Grief deserves sacred space. So does truth. If you feel called to speak

A public memorial is supposed to be a place to grieve, remember, and — if the family chooses — to begin healing. What we witnessed at the recent large-scale remembrance for Charlie Kirk was all of that and something else: a charged, theatrical gathering that swept tens of thousands into a single emotional current. That current—powerful, visceral, and contagious—can comfort us. It can also be directed, amplified, and monetized. I believe it’s worth naming what happened, asking sober questions, and protecting the vulnerable in the room: especially the children.

What happened (briefly & factually)

Charlie Kirk was killed while speaking on a college campus; the event and its aftermath drew massive attention and a high-profile memorial that attracted political figures and large crowds. Erika Kirk publicly expressed forgiveness for the man charged in her husband’s killing. Federal authorities say they are investigating the possibility of accomplices, and fundraising for Turning Point USA and related efforts reportedly spiked after the killing. Financial Times+2The Guardian+2

Why I’m writing this — a clear point of view

Out of respect I will not diminish the family’s grief. Forgiveness is a brave, real, and deeply personal act; if Erika Kirk has chosen forgiveness, that is her right and her path. But forgiveness of an individual (one person accused of committing the act) is not the same thing as forgiving a system or a larger force that may have helped create the conditions for mass spectacle, political theater, or rapid fundraising. That distinction matters — especially when children are present and when powerful organizations step in to channel public sorrow into political momentum and donations. The Guardian

The crowd effect: science and social history

Sociologists call the intense, synchronized emotional state that emerges in big gatherings collective effervescence — a real psychological and social phenomenon identified by Émile Durkheim and studied in modern social science. When thousands chant, cry, or sway together, individual emotions amplify into group emotion; objects or people in that space can become “sacred” in the social sense, and the group’s energy can be harnessed for many ends — healing, unity, or, yes, influence. Understanding that dynamic helps explain why a memorial can feel both holy and highly effective as a mobilizing machine. Wikipedia+1

Energy-harvesting as metaphor — and why popular culture uses it

We use metaphors to make sense of what we feel. In films like The Matrix and Jupiter Ascending the idea of humans as “batteries” or “harvested resources” is literalized: stories where masses feed a system’s power are striking because they dramatize what can happen when human emotion is synchronized and then redirected. Those fictional images are useful metaphors for how political, religious, or commercial organizations can take collective feeling and turn it into money, loyalty, or political capital. (See: The Matrix (1999) and Jupiter Ascending (2015).) Wikipedia+1

What I’m seeing at the memorial: a careful reading (opinion, not an accusation)

The timing and choreography of mass events matters. A very large memorial, staged on a day with notable celestial attention and heavy public awareness, becomes more than a funeral — it becomes an event with momentum. (Yes, September 21–22, 2025 featured notable astronomical events that many people were watching.) Time and Date+1
When tens of thousands cry, chant, and pledge together, that shared state converts into action: donations, pledges of loyalty, social-media campaigns, and political energy. Those outcomes are real and measurable (you can see fundraising surges after high-profile memorials). The Guardian
That does not mean the grief was fake, or that the family wanted opportunism. But it is reasonable — responsible, even — to ask who organized what, why particular dates and venues were chosen, and how the resulting emotional momentum will be used. Asking those questions is an act of civic vigilance, not disrespect. Financial Times

The practical part: protect the kids, protect your mind

If you attended or watched: check in on children and young people who were there. Big events can leave kids stunned, frightened, or emotionally primed for radical beliefs.
If you’re donating: pause and ask for specifics. Where does the money go? Who controls the funds? How will the money be used long-term?
If you’re grieving: allow yourself silence, therapy, and small, private rituals — grief doesn’t need to be performed publicly to be real.
If you’re skeptical of the media narrative: do what skepticism requires — document, read multiple reputable sources, and demand official transparency before drawing sweeping conclusions. (Skepticism is healthy when it seeks facts rather than only spreading doubt.)

A short reading & resource list

Coverage & timeline of the shooting and memorial (news outlets): Financial Times; The Guardian; AP. Financial Times+2The Guardian+2
FBI statements and investigation updates (official source): FBI press releases on the Utah Valley shooting. Federal Bureau of Investigation
On collective effervescence: Émile Durkheim (overview) and contemporary reviews of group emotion in psychological literature. Wikipedia+1
Cultural metaphors: The Matrix (1999) and Jupiter Ascending (2015) — useful fictional depictions of humans-as-resources. Wikipedia+1

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A respectful look at how massive memorials convert grief into power — why timing, crowd psychology, and money matter, and how to protect the kids.

Disclaimer

This essay is an opinion piece — a social and cultural reading of public events, not an accusation of criminal wrongdoing by any named institution. I respect the family’s grief and I express sympathy for everyone affected by the tragedy. My goal is to invite citizens to ask questions, protect vulnerable people, and think critically about how mass emotion can be guided after a public loss.

About the author

A.L. Childers (pen name of Audrey Childers) is a writer who blends cultural analysis, history, and personal reflection. She writes on power, ritual, and how public life shapes private feeling. Her latest book explores contested religious narratives and hidden histories: The Forbidden Gospel of John: From Sinai to Nicaea and the Prison of Flesh, — a book that invites readers to question accepted stories and think for themselves.

Final note / Call to action

Grief deserves sacred space. So does truth. If you feel called to speak, do it with care: protect the children, demand transparency where appropriate, and don’t let public sorrow be harvested without accountability. Stay awake. Stay humane. And if you found this piece useful, subscribe for more grounded cultural analysis and sources.