The Silence I Can’t Justify Anymore

There’s a difference between being careful and being complicit.

And for a long time, I’ve tried to be careful.

I’ve given grace to leaders and institutions I once trusted, because I believed they were doing the best they could in a system that’s messy and complicated. I believed that with time, with the right information, with the right relationships, they would step up and say what needed to be said.

But they haven’t.

And I’ve reached the point where I can no longer be silent just because it’s uncomfortable to speak.

I’m watching things unfold that feel ethically indefensible—things I once hoped were misunderstandings or missteps. Things I tried to gently raise, hoping someone else would connect the dots. But no one has. And so now, I will.

We cannot allow for-profit referral agencies to sit on the boards of publicly funded nonprofit aging agencies.

We cannot pretend this is neutral.

We cannot keep saying we care about older adults while enabling systems that quietly steer them toward profit-driven decisions.

This is happening. Right here. In Southern Maine.

And I no longer have the luxury of pretending it’s not.

This post isn’t about naming names.

Not yet.

It’s about drawing a line.

I’ve worked too hard, lost too much, and seen too clearly to protect systems that refuse to protect the people they claim to serve.

The families I support don’t have time to wait for politics to catch up with principle.

And I don’t either.

So from this point forward, I will speak with clarity.

I will act with purpose.

And I will not stay silent for the sake of decorum.

This isn’t personal.

This is about accountability.

I still believe people can choose to do the right thing.

But I no longer believe silence helps them get there.