to matter?

Just then, with a gentle whoosh, Miss Owl glided down from her favorite tree. Wise and kind, she always seemed to arrive at just the right time.

“Why such serious faces?” she asked, tilting her head and blinking her big, knowing eyes.

The young animals explained their worries. How their fur colors didn’t match. How that might mean they didn’t fit together.

Miss Owl gave them a warm smile. “Oh, my dears,” she said, “come close. I have something special to show you.”

From under her wing, she pulled out a small wooden box, worn smooth by time. Inside were heart-shaped stickers of every color—red, blue, green, yellow, white, and black. They sparkled in the sunlight.

“Take one each,” she instructed. “Place it over your heart.”

The animals eagerly picked their stickers and pressed them gently over their chests.

“Now,” said Miss Owl, “can you still feel your heart beating? Does it still feel full of love?”

The friends giggled and nodded. Even Coco, with a dark midnight-blue heart sticker, felt her heart thumping with joy.

“You see,” Miss Owl said softly, “our outsides may look different, but our hearts—where kindness, love, and friendship live—are just the same.”

Sunny raised a paw and gave it a little shake. “I feel a tickle in my tummy and love in my chest!” he exclaimed.

The others laughed, their sadness melting away like morning dew.

“But how do we know where kindness comes from?” Poppy asked, still curious.

“Does it wear shoes?” Benny wondered aloud.

“Or a fancy hat?” Lily added with a giggle.

Miss Owl laughed, too. “Kindness doesn’t wear anything at all. It doesn’t come from fur, feathers, or fins. Kindness starts in your soul. It grows in your heart.”

The young animals nodded, the message settling deep inside.

“Judge with your heart, not just with your eyes,” Miss Owl said gently. “You’re not better or worse for the color of your skin—or fur, or feathers. What matters most is the heart beating inside.”

That day, the friends decided to create something special. They painted a giant mural on the side of a rock wall near their meadow. Using their paws, hooves, and even noses, they stamped it with prints in every color—red, yellow, black, brown, white, and golden.

Across the top, they wrote in big, bold letters:
“Different Outside, Same Inside.”

And from that day forward, no one in the meadow ever worried about how they looked. They knew the truth. Love doesn’t come in colors, and friendship doesn’t care about shapes.

They ran, played, danced, and dreamed—together, always. Just happy to be.

The moral of the story: No matter what we look like on the outside, it's what's inside our hearts that truly matters. Real friendship is built on love, kindness, and understanding—not on fur color, size, or shape. Everyone has the same need to feel accepted, included, and valued. When we celebrate our differences and focus on what unites us, the world becomes a much happier place.

Thursday, April 3, 2025

The Playground on Maple Hill - Where Every Child Belongs and Friendship Has No Shade

The Playground on Maple Hill - Where Every Child Belongs and Friendship Has No Shade

Written by Bill Conley

There was a little town nestled between two hills, with winding sidewalks, friendly neighbors, and one very special playground. It sat at the top of Maple Hill, just past the bakery and across from the library. Every day after school, the children of Maple Hill would race up the slope, laughing, skipping, and dragging scooters and jump ropes behind them.

They came from all over town. Some had straight hair, some had curly hair. Some wore braids with beads that clicked when they ran. Some had skin as dark as rich soil, others as light as snow. Some had freckles, dimples, or glasses that slipped down their noses.

But none of that mattered at the playground.

To the children, there were only names—Tyler, Amara, Sofia, Mateo, Lily, and Isaiah. There were tag teams and swing partners, buddies for the teeter-totter and builders for the sandbox. There were big laughs and scraped knees and someone always willing to help you up.

Nobody said, “You’re too different.”
Nobody said, “You don’t belong.”
At the top of Maple Hill, everyone belonged.

One day, a new girl came to town. Her name was Amina. She had big brown eyes, a bright yellow dress, and a shy smile. She held her mother’s hand tightly as they stood near the playground fence.

Amina watched the children laugh and climb and run. She didn’t look like all of them. Her skin was a warm, rich brown, and her hair was pulled into two long braids with bright ribbons at the ends. She felt nervous—wondering if she would fit in.

Just then, a boy with sandy hair and grass-stained jeans noticed her.

“Hi!” he said cheerfully, running over. “I’m Tyler. Do you want to play pirates with us?”

Amina’s eyes widened. “Me?”

“Of course you!” he said, grinning. “You can be the captain if you want. We need someone to steer the ship.”

