History has always been made at the edge of chaos—where rough seas meet the first light.
Let’s be honest: neutrality has become the most convenient lie of modern society.
We’re told neutrality is noble. Respectable. The high road. But more often than not, neutrality becomes a mask—for apathy, for comfort, for the kind of quiet cowardice that shows up when the stakes are highest: human lives, dignity, and basic rights.
So I set out to create something different—a space, a conduit, a community. That space is The Commons, built around a simple, unflinching truth: we are not neutral. Through my company, Simply Edyn & Co., I launched a blog, The Commons Dispatch, where I’ll be sharing thoughts, resources, reflections, and a place to begin. A space to hold that truth and speak it plainly, for anyone willing to listen.
I’ll also be launching a weekly newsletter soon, created to offer rhythm, clarity, and connection in these uncertain times—because we don’t live in neutral times. And we won’t pretend otherwise.
We live in a moment where cruelty is policy, where compassion is politicized, where facts are questioned and feelings are weaponized. A moment when communities are actively being stripped of rights, of voice, of safety, of breath—while institutions hide behind false balance and performative both-sides-ism. And so many people, even the well-meaning ones, still default to silence under the banner of not wanting to “get political.”
But part of what makes this moment so heavy isn’t just the injustice—it’s the toll it takes on us as individuals. The mental, emotional, and spiritual weight of witnessing harm—again and again—doesn’t land the same for everyone. Some carry it in their bodies. Some carry it in their sleep. Some carry it in silence.
That’s why The Commons exists not just as a place for clarity, but also for care. A space where we can each show up as we are—wherever we are—and still feel safe enough to evolve. To contribute in a way that does good, and causes the least harm. There is no single “right” way to engage. This is not about shame or urgency for urgency’s sake. It’s about recognizing that we all hold different thresholds—and honoring the courage it takes just to stay present.
So no, silence isn’t the answer. But gentleness matters too. We don’t need everyone to show up the same way. We just need each other to keep showing up—with intention, with care, and with enough honesty to admit when we’re tired… and when we’re ready.
But let me say this plainly: the erosion of humanity is political. The gaslighting of entire communities is political. The targeting of the vulnerable, the rewriting of history, the banning of books, the silencing of voices—all of it is political. And it has consequences.
So when we say The Commons is not neutral, we’re not just talking about our point of view—we’re talking about our responsibility.
We don’t believe in neutrality when it comes to justice. We don’t believe in silence when it comes to cruelty. And we damn sure don’t believe in being neutral about who gets to live freely, safely, and fully in this world.
The Commons is a space for clarity. For conviction. For care.
It’s where art, culture, politics, and humanity converge. It’s where the writers, thinkers, creators, and everyday people who are awake—truly awake—come to name what they see, make meaning of it, and move toward something better.
We don’t ask for perfection. But we ask for presence. We ask for honesty. We ask that you come with your eyes open, and your heart willing to stretch.
Because being not neutral doesn’t mean being divisive. It means standing in the truth—even when it’s uncomfortable. Especially then. It means making a choice not to play it safe when others are being made unsafe. It means daring to speak up when others would rather scroll past.
And if we’re being real: neutrality was never actually neutral. It has always served the status quo. And the status quo has always served the powerful.
The Commons, Not Neutral is our call to think more deeply. To feel more honestly. To act more intentionally. It’s our refusal to look away. Our protest against erasure. Our insistence that we can hold beauty and rage, joy and grief, complexity and clarity—all in the same breath.
The Commons isn’t just a collection. It’s a stance. It’s a philosophy. It’s a whisper to some and a shout to others.
It’s also how we find one another. A way to remember we’re not alone. The Commons Collection was created to hold that truth in tangible form—a shared signal for those who care deeply, feel fully, and still choose to show up. Not as saviors, but as neighbors. Not in silence, but with steady courage.
You do not have to contort yourself into silence to be thoughtful. You do not have to erase your convictions to be kind. You do not have to sit in the middle just because the middle feels safer.
Engaging with people who stand against what we believe—who cheer for book bans, policy violence, and the silencing or erasure of real lives—requires clarity and caution. Not everyone is open to dialogue, and not every conversation is safe to have. But when possible, we can name what’s true without watering it down. We can protect our energy, set firm boundaries, and still choose to be rooted in compassion—not for their comfort, but for our own integrity. We don’t match their hatred with more hate. We meet it with discernment, with solidarity, and with the wisdom to know when to walk away—and when to stand our ground.
And as the volume of cruelty rises, we’ve also seen something else: the quiet retreat of mainstream media from the very places where courage is most needed. Whether from fear, fatigue, or profit, many have chosen performance over principle, balance over bravery. Maybe it was never their place to hold the line. Maybe their silence only reveals what’s always been true—that the responsibility to name what’s real, to speak what matters, to carry forward the truth with clarity and care, lives with us. With artists and organizers. With teachers and neighbors. With those who refuse to let history be revised in real time.
We fill those gaps—not perfectly, but with purpose. With integrity. And that, too, is a form of power.
Come stand in the light with us.
This is The Commons.
And we are not neutral.
T.M.
Published as part of The Commons Dispatch — a weekly offering of honest reflection, resistance, and cultural clarity from Simply Edyn & Co.