Let’s see what my Republican senators, alleged champions of the Second Amendment, had to say after federal immigration agents gunned down another American in the streets of Minneapolis.

Sen. Josh Hawley, who lives in northern Virginia while representing Missouri, is most famous for running out of the Capitol during the insurrection on Jan. 6 and then publishing a book on “masculinity.” He keeps posting “pro-life” messages on X but never once mentions the life of Alex Pretti, an ICU nurse serving veterans, whom ICE agents pinned down, beat and disarmed of his legally carried handgun before firing multiple rounds to kill him.

Hawley hasn’t uttered a word about Trump administration officials immediately calling Pretti a “domestic terrorist” or even about President Donald Trump criticizing Pretti for legally carrying a gun.

Then again, Hawley is hardly known for personal courage.

Sen. Eric Schmitt, who has spouted support for white Christian supremacy, blamed Minnesota’s elected officials for “dangerous rhetoric” and described Stephen Miller, Trump’s chief architect behind the mass immigration raids, as “a national treasure.” This is after Miller called Pretti a “would-be assassin” hours after he was shot, before the entire world saw multiple videos contradicting the slander.

Again, Schmitt’s bootlicking is hardly surprising.

Even Republican lawmakers in other states have spoken out about Pretti’s killing.

Neither of the senators even pretended to represent the concerns of the 1.2 million Missourians who voted for Democratic nominee Kamala Harris in 2024, and who now want to see investigations and accountability for these ICE killings.

Partisanship has become more extreme in this country, and Missouri is a prime example of it. A growing number of Americans find themselves without any same-party political representation, including a concentrated slice of politically alienated voters in suburban St. Louis.

In the last election, more than 195,000 people in Missouri's District 2 voted against House Rep. Ann Wagner, the Republican rubber stamp for Trump. Among those voters, there are tens of thousands whose state representatives, along with all statewide officeholders, are also MAGA Republicans. These voters have zero same-party representation at the local, state or federal level.

This is the strongest possible form of representational mismatch in the U.S. system. Despite living in a competitive district, these voters are among the least represented in the country.

As politics has become more partisan, our elected officials know they can safely ignore the concerns of 40% of their constituents, focusing instead on governing and campaigning for their own party’s primary voters. And as the GOP has become more extreme and disconnected from reality, it feels more alienating to be solely represented by that party.

Where there is representational mismatch for voters in both parties across the country, it affects more Democratic voters than Republican ones. About 11 million to 13 million Harris voters live in a state where the entire congressional delegation is Republican, while 6 million to 9 million Trump voters live in a state where their entire delegation is Democratic. This imbalance is largely due to Democratic voters being clustered in urban areas, overrepresentation for less-populated rural states in the Senate, and gerrymandered districts in the House.

The intended effect for the ruling party in situations like this is to create a feeling of alienation, disengagement and distrust in the electoral system for those in the political minority. It’s understandable why people in that minority may be inclined to feel helpless.

But those are the exact feelings that lead democracies to fail.

Engaged citizens who lack political representation have to focus their energy for the upcoming election in a more strategic way than ever before. Volunteers can choose to help critical state-level ballot initiatives or close races outside their own district. People can protest against tyranny and help to protect the ones most at risk from it.

It’s vital to keep speaking out and sharing facts and truth.

Ironically, the scorn and contempt shown by those elected to represent an entire state can galvanize the very people they want to dismiss.

Change happens when people refuse to give in or give up.

A few days before he delivered the weekly Friday sermon, the imam received a call from a distressed young woman.

Mufti Asif Umar, imam of Daar-Ul-Islam mosque in Manchester, Missouri, listened while the woman described how her emotional pain felt worse than any physical pain, even when she pinched herself as hard as she could.

“That really worried me,” Umar said. He counseled her and urged her to seek additional support.

The conversation made him think about others facing intense pressure and hurt, and the young people who had died by suicide in the past few years. Their funeral notices and obituaries never listed the cause of death due to the stigma in most religious communities.

Umar had never spoken directly about suicide to our congregation before.

That day, he knew he had to say something.

“I want to get a conversation started,” he said. “This is real, and this is happening.”

He wondered how he would get across multiple messages -- the sanctity of life, the compassion for those suffering and bereaved, the hope for anyone struggling -- within his 25-minute time slot.

I was in the mosque when he delivered that sermon earlier this month. It was the first time I’d ever heard any imam speak openly about mental health issues and urge Muslims who are struggling to seek therapy. Umar reminded us that we had a religious duty to check on one another and reach out if we noticed that something may be wrong.

The majority of religious traditions describe suicide as a major or grave sin. This can make it more difficult for individuals or families to seek help, fearing judgment or condemnation. However, modern religious teachings emphasize compassion and God’s mercy, while recognizing the realities of mental illness and trauma.

