something political.

It’s so nice that you have an opinion.
I have one too.
There have been dozens of opinions passed as facts and hard evidence in the year.
Almost everywhere you look, an opinion piece about the election-- about the moral character of Hillary Clinton or Donald Trump— is being shoved down your throat.
If you’re fiery, you throw your opinion back—maybe kindly, but most often full of disgust that someone could have a varying opinion on “who is worse” in a very, very losing game.

That’s cool. The election will come and pass and more hateful, disparaging opinion articles will surface about whoever wins. It's a blur to understand which fact is true and which is stretched—all mingled with this incandescent need to share opinion, opinion, opinion. 

I have an opinion too- a political one- but I’ll save that for November.

Here is what I do know that this election has taught us—we need to be better humans.

And your vote is not going to fix humanity. Your opinion isn’t either.

Discussions of sexual assault, racial profiling, the ridiculous need to throw rocks at the other side of the aisle, the war in Syria, the refugee crisis, police shootings, deportation forces, fraud—these are the things that immerse our brains—and all of this does not need a person in political power—it needs Jesus.

If we have learned anything from this horrifying year, it’s that humanity sucks. It’s that we have got to do better. We have got to be better.

When I walk into my high school classroom- I have an opinion. But I don’t share it. Because I have kids whose parents are here illegally sitting in my class. Because I have girls wearing hijabs who have been partial to Islamaphobia sitting in my class. Because I have kids whose parents have taught them to be racist through discussions at the dining room table sitting in my class. Because I have kids whose only form of news is Twitter sitting in my class. Because I have African-American boys who are freaking smart but have been labeled as a trouble maker their whole lives sitting in my class. They see hate. They know hate. They do not need an opinion.

They need a hope of a better world.

As we sit, a mixture of modern America, we read The Crucible and talk about the ways in which McCarthyism of the 1950’s resembles today.

As we sit, a mixture of modern America, we read Civil Disobedience and talk about the ways in which we agree and disagree with our own government. We talk about non-violent protests as a student sits in the back of my class with a piece of tape over his mouth to protest silently for Black Lives Matter.

As we sit, a mixture of modern America, we read The Declaration of Independence and The Federalist Papers and talk about the failings and successes of the Founding Fathers of this country—what changes we have made since these famous words were written and what changes still need to be made.

Gain something from this political mess—a reassurance that this is not our home. That we do not put our hope in a government—filled with both corrupt people and ones who would die for this land.

So put down your loaded opinion. Vote if you want—but know you’re not going to be voting for a “good person” no matter what—but that’s not the end of this country.

If we want to fix this country, heck, this world—it’s not about voting for a “good person”—it’s about being a good person. Fight for justice, not a majority in Congress. Strive to be kind, not right.

At the end of the day, I’m not simply a citizen of America. I’m a citizen of the kingdom of Heaven: a child of a God who does not know hate because in His very nature, is love.

Care about something beyond politics—care about the issues that have emerged in this disparaging race—pick one and do something about it—with your finances, your time, your words. Just do something.

We have got to be better humans.
And that right there is the only opinion I’ll be sharing with the Internet.