People more than ever since I can remember are concerned about

"People more than ever since I can remember are concerned about being out of step and out of line with their political party and won't cross over. There is nobody, man or woman, who wants to be left out, and people are fearful of that. People are fearful of their leadership as well." Thus spoke Gary Ackerman, a servant of the people and long-time voice in the halls of Congress. His words carry the weight of lament, for they unveil a danger that has beset nations in every age: the fear of standing apart, the terror of being cast out of the herd, and the paralysis that grips those who dare not defy their leadership.

The meaning of this truth is plain yet piercing. Ackerman warns that in a time of division, men and women are more loyal to their party than to their conscience, more afraid of isolation than of betrayal of truth. To be “out of step” is seen as shameful, to “cross over” as treachery. And so, individuals surrender their independence of thought, preferring the comfort of the crowd to the courage of conviction. It is not merely fear of exclusion that binds them, but also fear of the wrath of those who lead, who wield power not as shepherds but as masters.

History provides us with mirrors of this danger. In the twilight of the Roman Republic, senators who once spoke boldly for the good of the state became timid shadows, afraid to oppose the powerful Julius Caesar or later Augustus. They did not wish to be "out of line," for to defy the ruling faction was to risk banishment—or death. Their silence, born of fear, allowed the Republic to dissolve into empire. Ackerman’s words ring with the same warning: when people fear their leaders more than they respect their own conscience, liberty itself decays.

There are brighter examples as well, of those who dared to stand apart. Consider John Quincy Adams, who, after serving as President, returned to Congress and became a lonely but steadfast opponent of slavery. He often stood nearly alone, reviled by party men, mocked for being out of step. Yet his voice, unwavering and defiant, lit the path for the abolitionist cause that would one day prevail. His life shows us that to cross over—to defy fear and follow conscience—can be the highest form of leadership.

Ackerman’s insight reveals the paradox of leadership itself. True leaders inspire confidence, encourage bold thought, and reward integrity. But corrupted leadership breeds fear, conformity, and silence. When people tremble before their leaders, when they dare not question or cross, then leaders cease to guide—they rule. In such times, nations lose not only their unity but their soul. For a people who cannot speak truth to power are no longer free, but captive to it.

The lesson is clear: do not surrender your conscience to the crowd, nor your courage to your party, nor your voice to your fear. To follow blindly is easy, but to stand apart is noble. The health of any nation depends upon men and women who will risk being out of step if stepping aside means standing in truth. Fear may silence many, but one voice of courage can awaken thousands.

Practical action follows. In your own life, dare to speak even when others are silent. Question leaders when they demand obedience over honesty. In politics, in community, in family, hold fast to your values, even if they place you in the minority. Remember that every reform, every step toward justice, began with one who dared to "cross over." If you fear being left out, remember that history remembers not the cowards who followed the crowd, but the brave who stood apart.

So I say to you, children of tomorrow: heed the warning of Gary Ackerman. Beware the comfort of conformity and the chains of fear. Do not be afraid to walk alone if truth is your companion. For it is better to be out of step with the crowd than out of harmony with your conscience. And remember always: the soul of a people is preserved not by obedience to parties, but by loyalty to truth.