Tight-knit religious communities can also offer protection against suicide risk if they focus on providing social support, reducing loneliness and creating networks of care that reach people before they hit a crisis point. Faith can give a person a sense of purpose, belonging, hope and resiliency.

Recently, I’ve noticed the topic of suicide repeatedly come up in a variety of groups. Joan Lipkin, a playwright, director and educator, recently posted on her Facebook page about the difficulty of honestly sharing one’s vulnerabilities in the creative community. Creative people, and others who are deeply sensitive, can feel pain so intensely.

“I really do think that creatives can be afraid to share their vulnerability because they are concerned that it may affect their ability to be cast or hired or get grants,” she said.

In another local group for mothers, a woman posted anonymously seeking help for incessant suicidal thoughts. I’ve seen posts from those struggling but unable to afford treatment, or to even find a place that will take them. Others fear losing their children in a custody battle.

Despite all the barriers that may prevent a person from asking for help -- fear of social judgment, professional consequences, legal ramifications, lack of insurance or money, long waiting lists for treatment -- the openness of people willing to talk about this is a positive change. And it doesn’t take much to tell someone that they aren’t alone, remind them that someone cares and that things will get better.

Umar said that he would like the leaders at our mosque and Islamic school to get training on the warning signs of suicide and how to best respond to those who may be at risk. He said his sermon was meant to serve as a wake-up call.

“We could all be a part of a solution to this,” he said.

It will take people from all walks of life, from religious shepherds to arts leaders to compassionate neighbors, to lead the way.

The rest of us should follow.

If you are feeling hopeless or struggling, or know someone who is, please call or text 988 for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline.

Just when I thought we had become numb to state-directed cruelty and injustice -- that our outrage was spent, that we needed to look away from the burning embers of American democracy to preserve our own sanity -- a video so horrific emerged that it reignited the full anguish and anger this moment deserves.

We watched ICE agent Jonathan Ross repeatedly shoot Renee Good, killing the 37-year-old Minneapolis mother who had just dropped her 6-year-old daughter off at school.

A brown puppy stuffed animal spilled out of the glove compartment of her blood-splattered car.

A video released by the Department of Homeland Security captured Good's last words to Ross: “That’s fine, I’m not mad at you.” The same video captures what an ICE agent (potentially Ross) uttered at her after she was shot three times: “Fucking bitch.”

The video shows Ross holding a gun in one hand and a cellphone, to keep filming, in the other. As one does when they are terrified for their life.

Before any investigation even began, DHS Secretary Kristi Noem said the agent acted in self-defense and called Good a “domestic terrorist.” But multiple journalistic outlets and legal analysts examined video footage frame-by-frame from various angles. The footage at least suggests that Good's SUV was moving away and not attempting to strike the agent when shots were fired.

The FBI is investigating the shooting, but state and local authorities have been blocked from viewing its findings. Six federal prosecutors have resigned over the Justice Department’s handling of the investigation.

Polling conducted shortly after the killing shows that 35% of respondents believe Ross’ shooting of Good was justified.

The government narrative that citizens must “comply or die” drives home the reality of the past year: We are living under a far-right government that embraces authoritarian tactics.

People in many parts of the world have been experiencing rising authoritarianism and a global decline in democratic norms. Global democracy scores have dropped to historic lows.

What this looks like in practice is tighter control of the media and civil society, challenges to judicial independence, manipulating or weakening the electoral process, suppressing dissent and protest, and consolidating power.

As one of the world’s oldest continuous constitutional democracies, it’s shocking to see America’s backslide and realize how few safeguards we had against this. In recent elections, far-right parties in Europe have won around 25% of the vote. The strongest showing has been in France, where the far-right captured about 31% -- a record high -- in the European Parliament election in 2024.

The 35% who said they support ICE’s killing of Good likely share the worldview and beliefs of those voters. What they fail to realize is that no citizen is safe under an authoritarian government. Not a single one. Even if you never attend a single protest or speak a word of politics, you still need fair courts, stable laws that apply equally, guaranteed rights, and truthful and accurate information from authorities.

Every citizen loses legal, economic and social protections under the far right.

When people can no longer trust the government or media to tell them the truth, it’s harder to make daily decisions about your health, safety and financial choices. Authoritarians weaken the social safety net and labor protections and undermine independent economic institutions. (Jerome Powell, the Fed chair facing investigation, can attest to this.) Far-right groups shift the definition of who counts as fully deserving citizens worthy of protection -- excluding those who challenge them in any regard.

When the law is less predictable, there is less protection against the abuse of power and less recourse for those harmed by the state or those it favors.

If armed federal agents approached you, which mindset would you want them to have?

You could “comply or die,” as insisted by those who support ICE’s actions. You may have seconds to “comply” with conflicting instructions shouted by armed, masked agents in a chaotic situation.

But there’s another way of walking in this world. One that invokes the name of a woman we cannot forget: Be Good.