Earlier in my life, I visited a house where an American hero grew up. It’s down a secluded street on the wrong side of a port town, where everything is grey. The clouds in the sky and the rain that falls from them; the water in the harbor, and the ships that float within; the streets and the cars that drive them; the houses and the people that reside in them. This house is no different. I’m sure it was once white, but no longer. Now, it might just be my imagination, but it’s the same greyed out color as everything else. The house feels crammed in between its neighbors, who in turn are crammed in next to theirs, and so on and so forth for this entire secluded little neighborhood. Walking down this street, you feel trapped, suffocated by the sheer greyness of it all.

The first time I visited Charlottesville was on May 4th of this year, a date that for many of you will no doubt have some significance. From the moment I stepped onto grounds, I was thrust into a spectacle of expression—a vivid reminder of the freedoms that define this place and, in many ways, the country its

Today, it seems that one wrong decision could end our democracy as we know it. And many of us experience the terrifying thought: What can I do? How can an ordinary American like me overcome the extraordinary and breathe new life into democracy? Before the panic sets in, I want to reassure you: It’s not as terrifying as it may seem. In truth, this isn’t the first time America has faced our democratic world teetering on a knife’s edge: the Civil War split families but gave us another chance to remedy long-held wrongs; and when the Twin Towers came crashing down, just a quarter century ago, with fear and loss emanating from the former symbols of American prosperity, we came together, hand in hand, heart in heart!

A school principal once decided to teach a mischievous student a lesson. In the early 1900s, that meant sending him to the basement to read the U.S. Constitution