What I Hate, and What I Still Believe

Inspired by my great-great-grandfather William James Troupe

My great-great-grandfather, William James Troupe, was born in 1844 in Hanover, Pennsylvania. He was the only man from his town to fight at Gettysburg—against existential threats to our democracy. He stood his ground, even when everything felt bigger than one life. Today, nearly 160 years later, I find myself following his footsteps—only I'm not fighting Confederate soldiers. I'm standing against authoritarian recklessness.

I didn't think I could hate anyone.

Until now.

I hate Donald Trump—for unleashing cruelty, for normalizing violence, for turning truth into a weapon. I hate that he revived fear and hatred as tools of power. I hate how so many people have silently accepted it for so long.

But hate isn't what it seems.

It's not the opposite of love. It's love betrayed.

I love this country—its promise, its compass, its people. That's why I feel this betrayal so deeply. It's why I'm compelled to act.

My ancestor William didn't seek war. He signed up to defend a nation he believed could be better. He didn't stand back. He did what was asked. He paid the cost. And so must we.

I never wanted to write this.

But silence isn't an option. Not when federal troops enforce rhetoric rooted in fear. Not when protests are framed as threats. Not when democracy itself is being tested.

I'm just a parent with a lot to lose and nothing left to unsee. And I refuse to stand down while authoritarianism advances.

I'm going. This Saturday.

To the "No Kings" protest—alongside people who still believe in democracy.

Because:

• My great-great grandfather stood at Gettysburg believing freedom was worth fighting for.
• I still believe in the power of public presence.
• I still believe dissent is patriotic.
• I still believe democracy deserves defense.

If you feel this too, know this:

You're not late. You're not dramatic. You're awake.
Show up. Speak out. Or at least forward this to someone who will.

This isn't simply politics—it's a test of memory, decency, and courage. My ancestor answered history's call at age 19. It's my turn.

– Matthew Hendricks
parent, caretaker, witness