Amina let go of her mom’s hand and nodded.

From that moment on, she was part of the crew.

The children played for hours. They climbed the jungle gym and pretended it was a ship. They took turns being captain and lookout, and when they dug in the sandbox, they called it treasure hunting. Amina had never laughed so much in her life.

The next day, she came back with a kite she had made herself. It was decorated with bold colors and swirly patterns that looked like her grandmother’s dresses. The children all gathered around.

“Whoa!” said Sofia. “That’s the coolest kite I’ve ever seen!”

“Can you show us how to make one?” asked Mateo.

And so Amina did.

She didn’t notice that her skin was a different color. And neither did the others.

They only noticed her laughter, her kindness, and the way she helped Isaiah up when he fell from the monkey bars. They noticed how fast she could run, how big her ideas were, and how she made everyone feel welcome.

One afternoon, while the kids were building a pretend castle out of sticks and leaves, two grown-ups sat nearby watching.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” said one mother, sipping her coffee.

“What is?” asked the other.

“They don’t see color,” she said softly. “They just see friends.”

And it was true. At the playground on Maple Hill, the children didn’t care about where someone came from or what they looked like. They only cared about who could build the tallest block tower, who could swing the highest, and who brought the best snacks.

One cloudy day, the sky threatened rain, and the parents called out, “Five more minutes!”

The kids groaned but quickly gathered under the big oak tree to finish their last game of hide-and-seek.

Sofia, who had long black hair and bright eyes, whispered to Amina, “You’re the best hider.”

Amina smiled. “You’re the best seeker.”

They giggled and high-fived.

As the rain began to fall in soft sprinkles, the children scattered, waving goodbye and promising to meet again tomorrow.

Amina ran back to her mom, her braids bouncing with every step.

“How was your day?” her mom asked.

“Perfect,” Amina said.

“Did you make friends?”

Amina nodded. “Lots of them. We built a spaceship, climbed the moon, and found pirate treasure.”

Her mom smiled. “That sounds like quite an adventure.”

Amina took her mother’s hand and looked back at the playground, now glistening in the rain.

“They don’t care what I look like, Mama,” she said. “They just like me.”

Her mother bent down and kissed her forehead.

“That’s the way it should be, sweetheart. That’s exactly the way it should be.”

The Moral to the Story: "The Playground on Maple Hill"

Children naturally see others for who they are, not for the color of their skin.
Their hearts are open, innocent, and full of love, offering friendship freely to all.
If adults watched children more closely, they’d remember how to love without judgment. The world becomes a better place when we see each other the way children do—with kindness, not color.

 

 

Wednesday, April 2, 2025

We Just See Friends - A Heartwarming Poem About the Way Children See with Love, Not Color

We Just See Friends - A Heartwarming Poem About the Way Children See with Love, Not Color

Written by Bill Conley

In a sunny little neighborhood on Maple Tree Lane,
Lived a bunch of bouncy kids who loved to run and play again and again.
There were hopscotch games on the sidewalk, scooters zooming past,
And giggles ringing in the air that always seemed to last.

Every morning, like clockwork, the kids would gather ‘round,
With backpacks, snacks, and sidewalk chalk to color up the ground.
There was Ella with her curly hair, and Jamal with the best high-five,
Luca told the silliest jokes, and Mei helped bugs survive.
Zara loved to twirl and dance, and Noah built the tallest towers—
Together, they could play pretend for hours and hours and hours.

They didn’t talk about skin or shade, or the way their hair would curl.
To them, the only thing that mattered was if you could twirl and whirl.
They didn’t say, “You’re different,” or “Why do you look like that?”
They said, “You’re fast at tag!” or “Let’s build a castle that’s flat!”

One afternoon, as clouds floated slow,
The kids all decided to put on a show.
With costumes from closets and a cardboard stage,
They worked all day like little pros at every age.

Ella played a doctor, Zara played a knight,
Jamal was a dragon who refused to give a fright.
Mei played the mayor, ruling with glee,
While Luca and Noah sold popcorn for free!

Parents came out with smiles and cheers,
Clapping and laughing and holding back tears.
Because watching their children, side by side,
Made them realize something deep inside.

The children didn’t notice skin that was light, brown, or dark.
They noticed who was kind, who shared, who made the best park.
They didn’t ask, “Where are you from?” or say, “You’re not like me.”
They just played pretend, climbed trees, and let each other be free.

