The Slave Ship We Refuse to See

Op-Ed

They say he’s not one of us. That he doesn’t understand America. That he wasn’t born here, so how could he possibly know what we need?

But what they really mean is: he believes in something they’ve already given up on.

Assemblyman Zohran Mamdani has become a lightning rod—not because his ideas are so extreme, but because they force us to look in a mirror. He speaks with the clarity of someone not yet numbed by the American compromise. He believes the rich should be taxed. That housing should be affordable. That healthcare should be a right. That our lives shouldn’t be dictated by billionaires.

And for that, he’s being called dangerous.

Since 1978, CEO pay has skyrocketed by over 1,200%. The federal minimum wage? Barely 170%. These corporations aren’t lifting us up—they’re holding us down. They aren’t job creators. They’re extraction machines. They profit off of your exhaustion, your desperation, your quiet compliance. Then they turn around and tell you to be grateful.

We are not free. We are not equal. We are not even passengers.

We are slaves aboard a ship we refuse to see.

You may not think of yourself as a slave. You work hard. You pay your taxes. You’re proud of your country. But if you’re working 60 hours a week and still can’t afford rent—if your body is breaking down faster than your savings can keep up—if your children are inheriting debt instead of dreams—then what exactly do you call that?

It’s not freedom. It’s servitude with a punch clock.

And here’s the part that hits the hardest: The economic system that made you poor? It’s modeled on the same foundation that once shackled Black bodies to profit. Now it uses timecards, payday loans, and unaffordable healthcare. It divides you from others and convinces you to defend the very masters who keep you in chains.

The only difference between you and the people you look down on is what century you were born in.

Meanwhile, the ship has a captain: mega-corporations. It has loyal deckhands: the politicians they fund. And it has a rule: never rock the boat. Stay quiet. Stay angry. Blame someone below you, never above.

Then someone like Mamdani shows up and does the unthinkable. He believes in the American Dream.

And suddenly, everyone loses their minds.

Because when someone from the outside comes in and dares to believe in justice, fairness, and equity—it makes the rest of us feel exposed. We don’t fear him because he’s foreign. We fear him because he still has hope.

He flips the tables we’ve grown comfortable eating scraps from. And like every prophet who threatens empire, he is met not with welcome, but with rage.

We tell ourselves someone in power will save us. But if that were true, it would’ve happened by now.

No one is coming.

If we want off this ship, we have to jump.

And if we don’t? Then we are no longer the victims of this system.

We are its crew.