Iโm not a politics person. I donโt wake up every day analyzing bills or debates. But I do pay attention to whatโs happening around me, to people trying to make ends meet, to families who canโt afford groceries, to those living paycheck to paycheck with no break in sight. From my eyes, the hurt is real.
And Iโm not the only one noticing it. Thomas Piketty, the economist who wrote “Capital in the Twenty-First Century,” says:
โHigh levels of inequality are a problem โ messing up economic incentives, tilting democracies in favor of powerful interests, and undercutting the ideal that all people are created equal.โ
Thatโs exactly what I see. I never thought Iโd say this, but it feels like the rich got us right where they want us: poor, tired and beaten down to the ground. While they sit in offices making decisions about people like us, weโre the ones feeling the cost of every move they make.
The numbers back it up. Since the mid-1970s, the top 1% of earners in the U.S. have taken a growing share of income while the bottom 90% have seen their share shrink. This isnโt just a statistic, itโs a direct transfer of income from the vast majority of working Americans to a handful at the very top.
The gap isnโt just about money โ itโs about power. Economist Daron Acemoglu warns that when โsome people have so much money they command greater power โฆ democracy ceases to function.โ That hits home when I see families struggling, communities underfunded and everyday folks told to โjust work harderโ while the system protects the wealthy.
The government keeps going back and forth. People argue over parties and policies, while everyday folks are just trying to survive. The price of food keeps going up. Rent is outrageous. Jobs donโt pay enough to live. And yet every election, weโre told to โhave faith in the system.โ How can we trust a system that repeatedly fails real people?
Sometimes I wonder if anyone in Washington truly understands what it feels like to stretch one meal into two, or to hope your car doesnโt break down before payday. Because thatโs the reality many of us live every day, not the America portrayed on the news.
People talk about โmaking America great,โ but what does greatness mean when people canโt afford basic necessities? Whatโs great about a system where families lose benefits, schools lose funding, and health care feels like a privilege instead of a right?
Hereโs the thing that gives me hope: New Hampshire has food stations and many organizations that are really stepping up to help families feeling the burden of hardship. And let me tell you, Iโve been so heartfelt to even see schools letting parents know where to go for food and assistance. Itโs amazing. Thatโs how weโre going to get better, when we come together.
I see hope not just in systems, but in people. Even in the midst of struggle, communities are showing what it means to care for one another. Neighbors are feeding neighbors. Families are sharing resources. Volunteers are showing up at food pantries and community centers, ensuring no one feels forgotten. Thatโs the kind of America that doesnโt always make headlines, but itโs real, and itโs powerful.
Even if the rich think theyโve got us down, weโre not staying down. We may be tired, but weโre still here, raising our kids, supporting our communities and speaking out. That resilience is something that canโt be bought, and it canโt be taken away.
The truth is, this country is hurting. The gap between rich and poor isnโt just about money anymore. Itโs about who holds power, whose voices are heard and who is left behind. Yet, at the same time, itโs a moment to lean into the good that exists: organizations that step up, schools that guide families to resources, neighbors who feed one another and communities that refuse to give up.
If we focus on what unites us, rather than what divides us, we can start to rebuild. Solutions donโt always need to come from politicians, they can come from ordinary people making extraordinary efforts. Every meal shared, every family helped, every conversation about whatโs really happening adds up.
I may not speak politics like a professional, but I speak truth. And my truth is this: the system is flawed, the struggle is real, but people are still fighting, still showing love, still building community. Thatโs the America I know. Thatโs the America that still fights, even when the system doesnโt fight for us. And that is the America that can get better, together.
Shamecca Brown, a Concord resident originally from Queens, New York, is a passionate writer, dancer and community advocate.