"Who radicalized you?"
You did. I listened to the lessons you poured over me like you were trying to drown me in them. Be polite. Be kind. Treat others the way you want to be treated. If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.
But for some reason, the same lessons you worked so hard to teach me as a child are now the same ideologies that you call weak, communist, snowflake propaganda. I don't even believe in God anymore, but I'm pretty sure Jesus wouldn't do this.
Who radicalized you? Who taught you that the best way to raise a child was to teach them kindness, then turn your back when they take your lesson to heart? Who taught you that it's ok to plant the seed of a revolutionary movement only to cut it down the moment it finally sprouts? Who taught you to say one thing but act another? Who taught you to hate so much?
I am the monster you created, and now you hide in shame from the beast, raising pitchforks and torches and rallying others to do the same. Yet I am left confused, abandoned by the one who made me this way, hated for the way you made me.
Do you see how inside out it all is? Do you see why that question is the very reason I am radicalized? Because it didn't used to be radicalized to be kind, or caring, or empathetic. It just used to be how you're supposed to be.