I love this city. I believe in its people. I believe that Concord can be a place where all of us — Black, white, immigrant, Indigenous, LGBTQ+, disabled, young and old — can thrive together in dignity and peace.
But belief alone is not enough when the facts speak louder than hope. Belief is no substitute for truth. And the truth is this: Concord is not moving forward, it is quietly backing away from justice.
The recent Concord Monitor article titled “City officials reject the work of an outside consultant hired to lead Concord’s diversity initiatives” is not just a news update; it’s a warning. It exposes how our institutions continue to fail the people most marginalized and how fear continues to dictate policy more than principle.
After six months of community engagement, $40,000 of taxpayer investment and the input of over 100 residents, the Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, Justice and Belonging (DEIJB) Committee severed ties with the very consultant they hired to help create a path toward equity. But that wasn’t the most shocking part. Now, members are entertaining the idea of removing the words justice, equity, inclusion and belonging from their mission, out of fear of political retaliation from a hostile state and federal climate.
This is not leadership. This is a retreat. And we know where that fear comes from.
We are haunted by the dangerous, shameless legacy and leadership of Donald Trump, a man whose time in office continues to corrupt not just the White House but the moral compass of a nation. His presidency normalized bigotry, ignited white nationalism, mocked truth, demonized the vulnerable and infected public discourse with cruelty and cowardice. And yes, I wrote these words, and I mean every one of them. Trump is not just leaving behind bad policies; he is leaving behind a blueprint for how to silence equity, how to erase the word justice, and how to intimidate local leaders into shrinking back from their commitments. That blueprint is now on display in our own city.
We are watching Concord fear the backlash of a president who governs by fear himself, a man afraid of his own past, his own sins and his own legacy of harm. He is not a leader. He is a shadow of fear parading as power.
And here’s what we’ve forgotten, this land is not his to define. It never was.
Recently in Washington, D.C., I sat with a few Indigenous young people, now my friends, and listened as they shared the sacred truths passed down from their elders. Their voices were calm, but the depth of their wisdom was undeniable. One of them, reflecting on his Cherokee heritage, said to me, “We are from the Ani-Tsalagi. We are the people of the rivers and the sky, of roots and memory. We did not arrive on this land, we are this land. The mountains carry our ancestors. The wind carries our song. We cannot be erased. We cannot be renamed. The land remembers.”
And yet today, even in Concord, we try to forget. We erase not just names, but responsibilities. We erase accountability. We fear words like belonging and equity because we don’t want to confront what they require from us: honesty, humility and change.
There is a dangerous disconnection growing in our city, between people and power, between policy and humanity. Black residents still face systemic exclusion. Immigrants still struggle for a voice in decisions that affect their lives. Indigenous stories are still ignored. Working-class families are still left behind. The most affected are the most unheard.
We hear promises, but we do not see protection. We are asked to participate, but not to be heard. We are invited to speak, but only when we don’t speak too loudly. That is not inclusion. That is tokenism.
As Nelson Mandela once said, “There is no such thing as part freedom.” You cannot build a city that claims to support all its residents while rejecting the very language that gives them hope. You cannot claim progress while kneeling in fear. You cannot pretend to lead while abandoning your own mission at the first sign of pressure.
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. warned us that, “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.” And Concord is now in danger of that silence. We still have leaders among us, people doing the real work, quietly and consistently. They are not waiting for permission. They are mentoring youth, feeding families, holding forums, attending public comment sessions and building community in places where City Hall has not. We must find them, support them, elect them and follow them.
Because if we take this moment seriously, we will grow together. We will thrive together. We will work together, support each other and heal each other. This is what a community should look like. And this is possible, it will be possible, if we choose justice over convenience.
What matters most is not that I’m writing this. What matters is that I’m telling the truth. A truth many others are too exhausted or too afraid to say. A truth many have been forced to bury. I won’t be one of them. I will not be silent. I will not be tokenized. I will not accept disconnection as the price of peace.
Before I conclude, let me be clear about this: I am sharing these truths not to condemn our city’s leadership, but because I believe in their potential. I believe our leaders, our mayor, our councilors, our community members, have the capacity, the vision and the moral responsibility to make a better, braver choice.
Concord’s future does not belong to fear. Donald Trump is not the mayor of this city. His legacy of division, denial and cowardice does not have to determine our path forward. We do not need to mirror the rhetoric of fear sweeping across the nation; we can lead with courage. We can define a different standard.
I am saying all this because I believe our local leaders still have the chance to rise above silence, above delay and above political caution. I believe they can affirm equity not just in words but in policies. And I believe that Concord still has the opportunity to show the nation what true community leadership looks like, principled, inclusive and diverse.
Let us stop backing away from justice. Let us run toward it with strength, with compassion and with each other.
Fisto Ndayishimiye is the co-director of Project S.T.O.R.Y. He also formed One Concord to represent different marginalized communities in the city.