The System Forgot Them — We Won’t

They slip through cracks that were never meant to catch them.
The veteran on the corner, whose trauma is labeled a “nuisance.”
The teenager sleeping in a gas station bathroom, whose existence is too inconvenient to acknowledge.
The mother evicted with her kids, not because she failed, but because the rent went up and the wages didn’t.

We pass them.
We pity them.
But do we see them?

The system forgot them — but if we do too? That’s on us.

Let’s Get One Thing Straight: This Is Not Accidental.

This isn’t a fluke.
This isn’t bad luck.
This isn’t about laziness or “bad decisions.”

This system was designed to reward the few and discard the rest. It turns pain into profit. It criminalizes poverty. It punishes trauma. It demands perfection from the oppressed while excusing indifference from the powerful.

You can’t rig the game and then blame the player.

And yet, here we are, watching people drown and judging their ability to swim.

Neutrality Is a Lie

“I don’t know what to do.”
“I don’t want to get involved.”
“I just mind my business.”

These aren’t harmless statements.
They are passive endorsements of injustice.

Because when the system is built to forget certain people, silence helps it succeed.

Let’s call it what it is: looking away is a choice.
And so is standing up.
So is showing up.
So is giving a damn when the world tells you not to.

We’re Not Better. We’re Just Lucky.

Ever sit with that?
That maybe the only difference between you and the person on the street is a few missed paychecks, an untreated illness, or the right support at the right time?

If your empathy stops at “deserving,” then it was never real compassion. It was just ego in disguise.

You don’t have to agree with someone’s choices to believe they deserve shelter.
You don’t have to understand their journey to know they deserve to eat.
You don’t have to be perfect to be part of the solution.

You just have to care.
Like — actually care.

We Don’t Need to Be Like “Them”

This country’s leaders have mastered the art of detachment.
They debate lives like line items.
They throw scraps and expect applause.

But we don’t have to inherit their apathy.
We don’t have to normalize their numbness.
We don’t have to mimic their moral decay.

We can choose to be more.
More present.
More grounded.
More human.

We are not powerless — we’re just under-practiced in compassion.

So What Are You Going to Do?

Seriously.
Now that you’ve read this far, what are you going to do?

Because once you know this is happening — once you really see it — choosing to do nothing is no longer an option that lets you sleep peacefully at night.

Give a little.
Show up somewhere.
Speak up when it's uncomfortable.
Get involved in the messy, beautiful work of remembering the forgotten.

Because if we don’t — who will?

They were never meant to survive this system.

But maybe, just maybe, we were meant to break it open.

Here’s your hammer: DONATE NOW