I want to acknowledge the moment in which we find ourselves. A few days ago, Charlie Kirk, a far-right media figure, was assassinated during a campus appearance in Utah. He was shot in full view of thousands of college students, and moments later, the entire Internet via video. I have no useful comment to offer about the man, his work or this event, but I want to offer my deep condolences to his wife, Erika Kirk, and their two children, who are 3 and 1. I also extend my hand to every heartsick, angry, frightened parent who has a kid in college right now, especially those who’ve just dropped kids off. My kids are both recent graduates, but I remember how it felt to send them off during their freshman years. I had to trust their campuses were physical- and intellectual safe havens. I can only imagine how the parents of Utah Valley University students must feel right now, especially those whose kids were in attendance at Kirk’s event. Our young people have been through a cultural and technological onslaught these last few years, and that’s after growing up under constant threat of school shootings. So many are valiantly attempting to gain purchase on a tenuous future while holding back a tidal wave of chaos and loss that has barely been acknowledged, let alone addressed. Safety, according to Maslow, is the next basic need right after food, water and shelter. Where can they trust that right now? Before this, I didn’t know anything about Charlie Kirk, the man or the media figure, beyond that we were on opposite ends of the political spectrum. But I’ve since learned what a massive presence he was among teens and young adults. Whether they embraced or rejected his rhetoric, they knew him. The impact of his assassination will reverberate among young people in ways we parents can’t understand or predict. This isn’t the first time I’m grief-stricken for my (our) kids, but it hits differently today; a body blow of sorrow on top of the simmering maternal rage I’ve carried for years. I can’t shield my kids from this moment or its aftermath. But I can accompany them. Stand with them, walk with them, listen as they scream and shake their fists or hang their heads in silence or throw their hands up and walk away. I can witness the full spectrum of reaction without having to understand or interpret, letting my presence tell them that, at least, they don’t go through this alone.
🗄️ RELATED READINGFrom the archives:
🔗 NOTES OF NOTE
Go gently, friends. See you in the comments.
Thanks for reading Parent of Adults, my invitation to compare notes on life beyond the empty nest. I’m Asha Dornfest, a Portland, Oregon-based author & parent of two young adults. ➡️ If you’re new here, welcome! Read the About page to learn more about my newsletter or subscribe now for free.
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Saturday, September 13, 2025
State of our disunion
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