What Can You Learn From a Drunk, Sexting College Student? Mercy.

Unless you've been ignoring the headlines to avoid election coverage, you've probably seen the story about a young female college student who crashed her car into a police officer's car following a party. And, you've probably heard she was tipsy, taking topless photos to send her boyfriend. Undeniably, it was not her finest moment.

"How do you face your family? How do you call your mom? How do you call your dad? What is it like when you get up that morning and see your face everywhere on Facebook? Your moment of absolute shame and you are being ridiculed by everyone," Glenn asked Tuesday on his radio program.

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Planning to discuss the story Monday on radio, Glenn had second thoughts after teaching the Beatitudes at church on Sunday.

"As I had my finger on send, the Beatitudes came to mind. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy," Glenn said. "I had my finger on send because she was going to be funny. I hit delete. I didn't bring it up yesterday. And the reason why is because I want to talk to you today about mercy."

Read below or listen to the full segment for answers to these questions:

• For how long will the college girl's life be destroyed by her mistake?

• Has a study been done on the people who have been destroyed by Facebook?

• Whose business was destroyed after a single, misinterpreted tweet?

• Would we have treated people so hatefully before social media?

• Has Glenn softened his approach or his principles?

Listen to this segment from The Glenn Beck Program:

Below is a rush transcript of this segment, it might contain errors:

GLENN: Hello, America. All right. I want to tell you a -- I want to tell you a story. And I want to tell it in two different ways.

Sunday morning, I get up, and I'm reading the news. And I see this amazing story about this 20-year-old girl who is leaving a party. She is driving back to her dorm room, and she slams into the back of a police cruiser. The police cruiser is parked.

JEFFY: Not fun.

GLENN: The police cruiser is -- the cop just got out of the cruiser, and he was walking over to a house where he was investigating some, you know, phone call. And he turns around after he hears, pam!

And he runs over to the car to see if the girl is okay. And she is quickly trying to put her blouse on. She has a sweater or a blouse, and she's pulling it over her head. And the cop says, "Miss, are you okay?"

And she says, "Yes, yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry. I just -- I'm sorry."

He said, "Can you step out?"

She said, "Yes."

And now she's trying to hook her bra back up and put her blouse back on. Nobody else is in the car. There is an open wine bottle in the car.

JEFFY: Wow.

GLENN: And the police officer notices that she's having a hard time kind of navigating.

And he says, "You been drinking?" And she says, "Well, I just got back from a party, but I'm not drunk." And he says okay. He gives her a sobriety test.

All I know is that she had to go to the hospital for blood tests, so I'm guessing that she flunked the sobriety test.

And he said, "Can you tell me what you were doing?" And she blushes, and she says, "Yeah. I -- I just left a party, and my boyfriend wanted a topless picture of me driving home."

So she had taken off her blouse and her bra, and she was taking a hot photo of her topless, driving home, for her boyfriend.

Now, there's plenty of places to go here, are there not, Pat?

PAT: Yes, many.

GLENN: Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.

JEFFY: Yes?

GLENN: So I'm seeing this story, and I immediately think, "Oh, my gosh, is this society -- is this girl just dumb as a box of rocks?"

PAT: Uh-huh.

GLENN: And I copy and paste. I put it into an email, and I'm sending it to one of our producers for yesterday's show. This is Monday -- this is Sunday morning. And as I'm ready to hit "send," I look down at her face one more time. And she's a normal-looking sweet 20-year-old girl. And suddenly, I think to myself, "Everybody -- her life is destroyed, at least for a year."

Everybody she knows -- she's this 20-something -- you know, 19, 20-year-old, going to college. Her parents think she's sweet, most likely. All of her parents' friends think she's sweet most likely. Her aunts, her uncles, everybody in her circle that doesn't see her taking her top off for her boyfriend now has a very different image of her.

One thing to be drinking. Another thing to be drinking and driving. Another thing to be drinking and driving and slam into the back of a police officer. It's another thing to be drinking and driving and slamming into the back of the police officer while sexting. It's another thing to be drinking and driving and slamming into the back of the police cruiser while sexting and taking a photo of yourself topless and the reason you were slamming into the back of the police officer is because you were trying to put your shirt back on.

Done. How do you face your family -- how do you call your mom? How do you call your dad? What are your friends -- what is it like when you get up that morning and see your face everywhere on Facebook? Your moment of absolute shame and you are being ridiculed by everyone.

