I felt the slow rise of heavy air as I walked across the UNC Wilmington campus last week to attend the candlelight vigil for Charlie Kirk. As our footsteps fell on the freshly fallen pine needles, we watched as high-fives and loudness typically present in this location were replaced with solemn, knowing nods as the unspoken bond we were sharing began to set in.
People rolled in like waves approaching a shoreline as the crowd built and bunched closer and closer to the centerpiece on the stage at the bottom of the amphitheater, where Charlie’s smiling, friendly face appeared in a frame some undergrad had likely bought from HomeGoods earlier in the day.
A quiet line formed up the center aisle, and as my turn approached to place a rose on the pile, rage consumed me.
As I held my 2-year-old grandson in my arms and looked at Charlie’s picture, I thought about how hard Charlie had worked to spread a message of faith and truth to our nation’s young people, only to be gunned down by someone who disagreed with what he said.
Charlie Kirk stood in the breach of a fight for the American soul, for Western civilization, and nearly all alone, he occupied the battlefield of America’s college campuses, using calm argument and civil debate as his only ammunition. His death should never have happened but was a predictable outcome from what has been the steady ascension of violence, censorship and tolerance of mob rule by too many.
I thought about all of this as I stood there looking at his picture in that frame, and I was mad as hell.
For too long, left-wing activists on many of America’s campuses were emboldened by weak and feckless leaders that allowed one-sided conversation to own public spaces, squelch opposing points of view and adversely possess the sacred right one has to express himself freely.
Conservative students feared reputational damage for expressing themselves, worried they would receive poor grades from liberal professors if they chose to go against the grain, and, in some cases, feared for their safety as more students said it was OK to commit violence against someone with whom they disagreed.
But things started to change as a young pioneer blazed his way into the hearts and minds of a growing group of young people.
We remember last fall at UNC Chapel Hill when agitators tore down the American flag and Chancellor Lee Roberts, bravely and decisively, marched to the flagpole and returned our nation’s Stars and Stripes to its rightful place, and the “frat boys” took shifts over the ensuing days to protect it.
Conservative students have slowly begun to emerge from the shadows and speak up with more frequency, and the tide has begun to turn. But much work remains to be done, as evidenced by what happened in the wake of the Kirk tribute at UNC Wilmington’s Spirit Rock.
Spirit Rock is located near the center of campus, and for spans of 24 hours, students are allowed to paint or write messages of their choosing. Last week, the Turning Point kids opted to honor Charlie Kirk with an inspiring American flag theme.
It was truly something to behold — painted bright red, white and blue, it had inspiring scriptures written on it and a powerful image of Charlie’s profile.
Witnesses differ on when the painting began and when the 24 hours expired, but what is not in dispute — because it was caught on video and seen by millions — was that left-wing agitators burst onto the scene, took control of the Rock and began dumping paint over Charlie’s face and smearing it with their hands, mimicking the snuffing out of his image as a radical on another campus had done to his life.
The female student depicted in the video, and her fellow agitators, could have waited their turn and ensured the 24-hour period had expired. Better yet, they could have waited a day or two to allow the Turning Point students to grieve and then move on.
Decency suggests they should have taken the latter course of action.
But they didn’t.
Instead, with premeditation and deliberate actions, they arrived at a certain time to maximize the potential for conflict. They knew what they were doing, and were rude and uncivil to the Turning Point students. What the viewer sees on the video is appalling and disgraceful behavior.
But while the Spirit Rock incident is indicative of the depth of the problem, it also forebodes something good coming out of something so awful.
Where once these types of actions went unaddressed and people just looked the other way, now a growing number of students — like these brave TP and College Republican kids — are saying “enough” and showing up with their own buckets of paint and messages, which infuriates those who have previously enjoyed a monopoly on campuses with regard to activities such as this.
As the video of the female agitator rolls toward its end, the viewer hears in the female’s voice what was really going on in her mind:
“My friends … are going to think I’m iconic,” she proudly says.
I think she is right; she will be iconic. Only I predict it will be for reasons entirely different than what she thought when she said those words, which will be his enduring legacy with more impact on the future of the nation he loved than Charlie Kirk could have ever imagined.
Woody White is from Wilmington, a member of the UNC Board of Governors and a former North Carolina state senator.
