For most of my life, I believed certain things about America were permanent. Not perfect, never that, but permanent. I believed that whatever our failings, the world looked at us and saw a nation that stood for justice, for equality, and above all for reason. A country where institutions outlast ed the people who ran them and the rule of law was more than a slogan. I no longer take that for granted. And I don’t think you should either. After the Second World War, America leaned into peace. We invited the nations of the world to gather on our own soil and placed the United Nations in New York, a promise that countries could argue and negotiate rather than destroy each other. Our foreign aid made its share of missteps, but for generations it fed the hungry and vaccinated children in places most Americans will never see. American strength came with American generosity. So how did we get here? How is it that we now find ourselves trading tariffs and insults with Canada, our closest friend, our neighbor along the longest peaceful border on earth? Canadians stood with us after September 11th. They took in our stranded travelers. If we can turn that friendship into a quarrel, what relationship is safe? America was also a promise to the people who came here. For generations, immigrants arrived with little more than hope, and they found a country where they could build a life for themselves and their families that they could never have imagined in the country they left. They worked, they saved, they sent their children to school, and their children became teachers and soldiers and business owners. That promise built this nation. Today too many people who came here chasing it are made to feel unwelcome in the only home their children have ever known. These commitments are eroding. Not in one dramatic stroke, but steadily, the way a shoreline disappears. A reputation built over 80 years can be spent in a handful. So I want to make a plea, and I mean it as a desperate one. Please vote on November 3. Vote as if everything this country has stood for is on the line, because the things we assumed were permanent are proving they are not. Vote as if the erosion is real, because it is. And vote as if the loss can still be stopped, because it can. Marches have their place. But the most powerful act of resistance in a democracy is quiet. It happens behind a voting booth curtain, one citizen at a time. The revolution will not be televised. It never was. The revolution that pushes back against this erosion happens in the voting booth. I have lived long enough to see America at its best and to know what we stand to lose. This November, your vote may matter more than it ever has. Joseph Luciano lives in Bridgeport. ...read more read less