It's a good thing that this thing happened to me on Sunday. Because I teach Sunday school. And this Sunday, I taught the Beatitudes.

And, you know, Ellen, if I have time today, I want to teach them on Facebook -- I want to teach them on Facebook Live today, if I can.

But I got to mercy. As I had my finger on "send," the Beatitudes came to mind. Those -- those who are merciful will receive mercy.

Now, I have been thinking about Facebook and the comments on Facebook -- because has anybody read my comments lately? Woo!

And I thought to myself a lot, "Most these people don't know me. Most of these people have never listened to me. They -- some of them have, but I contend, they've heard, but they've never really listened to me. Those who are making the case that I've changed. No, I haven't.

If anything, I have softened my stance, but -- not my stance, not my principles, but I've softened my approach. But I haven't changed my principles at all. They're exactly the same. So I contend you may have heard me, but you didn't listen to me. But most of them haven't listened to me. They don't know the first thing about me. And they are getting more and more vitriolic. Really nasty. And everyone is getting that way.

And so I've been thinking a lot of, "What's happening to us? What is happening to us?" Because we would have never treated each other this way before. But now we're traveling in packs and we're traveling anonymously. And it's easy to say things anonymously or virtually because it's not -- you don't have to look at the person in the eye. But you'll notice -- I saw a video today of a woman who went, and she was standing in a Trump rally. She started protesting. Trump kicked her out. Okay. Fine.

But when they get out, people surround her. And she is angry, and she's shouting angry liberal, Berkeley, California, things. I don't even care about what she was saying or what anyone else was saying. What was happening is they were yelling at each other. Okay. I get it. Everybody is angry.

But then one side started to chant lock her up. Lock her up. All she did was express her opinion. She might have done it horribly. I don't agree with her opinion at all. But in a crowd, lock her up. Lock her up. We're becoming bullies in crowds and bullies virtually, on both sides. This is not about a candidate. This is about all of us.

I had my finger on "send" because she was going to be funny. I hit delete. And I didn't bring it up yesterday. And the reason why is because I want to talk to you today about mercy.

Is there something about using people -- we're using -- we're no longer looking -- in fact, we don't like it. We don't watch television as much because -- we're not watching situation comedies as much. Because why use a situation comedy? Reality is funnier than anything else. Look at all this crazy, stupid people. And look at how we're mocking everything on Facebook now.

But we don't see people as people. They're just for our entertainment purposes. And then we move on.

We pile on -- what business is it of us, this girl's life? Now, Pat, because I brought this up in church, Pat had an argument -- a discussion with his wife on the way home. She happened to agree with me. He didn't.

PAT: Yeah, you know, I think you can use that as a cautionary tale for other girls in similar situations not to do that because so many things can go wrong. Almost everything that can happen is bad. And -- and it's a -- so it might prevent somebody else from doing that the next time.

JEFFY: You would hope.

PAT: You would hope so. You would hope. You would hope so.

GLENN: You wouldn't hope so. You wouldn't hope so?

(chuckling)

PAT: It's also a story about where we're headed culturally.

GLENN: I agree with you on that. I agree with you on that.

The problem is you're identifying -- I don't think people understand -- I don't think any of us really understand, especially for somebody, unlike me, unlike Ben Shapiro, and unlike anybody -- David French, who is really getting hammered right now, we at least have an outlet. People like that, they don't.

The entire country turns on them, mocks them, ridicules them, and then moves on. That experience I think has to change people.

I would love to see -- has anybody ever done -- you would know this, Stu. Has anybody ever done a study on the people who have been destroyed by Facebook?

STU: Yeah, we haven't talked about this? There's a really interesting article that came out, it's probably six months ago now. Of the woman, and you might remember this story --

GLENN: I knew he would know.

STU: -- where she went to Africa, and she --

GLENN: Yeah, she got on the plane.

STU: She got on a plane. She tweeted before she got on the plane. She tweeted a joke and said, "I'm going to Africa, but don't worry, I'm white. So I won't get AIDS," or something like that.

So gets on the plane, flies to Africa. Someone -- it was at the former institution, you might remember as Gawker, posted this tweet of hers and made it into a news story. And -- but she was in the air the whole time as the thing blew up and she didn't know. There was a hashtag. I don't remember -- again, this is me.

GLENN: Landed yet, or something?

STU: Yeah, has she landed yet? I don't even remember her name, proving your point. So she was a PR person, and she made the joke not to say that white people can't get AIDS.

JEFFY: Right.

