It has come to it, my friends. We are in a state of rebellion. However, our rebellion is of the most peculiar kind. We did not pick up arms. Instead, we picked up the pen and a clipboard. We did not seek to overthrow government and institutions. Instead, we appealed to reason and reform. We did not seek the destruction of anyone or anything. Instead, we sought creation—and the flourishing of community.

Indeed, we are a peculiar rebel lot in the eyes of history insofar as political change is concerned. If we look back into the halls of history, political change has so often been paved with death and destruction, the old swept away so the new might ascend. Imagine a history in which Caesar crossed the Rubicon merely to talk to Pompey, or the French people petitioned King Louis rather than showing him the guillotine. Truly, political revolutions would carry a much more sober, procedural connotation rather than be accompanied by dread and uncertainty.

At the risk of sounding melancholic, our rebellion is not marked by a violent transformation of the status quo. Instead, we turn inward with a stoic disposition—much like the reforms championed by our predecessors during the Civil Rights Movement—one that, I believe, not only creates the transformation we seek but inspires it in others. Ours is a rebellion of conscience, patience, and courage. It is slower, quieter, and often misunderstood. But it is no less revolutionary. It is a rebellion against an era of new political masters—a rebellion that seeks to ensure political freedom for all, not just those with the loudest voices dominating the two-party system.

This spirit is deeply rooted here in North Carolina. Long before independence was declared in Philadelphia, North Carolinians were already living its meaning. Our state was first in freedom—first to authorize its delegates to vote for independence, first to declare that self-government was not merely an idea but a duty. That legacy is not a relic of the past; it is a responsibility passed down to us. As we approach the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, we are reminded that freedom was never meant to be inherited passively. It must be practiced, renewed, and defended—sometimes not with force, but with resolve.

Our rebellion brings to mind the immortal words of French philosopher Albert Camus: “The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.” Written at the end of World War II, Camus sought to translate his experience during the Nazi occupation of France into words that captured both subjugation and hope. In my estimation, these words go straight to the core of our political project—and our particular act of rebellion.

Camus points us toward an idea both simple and profound: when people live in a world where freedom feels constrained, the most powerful response is to embrace one’s personal freedom completely. To live truthfully, thoughtfully, and without surrendering one’s conscience is itself a form of resistance. Simply by being free and true to ourselves, we rebel against forces that seek to limit, divide, or diminish us.

This resonates today. Whether through rigid political mandates, institutional inertia, or social coercion, many Americans feel their political freedom is under threat by a system no longer operating in the people’s best interests. Yet Camus reminds us that rebellion does not require rage or destruction. It can be sober. It can be principled. It can be hopeful. By refusing to change who we are out of fear—by acting with integrity and determination—we resist in our own way through the full embrace of freedom. This is the rebellion of the North Carolina Forward Party.

We are not here to burn down the house. We are here to repair it. We are not here to replace one orthodoxy with another, but to reopen the space for common sense, human dignity, and self-government. In a time of deep polarization, choosing collaboration over contempt is itself an act of rebellion. In a time of cynicism, choosing hope is radical.

As we honor the approaching 250th anniversary of independence, let us remember that the Declaration was not only a statement of separation—it was a commitment to mutual responsibility. It declared that a free people would govern themselves, together. That work is unfinished, and it is ours.

Today, we ask our community to take one small but meaningful step in that tradition. We are seeking 250 donations—of whatever amount you can provide—as a symbol of shared ownership in this empowering, joyful rebellion. Two hundred and fifty acts of participation. Two hundred and fifty affirmations that freedom is not abstract, but lived. These contributions are not about money alone; they are about commitment, agency, and belief in a better political future for North Carolina.

In an unfree world, to choose engagement over apathy is rebellion. To choose reason over outrage is rebellion. To choose hope over despair is rebellion.

And that, my friends, is exactly what we push forward to achieve. This is why we exist—and this is our act of rebellion.