Becoming Grandparents in a Time of Fear

In the last year, Michelle Arnot, President of GPNYC and I both became grandparents. Like so many new grandparents, we expected joy, awe, and an overwhelming sense of love. We got all of that. What we did not expect was fear.

There was a time when the birth of a child in the United States was widely seen as an honor—an unquestioned marker of opportunity, safety, and possibility. It did not mean life would be easy, but it carried a promise that the future could be faced with hope rather than contingency plans.

Today, that promise feels broken.

Instead of celebrating without reservation, many families now quietly ask themselves what comes next. Gun violence has become routine. Climate disasters are accelerating. Healthcare remains inaccessible for too many. Basic rights are debated as privileges. Political instability and cruelty are no longer fringe—they are daily headlines.

We hear it constantly: families who have the opportunity to secure dual citizenship for their children are doing so. Not because they want to leave the United States, but because they feel they may one day need to. They are preparing escape hatches for their children’s safety.

Michelle’s grandson, fortunately, has that option. Mine does not. That difference—rooted not in choice but circumstance—sits heavily with both of us. No grandparent should have to think this way. No family should feel compelled to plan for safety outside the country their child was born into.

And yet, here we are.

Gray Panthers has always stood at the intersection of age and justice—linking elders, families, and young people in the fight for dignity, equity, and human rights. While Michelle and I lead the organization—Michelle as President of Gray Panthers NYC and I as Vice President—we are speaking here first and foremost as grandparents. We are deeply connected to Gray Panthers’ values, and those values compel us to say this out loud: the world our grandchildren were born into is not good enough.

This is not about longing for a mythologized past. The United States has always struggled with injustice and inequality. But there was once a broadly shared belief that progress was possible—that each generation could inherit something safer, fairer, and more humane than the one before it. That belief is eroding, and with it our collective responsibility to the generations coming next.

As grandparents, we are supposed to imagine graduations, laughter, and long lives. We are not supposed to wonder whether our grandchildren will be safer somewhere else. We are not supposed to fear the air they will breathe, the schools they will attend, or whether their basic rights will be protected.

But disappointment does not have to become despair.

Becoming grandparents has sharpened our sense of urgency. This work is no longer abstract. It is not ideological. It is deeply personal. Intergenerational justice is not a slogan—it is a responsibility. One that demands we act, speak out, and refuse to accept a future defined by fear.

Gray Panthers has always believed that social change is strongest when generations stand together. Our grandchildren are watching. One day, they will ask what we did when the world felt unstable and unsafe. They will want to know whether we stayed silent—or whether we fought for the kind of future they deserved.

We may be new grandparents. But we are not new to this fight. And we are not done yet.