STU: That was not her point. Her point was -- she was actually kind of liberal and was pointing out that we don't care enough about Africa, basically.

The attitude of Americans are we just -- you know, we think that none of this stuff will happen to us. That's kind of her point. Like is it a little bit offensive? Yes. But, you know, she was trying to be offensive. It's Twitter, right?

There's no reason -- she had worked in charity in these areas before like for -- to help people in these situations. There was no reason to believe she was a hard-core racist who wanted black people to get AIDS and black people not to. There was no backing for this -- in a completely -- in a person who generally speaking was not a public person. Right? Like she was not a person in which she was trying to get on TV all the time. Although she was in PR, so she had some of that background.

Anyway, so by the time she had landed, she was fired.

JEFFY: Yeah. Before she even had a chance to respond to anything at all.

STU: Right. She didn't even get a chance to respond to it, and her life was over.

GLENN: Imagine landing, turning on your cell phone and hearing bing, bing, bing, bing, bing, big, and everybody is writing to her, saying, "Boy, this is not good."

STU: Yeah.

GLENN: And she's fired.

JEFFY: Right.

STU: Right.

GLENN: On the tarmac, she finds out, "I've been -- I've lost my job?"

STU: Yeah. And her business was destroyed too. Because she was -- if I remember correctly, she had a bunch of clients. Like she had a business with a bunch of clients, and they just all dropped her. So she had nothing.

She went through a period of, you know, real depression. And, again, everyone else had moved on. We had all forgotten her name.

GLENN: Right. All left.

STU: We had all moved on.

GLENN: We all were higher than -- holier than thou, and we went on with our life to destroy somebody else.

STU: Exactly. Now, I believe -- I can't remember -- that was probably, the whole story happened, I don't know, two years ago. And so a year after that, she wound up getting her head back on her shoulders and putting her life back together a little bit. Wound up eventually contacting the Gawker author who came around to essentially apologize for, you know, publicizing her tweet. And they kind of became friends, if I remember the story correctly. And she's been able to sort of put her life back together.

GLENN: See if we can get her on the air.

STU: Yeah, it was a fascinating story. And, yeah, let's do that. I mean, it was really interesting --

GLENN: We should see if we can find a few people who have been destroyed and just cannot put their life back together.

STU: Yeah, there's several examples in that story, if I remember.

Featured Image: The Sermon On the Mount, Dansk: Bjergprædiken, Museum of National History at Frederiksborg Castle (Wiki Commons)

The Crisis of Meaning: Searching for truth and purpose

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Anxiety, anger, and chronic dissatisfaction signal a country searching for meaning. Without truth and purpose, politics becomes a dangerous substitute for identity.

We have built a world overflowing with noise, convenience, and endless choice, yet something essential has slipped out of reach. You can sense it in the restless mood of the country, the anxiety among young people who cannot explain why they feel empty, in the angry confusion that dominates our politics.

We have more wealth than any nation in history, but the heart of the culture feels strangely malnourished. Before we can debate debt or elections, we must confront the reality that we created a world of things, but not a world of purpose.

You cannot survive a crisis you refuse to name, and you cannot rebuild a world whose foundations you no longer understand.

What we are living through is not just economic or political dysfunction. It is the vacuum that appears when a civilization mistakes abundance for meaning.

Modern life is stuffed with everything except what the human soul actually needs. We built systems to make life faster, easier, and more efficient — and then wondered why those systems cannot teach our children who they are, why they matter, or what is worth living for.

We tell the next generation to chase success, influence, and wealth, turning childhood into branding. We ask kids what they want to do, not who they want to be. We build a world wired for dopamine rather than dignity, and then we wonder why so many people feel unmoored.

When everything is curated, optimized, and delivered at the push of a button, the question “what is my life for?” gets lost in the static.

The crisis beneath the headlines

It is not just the young who feel this crisis. Every part of our society is straining under the weight of meaninglessness.

Look at the debt cycle — the mathematical fate no civilization has ever escaped once it crosses a threshold that we seem to have already blown by. While ordinary families feel the pressure, our leaders respond with distraction, with denial, or by rewriting the very history that could have warned us.

You cannot survive a crisis you refuse to name, and you cannot rebuild a world whose foundations you no longer understand.

We have entered a cultural moment where the noise is so loud that it drowns out the simplest truths. We are living in a country that no longer knows how to hear itself think.

So people go searching. Some drift toward the false promise of socialism, some toward the empty thrill of rebellion. Some simply check out. When a culture forgets what gives life meaning, it becomes vulnerable to every ideology that offers a quick answer.

