Hamilton Isn’t Just a Show - It’s a Mirror of Our Soul

A Family Day That Became Something More

I saw Hamilton about 6 days ago, and it’s still fresh in my head. I thought it would just be a good family day with music and laughter, singing along to the lines we all knew, watching my teen daughter glow as she belted her favorite ones. But it became something I can’t shake.

The founders weren’t perfect men, but they understood something timeless: the soul of America wasn’t in laws alone. It was in the courage to stand, to believe Providence was guiding them, and to risk everything for something bigger than themselves.

Violence and an Inflection Point

That truth feels heavier as I think about the violence our country has endured. The killing of Charlie Kirk. The murder of Melissa Hortman. And the countless other acts that have shaken our communities. I find myself asking whether this is an inflection point - a moment history will look back on as a turning?

Charlie Kirk was polarizing to some, but no one can deny this - he wasn’t neutral. He stepped into rooms where silence would’ve been easier. He debated, he argued, he spoke with conviction. And in the wake of his death, I keep thinking about the call he must have felt, the pull to speak, knowing it came with risk.

Charlie wasn’t reckless. He was courageous. And it cost him his life.

Burr’s Warning

There’s a line Aaron Burr's character sang that still lingers: “Don’t let them know what you’re against or what you’re for.” It’s not just a lyric, it’s a warning. Burr is remembered, but not for conviction. He is remembered for hesitation in a moment that demanded clarity. And I can’t help but wonder if our own time will be remembered the same way. Not forgotten, but defined by hesitation, by holding back when clarity was needed most. Silence doesn’t protect the soul of a nation. It hollows it out.

Conviction That Endures

That’s what I keep reflecting on after watching Hamilton. Burr’s warning leaves me considering how neutrality fades, while conviction, even costly conviction, endures.

As a man of faith, a father, and someone who has put his name on a ballot to serve this community, I feel that tension deeply. I reflect on what America makes possible when freedom is real. And when I think about my family and friends who are first- and second-generation immigrants, I see that same hunger, sacrifice, and determination woven into their stories too.

It unsettles me to see faith pushed aside, and schools shifting from building character to advancing ideology. These changes may not draw headlines like acts of violence do, but they shape the soul of a people in quieter ways, for better or for worse.

What This Moment Leaves Behind

The soul of a nation feels fragile in times like these. And as the violence continues, I find myself thinking less about the next headline and more about the legacy this moment will leave behind.

Maybe that’s what Hamilton continues to stir in me: a reminder that history always

remembers. The question is not whether it will, but what it will say about us.