Spending a week at the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression (FIRE) forum at American University changed how I think about free speech, especially in difficult moments like the aftermath of Charlie Kirk’s killing.
In the days that followed, people were fired or punished for comments seen as insensitive or supportive of the violence. What stood out to me was not just what people said, but how quickly reactions shifted depending on who was speaking. People who often criticized cancel culture suddenly supported consequences for speech they found offensive. It made me question whether free speech is truly a principle we believe in, or something we defend only when it is convenient.
That question feels personal to me. My grandparents lived in Argentina during the military dictatorship in the early 1970s, when speaking out against the government was dangerous. People who spoke out were not just silenced socially, they were arrested, and many were tortured or killed. Some simply disappeared.
My mom was born during this time, and her family fled when she was just one year old. Growing up, I have heard these stories not as distant history, but as something that shaped my family’s life. Because of that, I cannot think about free speech as an abstract idea. I see what can happen when it is taken away.
With that perspective, my time at FIRE helped me better understand why the First Amendment is written the way it is. It is not designed to protect speech that is widely accepted or easy to hear. It exists to protect speech that people may strongly dislike.
One of the most impactful moments of the forum was hearing from Daryl Davis, a Black musician and activist, who spent years engaging directly with members of the Ku Klux Klan. Instead of shutting down conversations with people who held deeply racist beliefs, he chose to talk with them, listen, and challenge them through dialogue. Over time, many of those individuals left the Klan, not because their opinions were silenced, but because their views were confronted and changed through conversation.
These conversations eventually helped build long lasting relationships, to the point where Davis stepped in to walk a former Klansman’s fiancé down the aisle. His experience showed me that allowing speech, even when it is offensive, can create opportunities for understanding and change in ways that punishment or censorship cannot. `
The First Amendment should protect people from being punished by the government for what they say, except in cases of inciting violence or real threats. If we only defend free speech when we agree with it, then it is no longer something we can all rely on. It becomes something we apply selectively, depending on who is speaking.
My family’s history makes that danger feel real. Once speech began to be controlled in Argentina, it no longer mattered what people believed or said. The system decided who was allowed to speak and who was not. That is why I believe the legal limits on speech should be narrow. At the same time, I believe we all carry responsibility in how we use our words. Free speech gives us the right to speak, but it also challenges us to use that right thoughtfully.
Protecting speech, even when it is uncomfortable, is not easy. But from what I have ; learned, both from my family and from my experience at FIRE, it is necessary.
Nora Kallusky is a junior at Ridgefield High School. This commentary won first-place in a high school essay contest sponsored by the Connecticut Foundation for Open Government.