After the show, little Ella asked her mom,
“Why were some grown-ups crying? Was something wrong with my song?”
Her mom hugged her close and smiled really wide,
“No, sweetheart, they were happy and full of pride.”

“You see,” she said, “some grown-ups forget what kids know—
That it doesn’t matter if your skin is dark or pale like snow.
Sometimes they get caught up in things they were taught,
And forget that love is something we’re born with—not bought.”

Ella blinked. “But we all just play… I don’t get it at all.
Jamal's my best friend because he helps me up when I fall.”
Her mom kissed her head and whispered, “Exactly, my dear.
The world would be better if every heart stayed as clear.”

The next day at school, the teacher brought a mirror.
She passed it around so the children could see clearer.
“What do you see?” she asked, holding it high.
Some said “my freckles,” others said “my eye.”

“Do you see your skin?” she gently asked.
A few nodded slowly, their curiosity unmasked.
“Does it tell you if someone is nice or mean?”
The class all laughed. “No! That’s the silliest thing we’ve ever seen!”

“Do you think you’d know someone’s heart from their nose?”
“No way!” said Zara. “That’s not how kindness grows.”
“Then remember,” said the teacher, her voice full of grace,
“What matters the most is a loving heart, not a face.”

Back on Maple Tree Lane, the children kept playing,
Spinning and skipping, giggling and swaying.
Their little world stayed bright and true,
A perfect rainbow made not of colors, but of you being you.

They held hands, shared snacks, and built forts so grand,
They worked side by side, lending each other a hand.
And though they looked different in many small ways,
They only saw friends in the games that they played.

Because children don’t see color—they see laughs, and love,
They see friends who twirl, and grass and sky above.
And if the world could see like they do each day,
We might just all learn how to love in that way.

The Moral to the Poem: "We Just See Friends"

Children don’t judge one another by skin color—they see laughter, kindness, and fun. Their friendships are built on trust, not appearance. They remind us that love is natural and prejudice is learned. When we view others through the eyes of a child, we see only the heart.

Tuesday, April 1, 2025

United We Stand, Divided by Design: Exposing the Evil of the Wedge Drivers - How Race-Baiters, Power-Hungry Politicians, and Cultural Manipulators Are Tearing Us Apart


United We Stand, Divided by Design: Exposing the Evil of the Wedge Drivers

How Race-Baiters, Power-Hungry Politicians, and Cultural Manipulators Are Tearing Us Apart

Introduction

There was a time—maybe not long ago—when kids from all walks of life ran through neighborhoods, laughed on playgrounds, and sat shoulder to shoulder in classrooms without the slightest concern for skin color, religion, or background. Children don’t see race. They don’t judge religion. They don’t count differences. They simply see a friend.

But somewhere along the way, they grow up. And that innocence? It’s replaced by suspicion. By anger. By division. And who teaches them this? Adults. Politicians. Media. Activists. Race-baiters. Self-appointed champions of “truth” who manipulate the narrative and pit one group against another for personal gain.

These wedge-drivers have found new ways to tear communities apart—not just with race, but with religion, gender, wealth, politics, and even COVID status. It’s no longer about love, unity, and shared goals—it’s about picking sides, pointing fingers, and fueling outrage.

The people behind this division are not heroes. They are not brave. They are not champions of justice. They are opportunists—using pain to gain power, and stoking fear to stay relevant. They are sowing hatred under the disguise of activism. These people are dangerous. And it’s time we call them what they are:

Evil.

Let’s name the wedges they use:

1.     Race – Turning color into a weapon.

2.     Religion – Using faith to divide rather than unite.

3.     Gender Identity – Pushing division instead of understanding.

4.     Political Affiliation – Framing opponents as enemies, not fellow citizens.

5.     Economic Class – Fueling envy and resentment between rich and poor.

6.     Geography/Culture – Making people believe coastal and rural values can’t coexist.

And here’s what these wedge-drivers have in common—five distinct characteristics:

1.     They manipulate emotion – especially fear, anger, and guilt.

2.     They generalize and stereotype – reducing people to labels.

3.     They refuse to engage in real dialogue – preferring outrage to solutions.

4.     They profit from division – financially, politically, or socially.

5.     They never promote forgiveness or healing – because unity is their enemy.

This article isn’t for the faint of heart. It’s for the person who’s sick of being pitted against their neighbor. It’s for the parent who wants their child to live in a world of love, not hate. It’s for the citizen who believes unity is possible—if we wake up, speak up, and stop falling for the lies.

