Amid the vertiginous nightmare of 2025, dreams of a better Kansas waft through my mind

Writing in Kansas during this challenging historical moment has revealed pitfalls and promise, according to opinion editor Clay Wirestone. (Getty Images)
When I talk to friends or family or acquaintances during this cursed summer of 2025, the conversation inevitably turns to the political landscape. And our exchange goes as follows.
Me: So, things seem bad, right?
Friend/family/acquaintance: Yep, they’re pretty bad. Let me give you a specific example that will make you want to flee across the border to Canada!
Me: I’d hoped to hear better news, actually!
Friend/family/acquaintance: No, I’ve received a memo at work that says everything will be worse next week.
This presents a problem for those of us who write columns. If we’re honest, we want to express our horror at these unprecedented times (federal troops in major cities, war waged on civic institutions, political parties either in thrall to authoritarianism or incapable of action). But we don’t want to, like, bum you out. We don’t want to bum ourselves out. It’s difficult enough being a functional human during good times, let alone while our republic descends into — something else.
I find myself sympathetic to the course that former Kansas Reflector opinion editor C.J. Janovy has taken in retirement. She’s heading off to Portugal to live the expat life. Her recent account of a summer spent waiting for bureaucratic knots to untangle summarizes this vertiginous span of months beautifully.
My family and I are hanging tough, although I don’t judge those who reach different conclusions.
Why? Four years ago this week, I wrote my first column as Kansas Reflector opinion editor, and it addresses this exact topic. You might be justified in calling me a stubborn old cuss, but I think it stands up. It still stands as my statement of purpose.
Those of us calling for a better state, I wrote, shouldn’t have to love it or leave it. We should make our voices heard and call for a better, more honorable Kansas. These days, I would add, that goes for the nation as a whole. Those of us who demand something better, something more of our leaders, come from a long and proud line of Americans who raised their voices during dark times.
That inaugural column quotes columnist Sydney J. Harris:
“Most people who want to change conditions do like it here: they love it here,” the Chicagoan wrote. “They love it so much they cannot stand to see it suffer from its imperfections, and want it to live up to its ideals. It is the people who placidly accept the corruptions and perversions and inequities in our society who do not love America; they love their status, security and special privilege. … Nobody should be faced with the mean choice of accepting conditions as they are or abandoning the place he has grown up in.”
Note the word he uses: nobody. Harris wrote that passage 56 years ago, but it still rings clear and true and bright, like a bell warning ships away from danger on a foggy night.
Later in the column, I wrote that some may leave the state, as some now leave this country.
“But where does that leave everyone else?” I asked. “Where does that leave those Kansans who are transgender? What about those who are immigrants? What about communities of color and women seeking to protect their right to choose? What about the uninsured forced to declare bankruptcy after an illness or hospital stay?”
Again, everyone has to make the right choice for themselves and their families. I feel the fear circulating and sympathize deeply. It also angers me to see the darkest aspects of our national life attempt to snuff out the light. I will be here, and I will do this work for as long as possible. (Don’t put me on a pedestal; I am being paid.) Who knows, a city bus might plow into me tomorrow.
Opinionated Kansans sharing thoughts, aspirations and gripes won’t solve all our nation’s woes. But our voices, repeated and combined with one another, prove that not everyone has resigned themselves to the darkness. Not everyone has decided to capitulate to anger, discrimination and kleptocracy. We can make the future better by working together and listening.
Will it happen tomorrow? Almost certainly not.
Will that better future exist solely in our hearts and minds? Could be!
Yet we try, and we push ahead. I try, and I push ahead, too. Let’s keep this beautiful state, this prairie haven for a free people, forever in our thoughts.
Clay Wirestone is Kansas Reflector opinion editor. Through its opinion section, Kansas Reflector works to amplify the voices of people who are affected by public policies or excluded from public debate. Find information, including how to submit your own commentary, here.