The question of whether the United States has a tiered system of freedom, where different Americans experience varying levels of liberty and rights, goes to the heart of the ongoing struggle to live up to the nation's founding ideals of equality and justice for all.

On the surface, the principles enshrined in the Constitution and Bill of Rights, including the First Amendment's protection of free speech and assembly, are supposed to apply equally to all citizens, regardless of their race, gender, class, or political beliefs. The notion that these freedoms are inalienable and universal is a core tenet of the American creed, a promise that has inspired generations of activists and reformers to push the country to expand the circle of inclusion and opportunity.

However, the lived reality for many Americans has long fallen short of this lofty rhetoric. From the earliest days of the republic, when the blessings of liberty were explicitly denied to enslaved people, Indigenous nations, and women, to the present-day disparities in policing, voting access, and economic mobility, the experience of freedom has been profoundly shaped by one's identity and social position. In practice, if not always in law, America has indeed had a tiered system, where the ability to exercise one's rights and enjoy the full benefits of citizenship has been conditioned on factors like skin color, gender, wealth, and conformity to dominant cultural norms.

The current backlash against protest movements and voting rights, often led by right-wing political forces, is in many ways a continuation of this pattern, an attempt to preserve a status quo that privileges some voices and interests over others. By demonizing activists and imposing new barriers to the ballot box, these efforts seek to constrict the scope of permissible dissent and participation, effectively creating a hierarchy of citizenship where some have a greater say than others in shaping the direction of the country.

This is not to suggest that America's freedoms are illusory or that progress is impossible. The story of the United States is also one of courageous struggles to make the promise of liberty a reality for all, from the abolition of slavery and the women's suffrage movement to the civil rights era and the fight for LGBTQ+ equality. Repeatedly, ordinary people have harnessed the power of protest, organizing, and civic engagement to challenge entrenched systems of oppression and demand a seat at the table. And while these gains have often been partial and fragile, they have nonetheless transformed the nation's laws, institutions, and cultural norms in profound ways.

But as the current moment makes clear, this process of expanding freedom is not a one-way street, and it is never complete. Each generation must renew the fight to defend and extend the rights that earlier activists worked so hard to secure, and to resist the inevitable backlash from those who benefit from a more exclusionary social order.

In this sense, the apparent paradox of a nation that prides itself on being the beacon of liberty yet tolerates glaring inequities in the distribution of that liberty, is not an aberration but a central tension in the American experiment. It reflects the unfinished business of living up to our founding creed, the gap between the soaring rhetoric of freedom and the messy realities of power and privilege.

Ultimately, the question is not whether the United States will ever achieve a perfect union, but whether it will continue to strive towards that ideal, however halting and imperfect the progress may be. This requires a constant willingness to confront hard truths, to listen to the voices of the marginalized and oppressed, and to use the tools of democracy - protest, dissent, organizing, voting - to hold the powerful accountable and push for a more just and equitable society.

It also demands a recognition that freedom is not a fixed endpoint but an ongoing struggle, a collective work that requires the vigilance and commitment of every generation. As the great civil rights leader Fannie Lou Hamer put it, "Nobody's free until everybody's free." This is the challenge and the promise of the American experiment, the unfinished task of making the blessings of liberty real for all who call this nation home.

In an era when these values are under assault from those who seek to turn back the clock and restrict the boundaries of belonging, it falls to all Americans of conscience to resist this narrowing of our national promise. This means standing up for the right to protest and dissent, even when the causes may be unpopular or controversial. It means fighting efforts to suppress the vote or dilute the political power of marginalized communities. And it means nurturing a culture of empathy, solidarity, and shared responsibility, one that recognizes that our fates are bound together and that no one is truly free until all are free.

This is no easy task, especially in a time of deep polarization and social upheaval. But as earlier generations of freedom fighters have shown us, change is possible when ordinary people come together to demand it, when they refuse to accept the status quo as inevitable or just. In the end, the story of America's struggle for freedom is still being written, and it falls to all of us to shape its next chapter. The only question is whether we will rise to the challenge, and whether we will do so before it is too late.