The Wedges That Divide Us

1. Race: The Oldest and Most Abused Wedge

Race is the original sin of wedge politics. It's the most manipulated, exploited, and weaponized issue in America today. While genuine racism still exists and should always be condemned, race-baiters use isolated incidents to paint entire populations as villains or victims. The message is never unity. It’s blame. It's grievance. It's guilt.

The worst offenders are those who claim to be “anti-racist,” but operate under a thin veil of superiority, shaming others, demanding apologies for things they never did, and constantly seeking offense. Their goal isn’t equality—it’s power. And they’ve infected politics, education, media, and corporate culture with a toxic ideology that teaches children they are either oppressors or oppressed, solely based on the color of their skin.

Meanwhile, children on playgrounds continue to hold hands, play tag, and share snacks without ever asking, “What color are you?”

2. Religion: From Sacred to Political Tool

America was founded on freedom of religion, but today, it’s often used as a weapon to divide people. Politicians and activists demonize entire faiths for political points. Christianity is labeled hateful. Islam is painted as dangerous. Judaism is attacked through growing anti-Semitic rhetoric.

These wedge-drivers don’t care about your soul—they care about control. They twist belief into bigotry and try to silence faithful people by shaming them for what they believe. Instead of celebrating religious diversity and encouraging respect, they push division to stoke their agendas. When faith becomes a tool for politics rather than a bridge of peace, we all lose.

3. Gender and Identity Politics: Weaponizing Words

What used to be a discussion about equality and understanding has now turned into an all-out war over language, labels, and ideological purity. Children are told they must declare a gender, pick a pronoun, and accept confusing ideology before they even understand who they are.

Adults who question the narrative are called bigots, while wedge-drivers shout down anyone who disagrees. Their goal is not inclusion—it’s domination. They silence dissent, cancel opposition, and demand conformity. Real conversation is impossible when disagreement is treated as violence.

Meanwhile, young children on playgrounds don’t care about pronouns—they care about who brings the bubbles and who shares their crayons.

4. Politics: The Ultimate Dividing Line

Nothing drives a deeper wedge today than politics. The media has trained us to see anyone who votes differently as evil. Entire families have been torn apart. Friendships have ended. People are afraid to speak up, afraid to disagree.

Wedge-drivers in politics use fear to keep their base loyal. “If they win, your life is over,” they warn. “They’ll destroy the country.” This fear keeps people voting blindly, never asking questions, never demanding better. And worst of all, it keeps us from talking to each other, neighbor to neighbor, friend to friend, human to human.

5. Economic Class: The Envy Machine

We’re told that rich people are greedy and poor people are lazy. That corporations are evil and capitalism is oppression. These lies are drilled into minds by activists and politicians who have never built anything—but know how to tear everything down.

Instead of encouraging upward mobility and gratitude, wedge-drivers foster envy. They pit the struggling against the successful. They tax, regulate, and punish ambition, all while pretending to be “for the people.” And yet, the loudest voices screaming about inequality often live in mansions, fly private, and sip champagne while lecturing the rest of us.

Children don’t care who has the newest shoes. They care who shares their toys.

6. Geography and Culture: Red vs. Blue, Country vs. City

Somehow, Americans have been convinced that if you’re from a different part of the country, you must be ignorant, crazy, or out of touch. Coastal elites sneer at rural values. Rural folks distrust city dwellers. Politicians widen the gap, playing both sides.

Instead of learning from each other, we’re told to mock, dismiss, or fear the “other side.” This isn’t natural—it’s taught. It’s scripted. It’s strategic. Divide and conquer.

But when kids from the city and kids from the country meet at camp or a family BBQ, none of that matters. They find the same joy in playing catch, telling stories, and sharing marshmallows around a fire.

The 5 Characteristics of a Wedge Driver

1. They Manipulate Emotion

Wedge-drivers are emotional arsonists. They don’t want you to think—they want you to feel. Outrage, fear, guilt, anger—they light the fire and walk away. They want reactions, not reflection. And the more emotional you become, the more control they have over your beliefs and actions.

2. They Generalize Entire Groups

These people love to say things like, “All white people…” or “Every conservative…” or “Most men…” They lump entire populations into one category to make it easier to divide and conquer. But no group is all good or all bad. Human beings are complex—and wedge-drivers hate complexity because it weakens their narrative.

