The City of Akron just barricaded the little road between Grace Park and Haven of Rest.
That’s where a lot of us bring food and supplies to our houseless neighbors.
They closed it because people were sleeping there in their cars.
Instead of creating a safe place for people who have nowhere else to go, the city decided to erase them.
Here’s a picture of the Nomadic Spirit on that road. We come every Friday. (It’s not the hot dogs, coffee, cigarettes, and lemonade they talk about, although they love that stuff. It’s the fact that I come and hang out with them. No judgement. Just hanging out. It’s simple. It’s just what I would imagine Jesus would do. That is truly my inspiration. It turns out people LOVE that shit. Who knew?)
And here’s the part that gets to me: this didn’t come from Trump or some hard-right governor.
It came from a liberal mayor with a Harvard degree.
That’s why I keep saying this isn’t a war between left and right.
It’s a war between the top and the bottom—between those who have the power to define what’s “civilized” and those who live outside that definition.
Betrayed by My Own Side
I often come down harder on Democrats not because I’ve become conservative, but because I expected better.
I’m a leftist. I believe in compassion, dignity, and equality.
I wanted the left to be a refuge for the poor, the addicted, the forgotten.
Instead, it’s become a smoother version of the same machine – corporate donors, moral branding, and a deep fear of real proximity to the poor.
Liberals talk empathy while criminalizing poverty in their own cities.
That hypocrisy hurts worse than open cruelty.
At least Trump tells people, “I see you.” (he got Roe v. Wade overturned for them.)
Liberals say, “I care,” and then call the police on the poorest American citizens. That’s the entire Liberal program. Straight up, 100% lies.
My Friends on the Street
Many of my homeless friends are conservatives.
They surprise people, but they shouldn’t.
They’ve watched “progressive” leaders shut down their camps, scatter their belongings, and ticket them for being visible.
They don’t wake up hating anyone—they just want to feel seen, to have a place where their lives aren’t treated as a nuisance.
When someone like Trump says “America First,” they hear, “Maybe he means us.”
That’s not stupidity. That’s survival looking for recognition.
I’m trying to find a path that lets us stand together—without giving up on love, compassion, or my queer and trans friends.
Because unity doesn’t have to mean uniformity.
The Jesus I Follow
I’m not a left guy or a right guy.
I’m a love-your-neighbor-and-your-enemy Jesus guy.
We don’t have a political party—or, honestly, many churches—that represent that position in America.
So when people see me criticizing Democrats, they assume I must love Trump.
But this isn’t about parties.
It’s about people.
We have to move beyond binary thinking if we’re ever going to love each other again.
I’m not talking about the rule-book Jesus of culture wars and purity tests.
I follow the Jesus who shared meals with thieves, sex workers, and lepers—the people society had already written off.
The Jesus who said love is stronger than law, compassion stronger than control.
Beyond the Barricades
The Nobel Peace Prize went this year to María Corina Machado, the Venezuelan opposition leader.
She’s brave and she’s risked her life to challenge a dictator.
But let’s be honest: the American establishment isn’t celebrating her because she’s freeing the poor.
They’re celebrating her because she supports privatizing resources and aligning with U.S. interests.
That’s not peace—it’s geopolitics wearing a halo.
(I imagine her saying a prayer of thanks to the United States in this picture. Machado has been openly supportive of U.S. sanctions on the Maduro regime and has made statements favoring stronger U.S. involvement in pressuring Maduro.)
From Oslo to Akron, the pattern is the same:
Power congratulates itself for compassion while keeping its boot on the neck of the powerless.
It rewards obedience and calls it virtue.
It erects barricades and calls it safety.
A Different Kind of Movement
I don’t want to join a political party.
I want to join a movement of people who refuse to stop loving—the poor, the addict, the immigrant, the conservative, the queer, the enemy.
Because love is the only thing power can’t counterfeit.
It’s the only revolution that doesn’t need permission.
Whether it’s a Nobel stage or a tent on a vacant lot, the truth is the same:
Love is stronger than control.