We often see each other at the gym. Same time. Each doing our own workout. But this time, we started talking.
It began with a cross necklace. We were both wearing one. A moment of recognition. A shared faith that opened the door to a conversation that quickly went far beyond training.
His name is Armen. He’s from Armenia.
He asked if I was in the military because I was so lean and strong. That made me smile.
He had served in the military himself. He knew the Soviet system, and about 30 years ago he saw what was coming, packed up his family and came here as a political refugee from Armenia.
I told him about my father, who took part in the uprising in Hungary and had to flee. Another political refugee. Another man who knows the price of standing up and resisting.
Two different countries. Two different lives. But a shared understanding of just how badly things can go.
Armen said something I also hear from the Iranians I know and have met, both in person and online. From Jewish people I know whose own family histories keep the reality of persecution close. And from Israelis living through war, terrorist threats, and the consequences of a hatred the rest of us can observe from a distance.
Their stories are different. But they all describe recognizing something. Patterns in the West that deeply concern them because they know where hatred, ideological fanaticism, and the gradual erosion of freedom can lead.
As Armen said, these things happen slowly. Over time. But from where we stand today, the signs have become very clear to him.
My father says the same thing. So does my Danish mother. She is 85, old enough to remember history, and she sees the same patterns.
We also agreed on something else: People are free to think whatever they want. They can hate Trump or anyone else.
But don’t lie about the truth.
Dig deeper. Read the history. Understand the context. Be willing to consider information that challenges what you already believe.
In my experience, that’s exactly where most people check out. First, they don’t want to spend the time studying history. Second, they let their feelings dictate what they believe. Even when those beliefs have nothing to do with reality.
But dislike is not evidence. And something doesn’t become true just because it fits your feelings.
If you want the truth, you have to be willing to discover that you were wrong.
That’s why I listen when people like Armen and my father tell me what they see. When people who have lived under oppression and had to leave their homelands warn us about a direction the rest of us can still afford to observe from a distance.
Their experiences deserve to be taken seriously. And their warnings deserve to be examined.
A cross. A question about my training. And suddenly, we were having a conversation about faith, truth, and the freedom we have a responsibility to protect. I have never been a ‘small talker’... and I’m glad I wasn’t this time.
We can try to deny the patterns they’re warning us about.
But refusing to see them won’t make them disappear.