3. They Refuse Honest Dialogue

You can’t debate a wedge-driver. They’ll call you names, shame you, or accuse you of hate. Their ideas can’t survive honest conversation, so they avoid it at all costs. The moment you question them, you become the enemy. Real solutions are never the goal—control is.

4. They Profit From Division

Whether it’s political power, social influence, or actual money, these people gain something by keeping us angry. Outrage fuels donations. Division fuels votes. Fear sells books, clicks, and campaign speeches. And while you argue with your neighbor, they laugh all the way to the bank.

5. They Never Promote Forgiveness

Forgiveness is the ultimate threat to a wedge-driver. It heals. It unites. It ends the cycle. That’s why they never promote grace, redemption, or moving forward. They want pain to last forever because your pain is their power.

Conclusion

In the end, it’s not hard to see the damage. We’ve been divided—not by accident, but by design. The wedge-drivers—those race-baiters, agenda-pushers, political extremists, and self-righteous ideologues—have succeeded in poisoning the well of trust. They’ve pitted brother against brother, neighbor against neighbor, and even child against child. And they’ve done it while smiling in front of microphones, tweeting slogans of unity, and claiming to “fight for justice.” It’s a lie. All of it.

You want to know what real unity looks like? Go to a playground.

Go watch a group of children—white, Black, brown, tan, freckled, curly-haired, braided, barefoot—sharing sidewalk chalk, laughing under the sun, chasing each other with joy. They don’t care about gender ideology, tax brackets, or political affiliations. They don’t care what state you’re from, what God you worship, or how much money your parents make. They just see friends.

That’s how we were meant to live.

But the wedge-drivers couldn’t allow that. A united people is a powerful people. A forgiving people is a hopeful people. A people who see each other as brothers and sisters is a threat to those who need us divided. So they taught us to look with suspicion. They taught us to speak in labels. They taught us to sort and separate, not unite and celebrate.

And far too many of us believed them.

But here’s the truth—this country doesn’t have a race problem, a class problem, a religious problem, or a gender problem. It has a manipulation problem. A deception problem. A truth problem.

The manipulators—the wedge-drivers—aren’t solving anything. They’re profiting. They don’t want healing. They want headlines. They don’t want conversation. They want chaos. And every time we fall for it, every time we repost their outrage, every time we assume the worst in our neighbor based on some viral clip, we’re handing them more power.

So, what do we do?

We stop falling for it.

We stop assuming evil in those who think differently. We stop rewarding anger with applause. We stop letting the loudest voices on social media define what’s “right” or “wrong.” And we start looking to children—not as naïve, but as inspirations. They haven’t been corrupted yet. Their hearts are still pure. They still believe in kindness, inclusion, and fairness—not because someone told them to, but because it’s built into the human soul before society poisons it.

We must become like them again.

We must re-learn how to see people as individuals, not as representatives of some “group” we’re told to hate or fear. We must rediscover grace, the ability to forgive—not just for others, but for ourselves. We must turn off the voices that feed the division, whether it’s coming from the media, politics, academia, or pulpits.

If someone is constantly making you feel angry, guilty, scared, or ashamed—question their motive. If someone is labeling entire groups of people as “less than,” “oppressors,” or “enemies”—reject that poison. And if someone claims they’re fighting for love and justice, but all they spread is hate and judgment—turn away. Love is not loud. Truth doesn’t need a mob. And unity is never built on fear.

We need to raise children who aren’t told they are broken because of their skin. We need to teach them that disagreement isn’t hate. That mistakes don’t define you. That forgiveness is strength. That truth is not a weapon—but a light.

And we need to be the example.

Because unity isn’t a hashtag. It’s a way of life. It’s showing up. It’s listening. It’s laughing with someone who voted differently. It’s breaking bread with someone who worships differently. It’s raising our voices—not to shout each other down, but to lift each other up.

The wedge-drivers want us to believe we’re too far gone. That the fractures are too deep. That the bridges have burned. But they’re wrong.

Unity isn’t a dream. It’s a decision.

And if we’re brave enough—humble enough—to step away from the noise, silence the manipulators, and remember what it means to be human, we will take back what was stolen.

Our friendships.
Our communities.
Our country.
Our souls.

And when that day comes, the wedge-drivers will no longer have a place. Not in our hearts. Not in our schools. Not in our homes. And certainly not in our future.

Because we’ll finally remember what our children never forgot:

We are different. But we are not divided.