The quiet return of meaning

And yet, quietly, something else is happening. Beneath the frustration and cynicism, many Americans are recognizing that meaning does not come from what we own, but from what we honor. It does not rise from success, but from virtue. It does not emerge from noise, but from the small, sacred things that modern life has pushed to the margins — the home, the table, the duty you fulfill, the person you help when no one is watching.

The danger is assuming that this rediscovery happens on its own. It does not.

Reorientation requires intention. It requires rebuilding the habits and virtues that once held us together. It requires telling the truth about our history instead of rewriting it to fit today’s narratives. And it requires acknowledging what has been erased: that meaning is inseparable from God’s presence in a nation’s life.

Harold M. Lambert / Contributor | Getty Images

Where renewal begins

We have built a world without stillness, and then we wondered why no one can hear the questions that matter. Those questions remain, whether we acknowledge them or not. They do not disappear just because we drown them in entertainment or noise. They wait for us, and the longer we ignore them, the more disoriented we become.

Meaning is still available. It is found in rebuilding the smallest, most human spaces — the places that cannot be digitized, globalized, or automated. The home. The family. The community.

These are the daily virtues that do not trend on social media, but that hold a civilization upright. If we want to repair this country, we begin there, exactly where every durable civilization has always begun: one virtue at a time, one tradition at a time, one generation at a time.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

A break in trust: A NEW Watergate is brewing in plain sight

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When institutions betray the public’s trust, the country splits, and the spiral is hard to stop.

Something drastic is happening in American life. Headlines that should leave us stunned barely register anymore. Stories that once would have united the country instead dissolve into silence or shrugs.

It is not apathy exactly. It is something deeper — a growing belief that the people in charge either cannot or will not fix what is broken.

When people feel ignored or betrayed, they will align with anyone who appears willing to fight on their behalf.

I call this response the Bubba effect. It describes what happens when institutions lose so much public trust that “Bubba,” the average American minding his own business, finally throws his hands up and says, “Fine. I will handle it myself.” Not because he wants to, but because the system that was supposed to protect him now feels indifferent, corrupt, or openly hostile.

The Bubba effect is not a political movement. It is a survival instinct.

What triggers the Bubba effect

We are watching the triggers unfold in real time. When members of Congress publicly encourage active duty troops to disregard orders from the commander in chief, that is not a political squabble. When a federal judge quietly rewrites the rules so one branch of government can secretly surveil another, that is not normal. That is how republics fall. Yet these stories glided across the news cycle without urgency, without consequence, without explanation.

When the American people see the leadership class shrug, they conclude — correctly — that no one is steering the ship.

This is how the Bubba effect spreads. It is not just individuals resisting authority. It is sheriffs refusing to enforce new policies, school boards ignoring state mandates, entire communities saying, “We do not believe you anymore.” It becomes institutional, cultural, national.

A country cracking from the inside

This effect can be seen in Dearborn, Michigan. In the rise of fringe voices like Nick Fuentes. In the Epstein scandal, where powerful people could not seem to locate a single accountable adult. These stories are different in content but identical in message: The system protects itself, not you.

When people feel ignored or betrayed, they will align with anyone who appears willing to fight on their behalf. That does not mean they suddenly agree with everything that person says. It means they feel abandoned by the institutions that were supposed to be trustworthy.

The Bubba effect is what fills that vacuum.

The dangers of a faithless system

A republic cannot survive without credibility. Congress cannot oversee intelligence agencies if it refuses to discipline its own members. The military cannot remain apolitical if its chain of command becomes optional. The judiciary cannot defend the Constitution while inventing loopholes that erase the separation of powers.

History shows that once a nation militarizes politics, normalizes constitutional shortcuts, or allows government agencies to operate without scrutiny, it does not return to equilibrium peacefully. Something will give.

The question is what — and when.

The responsibility now belongs to us

In a healthy country, this is where the media steps in. This is where universities, pastors, journalists, and cultural leaders pause the outrage machine and explain what is at stake. But today, too many see themselves not as guardians of the republic, but of ideology. Their first loyalty is to narrative, not truth.

The founders never trusted the press more than the public. They trusted citizens who understood their rights, lived their responsibilities, and demanded accountability. That is the antidote to the Bubba effect — not rage, but citizenship.

