We the People…Should be Ashamed

Let’s skip the polite throat-clearing and get straight to it: America should be ashamed.

Ashamed of the way we treat the poor. Ashamed of the way we treat the sick. Ashamed of how we treat immigrants, veterans, teachers, children, the planet, and the truth itself. Ashamed of the willful ignorance we elevate, the cruelty we excuse, and the hollow patriotism that waves flags while stomping on the very values it pretends to honor.

We should be ashamed that in the year 2025, a child born in Mississippi has a higher chance of dying in infancy than one born in parts of Eastern Europe still clawing their way back from decades of dictatorship and economic collapse. We should be ashamed that we trail behind dozens of “third world” countries when it comes to education, life expectancy, and maternal health. But sure, let’s keep telling ourselves we’re “number one.” We lead the world in military spending and mass shootings. So hooray for us.

We should be ashamed that book bans are not only back, but spreading like wildfire, cheered on by politicians who wouldn’t recognize Orwell even if they deported him back to the UK. That historical whitewashing is now a political strategy, where uncomfortable truths are airbrushed out of classrooms in the name of “protecting children.” That science, once the engine of American progress, is now treated like an optional belief system, where facts are up for debate depending on which cable news channel you happen to watch. That fascism has been repackaged as “common sense,” and that the slow, steady erosion of democracy is brushed off as “just asking questions.”

We should be ashamed that the loudest, most influential voices in America belong not to visionaries or builders, but to grifters and bullies. That in a country of more than 300 million people, we once again elevated a man whose entire persona is a cocktail of narcissism, hate and legal threats. And worse—far worse—that millions of our fellow citizens saw that train wreck in a suit and decided that was exactly what America needed. That somehow, the best cure for a national crisis of character was a man constitutionally incapable of displaying any.

We should be ashamed that religion, once a source of compassion and justice, is now wielded like a cudgel to divide and punish. That corporations are treated with more reverence than living, breathing human beings. That conspiracy theories—no matter how ludicrous—spread faster than facts and sink deeper into the national consciousness. Once there they calcify into “truths” that no amount of actual evidence can dislodge.

We should be ashamed that we define “freedom” as the right to do whatever we want, no matter the consequences. Freedom to pollute, to defraud, to spread hate and lies, to hoard wealth while our neighbors starve. In a country of staggering riches, we still allow people to sleep on sidewalks, to skip meals, to die from easily treatable illnesses because staying alive is a luxury they can’t afford. But by all means, let’s keep slashing taxes for billionaires and calling it “economic freedom.”

We should be ashamed that, faced with climate catastrophe, crumbling civil rights, rising authoritarianism, and mounting inequality, our national instinct is to scroll past it. To shrug. To move on. We know it’s happening. We see it every day. But caring would require action, and action requires effort, and so, more often than not, we do nothing.

We should be ashamed that the richest, most powerful country in human history still can’t guarantee basic rights—like healthcare, clean water, safe schools—to all its citizens. That we treat public goods like luxuries, reserved for those born into the right zip codes or the right tax brackets.

Ashamed. But not surprised.

Because shame requires self-awareness. And if there’s one thing modern America lacks—besides universal healthcare and a functioning democracy—it’s a mirror. We’re a nation that talks endlessly about accountability, but breaks into a cold sweat at the first hint of introspection. How’s the old saying go? We have met the enemy, and he is us.

The American experiment was never supposed to be easy. It was always going to require vigilance, sacrifice, and a willingness to change. Somewhere along the way, we traded those difficult virtues for slogans, scapegoats, and stubborn denial.

But here’s the thing: there is still hope. It’s not too late. Shame, properly channeled, can be a catalyst. We can still choose to be better. To recognize the gap between what we say we believe and how we actually live—and then to close it.

But first, we have to admit it:

We should be ashamed.