I disagreed with Charlie Kirk on almost everything.
Sometimes I would see a post or something he shared and think, seriously? I would reply and disagree. Some of his language was callous, I thought needlessly provocative.
But no part of me ever wanted anything bad to happen to him.
There are parts of me that even admired him. He built a movement. He went into the foxhole and found his voice. He motivated young people to get involved in politics. Disagree with him as I did, disagree with the way he argued, he was smart. You could learn something from him.
I often did.
I could talk a lot about things he said that I disagreed with. For instance, I hated the things he would say about Muslims — the Muslim friends I hold dear are some of the most peaceful people I know. He would go on awful rants about Islam and violence.
I actually wanted to talk to him about it, though. I wanted to use the freedom of speech that we are so lucky to have in this country to talk things out.
I think that's the part that really sticks with me. Kirk was on a college campus where we are supposed to foster free speech. And some lowlife gunned him down, killed him, so he can never speak again. Can never argue with someone again.
An assassin's gunshot robbed the world of a father, a husband, a son. And someone who loved to debate.
In the moment
I was at lunch with Richard Hanania when it happened. The two of us — him a former contributor to Project 2025 and me, a former Obama advisor — having lunch. Sure, there are areas we disagree but we were talking about our kids, sharing photos, and finding things we have in common. We both walked out and checked our phones. The news had just broken. I was shocked, worried for Kirk, praying for him, and worried for our country. Here we had been finding common ground, and someone had been shot for speaking his mind on a college campus.
Before the election, even before the assassination attempts on President Trump, I worried about political violence, regardless of the outcome of the election. The temperature was too high. I had been at the University of Arizona speaking with Sean Spicer, Trump’s former Press Secretary, and I said we needed to bring the rhetoric down. We have policy disagreements, but we can’t believe the worst in each other. We can't say someone is a Nazi or Hitler. We can't make people out to be the enemy. It's short-sighted and destructive.
To be honest, it’s some of what I found objectionable in Kirk's rhetoric. One of the things I disagreed with him about was when he would lump people together and villainize a group. But anyone right now saying he deserved to be shot, or that it's ironic, or making a joke of it, is wrong. Plain wrong. That's not how freedom of speech works. Freedom of speech means we have healthy dialogue about our disagreements.
At the beginning of 2025 I was speaking with the University of Arizona, where I am a journalist in residence about trying to engage with Charlie Kirk. He raised his family in Arizona. He spoke to young people and he was fearless.
I can’t stop thinking about how this man has kids who will never truly know their father.
I rarely cry. When something happens, I mostly think, okay, how are we going to handle this. I cried today when I found out. Tears went down my cheeks for Kirk, his wife, his family, this moment, and for America.
It was only a few months ago that Democratic Minnesota House Speaker Emerita Melissa Hortman and her husband were shot and killed. Violence begets violence.
What we’ll never know
We can't do this to each other. We can't keep believing the worst in each other. We can’t normalize violence. It's unhealthy and destructive and it robs us of what makes us human: Our compassion.
I had disagreements with Kirk. I'll never get to talk to him about them. We will never know how he would change (or wouldn’t). We’ll never get to see whether he would evolve, like a lot of political figures do. To hold different views. We'll never get to know what he could have become.
This is sick political violence. And this is what it does: It robs us of our humanity. It shouldn't be tolerated. We must call it out. And never be such a prisoner to our beliefs that it robs us of our compassion.
I sent my 13-year old son a message today because I was worried he'd hear from someone else first while he was in school, and worried about what they would say. I told him: "Charlie Kirk was assassinated. He was killed today. He didn't deserve it, even if I disagreed with what he said. If you hear anything from anyone saying he deserved it or it was justified, correct them.”
I finished the text and thought to myself how sad I am for my son growing up in this era. This era full of hate we’re giving each other. It’s continued, and grown. And here we are. Whatever Charlie Kirk might have said, no one had the right to rob him or his wife or his children of what he might become.
Nice job, Johanna
Thoughtful and important.