Tanks on the Street, Cuts in the Budget

For the past couple of months, I’ve been hearing about this big parade that’s happening on June 14—coinciding with Donald Trump’s birthday. It’s being held in Washington, D.C., and is being promoted as a massive military display to honor the 250th anniversary of the U.S. Army and Flag Day. But the fact that it also happens to land on Trump’s birthday—and that he’s taken such a strong role in branding it—makes it hard not to see this as more than just a patriotic celebration.

From what I’ve read, the event will include thousands of troops, tanks, flyovers, and even fireworks. It’s been described as “bigger than the Olympics,” and it’s expected to cost tens of millions of dollars. You can read more about the event in this article from TIME, which outlines what’s being planned.

That kind of scale caught my attention, not because I’m against celebrating our military—far from it. I think honoring our service members is one of the most important things we can do. We would not be the free nation we are today without the sacrifices of the men and women who have served. So many have given their lives, or returned home with injuries—physical and emotional—that changed them forever. That should never be taken lightly.

But even so, something about the timing and tone of this parade unsettles me. It’s being talked about with a kind of showmanship that feels more like self-promotion than national reflection. And I can’t help but think about everything else that’s happening right now—especially the people being impacted by government cuts and policy changes. It raises a question that’s hard to shake: Why is there always money for pageantry, but not for people?

What’s Being Cut – Real People, Real Impact

It’s worth noting that large-scale military parades like this are rare in the United States. The last time anything similar happened was in 1991, when President George H.W. Bush held a parade to mark the end of the Gulf War. Even that was controversial at the time. In more recent history, Donald Trump proposed a military parade in 2018, but it was canceled after budget concerns. That makes this year’s event stand out even more—not just because of its scale, but because it’s happening during a time when so many Americans are facing financial hardship and essential programs are being threatened.

My fiancé Josh and I rely on a rural development voucher to help with our housing. There’s been talk about cutting these kinds of programs, and while I don’t know yet whether those cuts will go through, just the possibility is enough to worry me—and a lot of other people. For folks in rural areas or low-income situations, programs like these make the difference between stability and displacement. It’s hard not to feel forgotten when these supports are always the first on the chopping block.

Just today, while I was waiting in the lab at my doctor’s office, I overheard a woman talking about how many people she’s spoken to recently who’ve lost their insurance or are struggling to keep coverage. She didn’t go into details, and it wasn’t my place to ask, but it made me think about how common that story has become. Across the country, millions have already lost Medicaid coverage in the past year after pandemic-era protections ended. Housing programs and food assistance are under threat in the latest budget talks. These aren’t abstract policy shifts—they’re impacting people right now. [Source: KFF Medicaid Unwinding Tracker]

I know some people will say that we can’t afford to give out more aid, or that the government shouldn’t support people in need. But somehow, there’s always money for tanks, jets, fireworks, and photo ops. That double standard makes me angry. It feels like people in power are more comfortable showing off strength than showing compassion. It feels like a celebration of might, not mercy—and I believe that says something painful about where we are as a country.

At the same time, I’ve seen the posts on social media—and I understand the concern some people have. Just recently, my mom shared something on Facebook where folks were frustrated about people who “don’t want to work” and still get government aid. And to be honest, I get that. I don’t support taking advantage of the system, either. But what frustrates me is that the conversation often stops there. When people assume everyone receiving help is lazy or dishonest, it hurts those of us who truly need the support just to survive. We’re not trying to abuse anything—we’re just trying to get by.

We’re told that helping struggling families is too expensive. But is it really, if there’s room in the budget for a multimillion-dollar spectacle? I don’t mind honoring our nation. I do mind when it’s done at the expense of those who need help the most.

Pageantry vs. Priorities

Some people say the men and women in Washington just want power. Others support the Trump administration and believe these cuts are necessary or that they strengthen the country. Everyone has a right to their beliefs. But I still have to ask: how can we justify spending tens of millions of dollars on a parade like this—especially one that seems so focused on spectacle—while there are so many people in our country struggling to meet their basic needs?

I’m not against honoring the military. I think a small, meaningful celebration would be entirely appropriate. But this event feels different. It’s massive, it’s expensive, and whether it’s officially about Trump’s birthday or not, it’s hard to ignore the way he’s made it part of his personal brand. Even if it had nothing to do with his birthday, it still leaves a bitter taste when you compare it to what so many Americans are going through.

There’s always talk about how people “just need to get a job” or stop relying on government help. I understand those concerns—really, I do. I don’t support taking advantage of the system, and I know there are people who try to. But that’s not the whole story. What about the people who can’t work? The elderly, the disabled, those who’ve tried and been turned away? They deserve dignity and support too.

It feels like we’re becoming a nation that rewards power and wealth, while turning our backs on those who need compassion the most. If the government helps a wealthy corporation, no one blinks. But if it helps a low-income person with food or housing, it suddenly becomes “wasteful spending.” That double standard is heartbreaking. When did we decide that only the privileged are worth investing in?

Sometimes I wonder if we’re slipping into a survival-of-the-fittest mindset, where those who can’t keep up just get left behind. And if that’s the case, what does that say about us? Are we proud of that? Are we okay with ignoring our neighbors while we cheer on tanks and fireworks?

I may be idealistic, but I still believe we can do better. I believe we should celebrate kindness, care, and community—not just displays of power. A country that only honors its strength while ignoring its people isn’t truly strong. It’s just loud.

I’m not against people having money. I don’t resent success. But I do believe there’s something wrong when so many people are struggling, and the government seems more bothered by those in need than by how freely it spends on the things it values—like grand parades or corporate bailouts. The gap between the rich and the poor in this country has only gotten wider over the years. That’s not just an economic issue—it’s a moral one. A nation should care about all its people, not just the ones who can afford to be heard.

I know some people would disagree with me. They might say it’s not the government’s job to take care of others. But I think that’s a sad way to look at what a society should be. We’re not just a collection of individuals—we’re a community. Or at least we should be.

A Call for Compassion

I know this post may come off as critical, but it’s coming from a place of care—a care for the people who are often forgotten in these national conversations. I don’t write this because I hate America. I write this because I love it, and I believe we can be better than this. We have the resources. We have the talent. What we’re missing is the will to prioritize people over pageantry.

We could choose to invest in one another. We could choose to lift up the vulnerable instead of shaming them. We could recognize that true strength doesn’t come from tanks or fireworks—but from the quiet, everyday acts of support and sacrifice that often go unseen.

What if we celebrated people getting access to healthcare the way we celebrate military might? What if we were just as proud of feeding hungry families as we are of jet flyovers? What if we built monuments to compassion, not just to conquest?

I don’t have all the answers. I’m just one voice. But I believe that asking these questions—and refusing to look away when something doesn’t feel right—is part of being a good citizen, a good neighbor, and a good human being.

My hope is that we’ll move toward a country that values empathy just as much as strength. That we’ll remember that freedom isn’t just about power—it’s about people. And that we’ll find the courage to speak up for those who can’t always speak for themselves.

Because in the end, what kind of nation are we building—if we forget to care for the people in it?