Kendrick is executive director of the Cory Glenville Community Center. He has worked with the Greater Hilltop Area Shalom Zone in Columbus serving people in poverty and engaging in advocacy through direct action such as food distribution, low-income housing and job training.
As the pastor of the historic Cory United Methodist Church in the Glenview neighborhood of Cleveland, Ohio, I have seen firsthand the immense value of physical spaces. Our church has been a beacon of hope, a sanctuary for activists and a platform for advocacy during the civil rights movement of the 20th century. The walls of Cory UMC have borne witness to the enthusiasm of passionate leaders and the birth of transformative ideas. In a society increasingly engrossed in digital realities, we must remember the significance of the tangible.
Our focus may have shifted towards developing sophisticated virtual platforms and augmented realities. Still, we must pay attention to physical surroundings – the spaces that foster human connection, house our history and serve our communities. We must recognize the power of place-making and the importance of civic engagement in shaping these spaces.
There is an urgent need to preserve places that foster opportunities for human interaction, self-sufficiency and a healthy community. Historic preservation, however, extends beyond merely saving old buildings, although that in itself is crucial. It is about preserving the stories within these structures, the narratives of our past that shape our present and future.
Historic preservation is at the heart of environmental justice, racial equity and human flourishing. Post-industrial cities are nursing the wounds of disinvestment and historical redlining; we must view these old edifices not as relics of a bygone era but as vessels of potential and abundance.
These places matter because they give life to our stories. "There are stories in these bricks," I thought as I observed our front steps' careful, selective demolition. Each brick, fired in giant kilns by the companies that built our cities, is a testament to the industry and ingenuity of our forebears. Each tells the story of the brick masons whose skilled hands shaped our streets and created our physical world.
These bricks bear the echoes of the congregations that gathered within their walls, the communities that envisioned places where people could debate ideas freely, share dreams and build a future for generations. They are living testaments to the adaptive reuse of our architectural heritage, a key to preservation-based economic development.
Places matter. Stories matter. They are the physical embodiment of our collective history, the tangible anchor to our shared past. They remind us of our journey, the struggles faced, the victories won, the dreams realized. They are the silent witnesses to our evolution as a society, our growth as a community and our potential as a people.
Over the years, my involvement with the Bridge Alliance's leadership initiatives has significantly deepened my understanding of the importance of place and story-sharing. The programs are a tapestry of diverse experiences, ideas and perspectives, exposing me to unique narratives from various communities across the nation. Engaging in meaningful dialogues, sharing experiences and brainstorming solutions to common issues, I've been privileged to witness the power of shared stories in shaping our understanding of place.
Like the bricks of Cory, our stories and experiences highlight a particular place's unique challenges and opportunities, further emphasizing the significance of preserving these physical spaces —the Bridge Alliance's learning exchange helps us discern that every place has a uniqueness to celebrate. Stories build bridges between communities, foster unity and promote understanding. They are reinforcing belief in the power of places and the stories they hold.
As a spiritual and civic leader, I'm committed to preserving and transforming our historic spaces and championing the cause of placemaking and civic engagement. Let us remember the value of our physical world in the age of virtual realities. Remember that in our quest for technological advancement, we must stay in the bricks and mortar that ground us in our shared history and humanity. Because places matter, so do the stories and people that result from them, making the community a reality.
U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio delivers a keynote speech at the 62nd Munich Security Conference on Saturday, Feb. 14, 2026, in Munich, Germany.
Marco Rubio is the only adult left in the room
Finally free from the demands of being chief archivist of the United States, secretary of state, national security adviser and unofficial viceroy of Venezuela, Marco Rubio made his way to the Munich Security Conference last weekend to deliver a major address.
I shouldn’t make fun. Rubio, unlike so many major figures in this administration, is a bona fide serious person. Indeed, that’s why President Trump keeps piling responsibilities on him. Rubio knows what he’s talking about and cares about policy. He is hardly a free agent; Trump is still president after all. But in an administration full of people willing to act like social media trolls, Rubio stands out for being serious. And I welcome that.
But just because Rubio made a serious argument, that doesn’t mean it was wholly persuasive. Part of his goal was to repair some of the damage done by his boss, who not long ago threatened to blow up the North Atlantic alliance by snatching Greenland away from Denmark. Rubio’s conciliatory language was welcome, but it hardly set things right.
Whether it was his intent or not, Rubio had more success in offering a contrast with Vice President JD Vance, who used the Munich conference last year as a platform to insult allies and provide fan service to his followers on X. Rubio’s speech was the one Vance should have given, if the goal was to offer a serious argument about Trump’s “vision” for the Western alliance. I put “vision” in scare quotes because it’s unclear to me that Trump actually has one, but the broader MAGA crowd is desperate to construct a coherent theory of their case.
So what’s that case? That Western Civilization is a real thing, America is not only part of it but also its leader, and it will do the hard things required to fix it.
In Rubio’s story, America and Europe embraced policies in the 1990s that amounted to the “managed decline” of the West. European governments were free riders on America’s military might and allowed their defense capabilities to atrophy as they funded bloated welfare states and inefficient regulatory regimes. Free trade, mass migration and an infatuation with “the rules-based global order” eroded national sovereignty, undermined the “cohesion of our societies” and fueled the “de-industrialization” of our economies. The remedy for these things? Reversing course on those policies and embracing the hard reality that strength and power drive events on the global stage.
“The fundamental question we must answer at the outset is what exactly are we defending,” Rubio said, “because armies do not fight for abstractions. Armies fight for a people; armies fight for a nation. Armies fight for a way of life.”
I agree with some of this — to a point. And, honestly, given how refreshing it is to hear a grown-up argument from this administration, it feels churlish to quibble.
But, for starters, the simple fact is that Western Civilization is an abstraction, and so are nations and peoples. And that’s fine. Abstractions — like love, patriotism, moral principles, justice — are really important. Our “way of life” is largely defined and understood through abstractions: freedom, the American dream, democracy, etc. What is the “Great” in Make America Great Again, if not an abstraction?
This is important because the administration’s defenders ridicule or dismiss any principled objection critics raise as fastidious gitchy-goo eggheadery. Trump tramples the rule of law, pardons cronies, tries to steal an election and violates free market principles willy-nilly. And if you complain, it’s because you’re a goody-goody fool.
As White House Deputy Chief of Staff Stephen Miller said not long ago, “we live in a world … that is governed by strength, that is governed by force, that is governed by power. These are the iron laws of the world that have existed since the beginning of time.” Rubio said it better, but it’s the same idea.
There are other problems with Rubio’s story. At the start of the 1990s, the EU’s economy was 9% bigger than ours. In 2025 we were nearly twice as rich as Europe. If Europe was “ripping us off,” they have a funny way of showing it. America hasn’t “deindustrialized.” The manufacturing sector has grown during all of this decline, though not as much as the service sector, where we are a behemoth. We have shed manufacturing jobs, but that has more to do with automation than immigration. Moreover, the trends Rubio describes are not unique to America. Manufacturing tends to shrink as countries get richer.
That’s an important point because Rubio, like his boss, blames all of our economic problems on bad politicians and pretends that good politicians can fix them through sheer force of will.
I think Rubio is wrong, but I salute him for making his case seriously.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.