We can’t begin in fear. So, what can we begin in?

Across the country, critical health and social programs—many born from the hard-earned lessons of the pandemic—are quietly being dismantled. Mental health, addiction recovery, youth services, rural care, marginalized populations support, trauma-informed systems, overdose prevention—all facing deep cuts or outright elimination.

These aren’t just budget lines. They are lifelines.

But when systems disappear quietly, we don’t always see the harm right away.

It’s like a lighthouse no longer manned. At first, the tower still stands.

The sea churns, but the beacon remains—for now.

But the salt starts to eat the beams. The stairs rust. The lens clouds. And one night, the light goes out.

A ship loses its way. It crashes. People die.

We may forget the meeting where we chose to stop funding the lighthouse. But we will never forget the wreckage.

This is how collapse happens in public health: not with a single act, but with silence. A slow erosion that costs lives. And still—we debate whether the storm is real until it reaches our door.

But here’s the truth: If the system is unsafe for some, it’s unsafe for everyone. Whether you’re on the ship—or watching from the shore.

So what can we begin in?

Here’s what we can do:

  • Stay informed. Pay attention to what’s being cut—not just what’s being announced. Learn what your community stands to lose.

  • Use your voice. Contact your congressional representatives. Tell them what matters. Ask what they’re doing to protect it.

  • Center the impacted. Uplift voices from communities at risk. Don’t let them be erased from the budget narrative.

  • Mobilize where you are. Advocate in your organization. Speak up in meetings. Raise awareness in every circle you touch.

  • Support local networks. Federal cuts create local crises. Donate, volunteer, connect. Be the scaffolding where the system breaks.

  • Refuse silence. Share what’s happening. Educate. Amplify. Speak—even if your voice shakes. Even if only one person listens.

The storm is already here. The light is dimming. And we are the ones who decide if it stays on.

Alex Karydi

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