How to respond without breaking ourselves

Do not riot. Do not withdraw. Do not cheer on destruction just because you dislike the target. That is how nations lose themselves. Instead, demand transparency. Call your representatives. Insist on consequences. Refuse to normalize constitutional violations simply because “everyone does it.” If you expect nothing, you will get nothing.

Do not hand your voice to the loudest warrior simply because he is swinging a bat at the establishment. You do not beat corruption by joining a different version of it. You beat it by modeling the country you want to preserve: principled, accountable, rooted in truth.

Adam Gray / Stringer | Getty Images

Every republic reaches a moment when historians will later say, “That was the warning.” We are living in ours. But warnings are gifts if they are recognized. Institutions bend. People fail. The Constitution can recover — if enough Americans still know and cherish it.

It does not take a majority. Twenty percent of the country — awake, educated, and courageous — can reset the system. It has happened before. It can happen again.

Wake up. Stand up. Demand integrity — from leaders, from institutions, and from yourself. Because the Bubba effect will not end until Americans reclaim the duty that has always belonged to them: preserving the republic for the next generation.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Warning: Stop letting TikTok activists think for you

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Bad-faith attacks on Israel and AIPAC warp every debate. Real answers emerge only when people set aside scripts and ask what serves America’s long-term interests.

The search for truth has always required something very much in short supply these days: honesty. Not performative questions, not scripted outrage, not whatever happens to be trending on TikTok, but real curiosity.

Some issues, often focused on foreign aid, AIPAC, or Israel, have become hotbeds of debate and disagreement. Before we jump into those debates, however, we must return to a simpler, more important issue: honest questioning. Without it, nothing in these debates matters.

Ask questions because you want the truth, not because you want a target.

The phrase “just asking questions” has re-entered the zeitgeist, and that’s fine. We should always question power. But too many of those questions feel preloaded with someone else’s answer. If the goal is truth, then the questions should come from a sincere desire to understand, not from a hunt for a villain.

Honest desire for truth is the only foundation that can support a real conversation about these issues.

Truth-seeking is real work

Right now, plenty of people are not seeking the truth at all. They are repeating something they heard from a politician on cable news or from a stranger on TikTok who has never opened a history book. That is not a search for answers. That is simply outsourcing your own thought.

If you want the truth, you need to work for it. You cannot treat the world like a Marvel movie where the good guy appears in a cape and the villain hisses on command. Real life does not give you a neat script with the moral wrapped up in two hours.

But that is how people are approaching politics now. They want the oppressed and the oppressor, the heroic underdog and the cartoon villain. They embrace this fantastical framing because it is easier than wrestling with reality.

This framing took root in the 1960s when the left rebuilt its worldview around colonizers and the colonized. Overnight, Zionism was recast as imperialism. Suddenly, every conflict had to fit the same script. Today’s young activists are just recycling the same narrative with updated graphics. Everything becomes a morality play. No nuance, no context, just the comforting clarity of heroes and villains.

Bad-faith questions

This same mindset is fueling the sudden obsession with Israel, and the American Israel Public Affairs Committee in particular. You hear it from members of Congress and activists alike: AIPAC pulls the strings, AIPAC controls the government, AIPAC should register as a foreign agent under the Foreign Agents Registration Act. The questions are dramatic, but are they being asked in good faith?

FARA is clear. The standard is whether an individual or group acts under the direction or control of a foreign government. AIPAC simply does not qualify.

Here is a detail conveniently left out of these arguments: Dozens of domestic organizations — Armenian, Cuban, Irish, Turkish — lobby Congress on behalf of other countries. None of them registers under FARA because — like AIPAC — they are independent, domestic organizations.

If someone has a sincere problem with the structure of foreign lobbying, fair enough. Let us have that conversation. But singling out AIPAC alone is not a search for truth. It is bias dressed up as bravery.

Anadolu / Contributor | Getty Images

If someone wants to question foreign aid to Israel, fine. Let’s have that debate. But let’s ask the right questions. The issue is not the size of the package but whether the aid advances our interests. What does the United States gain? Does the investment strengthen our position in the region? How does it compare to what we give other nations? And do we examine those countries with the same intensity?

The real target

These questions reflect good-faith scrutiny. But narrowing the entire argument to one country or one dollar amount misses the larger problem. If someone objects to the way America handles foreign aid, the target is not Israel. The target is the system itself — an entrenched bureaucracy, poor transparency, and decades-old commitments that have never been re-examined. Those problems run through programs around the world.

If you want answers, you need to broaden the lens. You have to be willing to put aside the movie script and confront reality. You have to hold yourself to a simple rule: Ask questions because you want the truth, not because you want a target.

