Fear, Faith, and the Forgotten: The Urgent Need for Compassion in a Divided World
- hagenpm
- Aug 28
- 3 min read
When fear takes root in a society, it paralyzes progress. Communities stop adapting. They lose their ability to self-correct. In that vacuum, manipulation thrives. Fear craves simplicity—quick answers, scapegoats, and “us vs. them” thinking. That’s when societies become most vulnerable to extremism, division, and violence.
A Community Shattered
The tragic shooting at Annunciation Catholic Church and School in Minneapolis has left a city grieving and a nation reeling. Two children were killed and seventeen others injured when a former student, 23-year-old Robin Westman, opened fire through stained-glass windows during the first school Mass of the year. Westman died at the scene by suicide.
Authorities have called it both a hate crime and an act of domestic terrorism. Early reports reveal a digital trail of hate-filled messages—anti-Catholic, antisemitic, racist, anti-Trump, and contradictory in every direction. The full motive may never be known, but what is clear is that unchecked fear and isolation can spiral into catastrophe.
And yet, beneath the horror lies an uncomfortable question:
What do we do when someone who commits violence also belonged to a deeply marginalized group?
The Plight of Transgender Individuals
This tragedy reignites long-simmering tensions around gender identity, societal acceptance, and how we respond to pain. Some are quick to weaponize the shooter’s gender history, while others avoid the subject altogether out of fear of appearing biased.
What we need instead is honesty—neither silence nor spin, but an unflinching look at what exclusion does to people. This is not an excuse for violence. It is a warning of what happens when entire groups are vilified, pushed aside, and left without meaningful support.
1. Systemic Discrimination and Economic Hardship
Nearly 50% of transgender people report workplace discrimination (National Center for Transgender Equality, 2015).
Unemployment among trans people is twice the national average (14%) (U.S. Transgender Survey, 2015).
Over one-third live in poverty, with many earning under $25,000 a year.
Nearly 30% experience homelessness at some point in their lives, with youth and trans women of color most at risk (Williams Institute, UCLA, 2020).
2. Barriers in Health Care and Mental Health
Trans people often encounter hostile or untrained providers.
46% have been denied insurance coverage for gender-affirming care (Lambda Legal, 2020).
28% avoid medical care altogether for fear of mistreatment.
Rates of depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideation remain far higher—not because of gender identity itself, but because of stigma and rejection (American Psychiatric Association, 2021).
3. Legislative and Legal Obstacles
Federal protections against discrimination remain minimal.
As of 2025, over 25 states have banned gender-affirming care for minors (Movement Advancement Project, 2025).
The Supreme Court recently upheld one such ban, signaling a harsher legal climate.
4. School and Community Hostility
82% of transgender students feel unsafe at school (GLSEN National School Climate Survey, 2021).
90% report harassment in educational or workplace settings.
Trans people remain disproportionately targeted in public spaces, including restrooms, hospitals, and shelters.
Reclaiming Humanity from Hate
The Annunciation tragedy is not about “trans issues,” just as it’s not solely about religion or politics. It’s about what happens when people—of any identity—fall through the cracks of society, invisible and unheard, until it’s too late.
We must grieve the victims without hesitation.We must hold perpetrators accountable without exploiting their identity.We must defend marginalized communities without silencing real fears.
This isn’t about choosing sides. It’s about asking deeper questions:
What systems failed everyone involved?
Who are we excluding from belonging?
How do we prevent fear from replacing our shared humanity?
Compassion Is Not Compromise
Supporting transgender people—respecting their names, identities, and basic rights—is not political. It’s human. It doesn’t excuse violence. But it does help prevent the next one.
If we want to stop tragedies like Minneapolis from repeating, we must build systems that don’t push people to the margins—systems that listen, support, and heal before it’s too late.
Whether you are a person of faith, a policymaker, a parent, or simply someone trying to navigate this divided world—remember this:
Compassion is not weakness. Compassion is courage. And it’s the only way forward.

Comments