That is the only way this country ever gets clarity on foreign aid, influence, alliances, and our place in the world. Questioning is not just allowed. It is essential. But only if it is honest.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

The melting pot fails when we stop agreeing to melt

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Texas now hosts Quran-first academies, Sharia-compliant housing schemes, and rapidly multiplying mosques — all part of a movement building a self-contained society apart from the country around it.

It is time to talk honestly about what is happening inside America’s rapidly growing Muslim communities. In city after city, large pockets of newcomers are choosing to build insulated enclaves rather than enter the broader American culture.

That trend is accelerating, and the longer we ignore it, the harder it becomes to address.

As Texas goes, so goes America. And as America goes, so goes the free world.

America has always welcomed people of every faith and people from every corner of the world, but the deal has never changed: You come here and you join the American family. You are free to honor your traditions, keep your faith, but you must embrace the Constitution as the supreme law of the land. You melt into the shared culture that allows all of us to live side by side.

Across the country, this bargain is being rejected by Islamist communities that insist on building a parallel society with its own rules, its own boundaries, and its own vision for how life should be lived.

Texas illustrates the trend. The state now has roughly 330 mosques. At least 48 of them were built in just the last 24 months. The Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex alone has around 200 Islamic centers. Houston has another hundred or so. Many of these communities have no interest in blending into American life.

This is not the same as past waves of immigration. Irish, Italian, Korean, Mexican, and every other group arrived with pride in their heritage. Still, they also raised American flags and wanted their children to be part of the country’s future. They became doctors, small-business owners, teachers, and soldiers. They wanted to be Americans.

What we are watching now is not the melting pot. It is isolation by design.

Parallel societies do not end well

More than 300 fundamentalist Islamic schools now operate full-time across the country. Many use Quran-first curricula that require students to spend hours memorizing religious texts before they ever reach math or science. In Dallas, Brighter Horizons Academy enrolls more than 1,700 students and draws federal support while operating on a social model that keeps children culturally isolated.

Then there is the Epic City project in Collin and Hunt counties — 402 acres originally designated only for Muslim buyers, with Sharia-compliant financing and a mega-mosque at the center. After public outcry and state investigations, the developers renamed it “The Meadows,” but a new sign does not erase the original intent. It is not a neighborhood. It is a parallel society.

Americans should not hesitate to say that parallel societies are dangerous. Europe tried this experiment, and the results could not be clearer. In Germany, France, and the United Kingdom, entire neighborhoods now operate under their own cultural rules, some openly hostile to Western norms. When citizens speak up, they are branded bigots for asserting a basic right: the ability to live safely in their own communities.

A crisis of confidence

While this separation widens, another crisis is unfolding at home. A recent Gallup survey shows that about 40% of American women ages 18 to 39 would leave the country permanently if given the chance. Nearly half of a rising generation — daughters, sisters, soon-to-be mothers — no longer believe this nation is worth building a future in.

And who shapes the worldview of young boys? Their mothers. If a mother no longer believes America is home, why would her child grow up ready to defend it?

As Texas goes, so goes America. And as America goes, so goes the free world. If we lose confidence in our own national identity at the same time that we allow separatist enclaves to spread unchecked, the outcome is predictable. Europe is already showing us what comes next: cultural fracture, political radicalization, and the slow death of national unity.

Brandon Bell / Staff | Getty Images

Stand up and tell the truth

America welcomes Muslims. America defends their right to worship freely. A Muslim who loves the Constitution, respects the rule of law, and wants to raise a family in peace is more than welcome in America.

But an Islamist movement that rejects assimilation, builds enclaves governed by its own religious framework, and treats American law as optional is not simply another participant in our melting pot. It is a direct challenge to it. If we refuse to call this problem out out of fear of being called names, we will bear the consequences.

Europe is already feeling those consequences — rising conflict and a political class too paralyzed to admit the obvious. When people feel their culture, safety, and freedoms slipping away, they will follow anyone who promises to defend them. History has shown that over and over again.

Stand up. Speak plainly. Be unafraid. You can practice any faith in this country, but the supremacy of the Constitution and the Judeo-Christian moral framework that shaped it is non-negotiable. It is what guarantees your freedom in the first place.

If you come here and honor that foundation, welcome. If you come here to undermine it, you do not belong here.

Wake up to what is unfolding before the consequences arrive. Because when a nation refuses to say what is true, the truth eventually forces its way in — and by then, it is always too late.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.