Free speech is America’s greatest protection against tyranny. It also creates one of our greatest vulnerabilities to foreign enemies. Our challenge is to defend that freedom without letting our enemies turn it against us. The First Amendment protects free speech for good reason. Once government gets to decide which opinions are allowed, every other freedom becomes less secure. But the same openness that lets Americans criticize the government, organize movements, and argue for radical ideas can also be exploited by enemies who would never permit that freedom at home. In America and the West, people are free to fund nonprofits, organize protests, build campus movements, and use social media to shape public opinion, even against the country’s own institutions. You wouldn’t be allowed to use those same tools to undermine the regime in China, Iran, Russia, or North Korea. Those governments keep a tight grip on their universities, media, and public square. That asymmetry is how a free society becomes vulnerable. Every society produces fringe ideas. That’s normal. But potentially harmful ideas usually remain harmless as long as they stay fringe. They become dangerous and divisive when someone gives them money, legitimacy, and a way to spread. Right now, self-destructive beliefs that once remained on the fringe are growing in popularity across America and the West. Some of these ideas surely started organically. But that doesn’t mean these ideas are spreading at this scale on their own. They can also be magnified by foreign money flowing into the universities, nonprofits, and platforms that shape the worldview of millions of Americans. Take energy. Radical activists push to block pipelines, shut down nuclear plants, and eliminate coal in the name of saving the planet, while China keeps burning cheap coal to power its economy. Taken to its extreme, this agenda, dressed up as climate virtue, becomes a form of industrial self-destruction while handing our competitors a massive economic advantage. Or take immigration. Done right, legal and controlled with real integration, it’s a strength. Done wrong, an unchecked open-borders policy is a recipe for national self-destruction. No rational state would allow indiscriminate migration on a scale that destabilizes its own society. Yet many Western constituencies now treat basic self-preservation as something shameful. We don’t need to prove that foreign money is the main driver of every self-destructive belief spreading through America. The vulnerability itself is the problem. Hostile governments don’t need to invent these ideas from scratch. They only need to find the radical ideas already capable of tearing us apart and fund their growth. Adversaries who have spent decades studying how to weaken America would be foolish to pass up such an obvious opening. Why spend trillions trying to beat America militarily when a fraction of that can get Americans to do the work for them? What can we actually do about this? Not censorship of Americans. That would be the most dangerous response. Americans have every right to argue and protest against America itself. That’s part of the deal free speech gives us. If we answer foreign manipulation by giving the government the power to police what Americans believe, we expose ourselves to something worse than foreign influence: a government powerful enough to turn against its own citizens. The First Amendment has to stay fully intact. The better answer is to extend a principle America already accepts: foreign money should not be allowed to shape American public life from the shadows. Foreign nationals already can’t donate to American elections. FARA requires certain foreign agents to register and disclose their activities here. Those laws exist because America understands that foreign money can be weaponized, and that foreign influence can be restricted or exposed without touching any American’s right to speak. We should apply that same logic more broadly to nonprofits, universities, and advocacy groups that shape American culture and politics. The distinction should stay simple: ordinary commerce is fine. Foreign money financing domestic influence is not. Foreigners can buy products, hire American companies, or pay full price for their own children’s education here. That is foreign money exchanged for real goods and services, and it’s not the problem. The problem is foreign governments, foreign nationals, or foreign-controlled groups endowing chairs, funding programs, or financing research in ways aimed at shaping our culture, our politics, or how young Americans are educated. If Americans want to fund radical climate activism or open-border movements, that’s their right. The First Amendment protects them. Americans are free to be wrong and free to be radical. But the First Amendment does not require us to let foreign adversaries bankroll our national self-destruction. Perhaps a broad restriction is too blunt an instrument. We would welcome any narrower solutions that actually work. At the very least, full transparency about which foreign governments, foreign nationals, and foreign-controlled entities are funding our nonprofit institutions would be a good first step. But transparency alone may not be enough. According to the Department of Education’s 2025 foreign-funding disclosures, Qatar was the largest foreign source of reportable gifts and contracts to American universities, including Harvard and Carnegie Mellon, with China third. Qatar alone accounted for more than $1 billion. That fact is already public, since federal law requires universities to report large foreign gifts and contracts. Yet the money keeps flowing anyway. At some point, transparency must be followed by real restrictions on foreign money flowing into causes designed to reshape American society. America does not need to become less free to protect itself. It needs to stop being naive. Our enemies understand that free speech in an open society can be used against it. We are under no obligation to give them the tools to turn our freedom against us. If we want free speech to survive, we need to defend not just our right to speak, but the society that makes that right worth having in the first place. *** Rabbi Elie Feder, PhD, and Rabbi Aaron Zimmer host the “Physics to God” podcast.

My Dearest America, From across your northern border, from a nation that has enjoyed the serene luxury of your shadow and your shelter, I write to you on the occasion of your 250th birthday — as a grateful beloved and not some moralistic scold or resentful neighbor. For I am acutely aware that the liberties I enjoy, and the clarity with which I know myself free, are gifts of your thought, your daring, and your existence. I am a Canadian woman, yes, but in the profoundest sense that matters — one which appeals to nature and not to passports — I am your daughter. Others will say you are a “propositional nation,” while some still cling to the hope that you are a “heritage nation.” Both miss the point, because each misunderstands the revolution behind what you really did and who you really are. The radicalism of your proposition lies in its claim to be true by nature. In brief, you are and will be true in all times and places. You did something unprecedented: you took equality and liberty out of the realm of myth, custom, and historical accident, and you wrote them on the tablet of nature itself. “All men are created equal.” You said that what you claim depends not on particular English habits, Protestant temperament, or colonial grievances; it depends on the soul. That is why I, a foreigner, can claim you with gratitude and seriousness. The moment you say “created equal,” you obliterate the boundary between your citizens and the rest of mankind — not politically, but philosophically. You announce that the standard by which regimes are to be judged is man’s eternal nature and not tradition, blood, or geography. And if that is true, any regime — yours, mine, or any other — that repudiates that standard becomes an enemy not merely of Americans, but of humanity itself. This is why your existence is more than a political fact; it is a philosophical revolution. You are called arrogant for speaking of yourselves as a “city on a hill.” But your most profound audacity is your humility before nature. You dared to assert that the truths upon which you rest are not yours. They do not belong to Boston or Philadelphia. They are not an American custom; they are a human truth. You did not create the equality of men; you discovered it. You did not grant inalienable rights; you recognized them. That is why you are, and must be, a light to other nations. The light you bear is not the sentimental glow of humanitarian feeling, which rises and falls with fashion. It is the light of nature—a light that flattens false hierarchies and exposes tyrannies as both false and unjust. It is the light by which a peasant in China, a dissident in Iran, and a woman in Canada can quietly measure her rulers and know whether they are legitimate. It whispers to the soul: You were not born to be a subject. You were not born to be a means. That whisper is your greatest weapon. You are the New Zion and its new chosen people. This is not to say God prefers your soil or your accents, but rather that you have been chosen for a specific task. You are chosen to live with the burden of having declared to the world that there is a standard above tribe, throne, party, and epoch. The burden is that you cannot retreat into the consolations of relativism without betraying your foundation. You cannot comfortably say, “Well, every culture has its own truths,” without also sawing off the branch on which you sit. If equality and liberty are not true by nature, then your founding is a magnificent illusion, and you are only one more tribe defending its prejudices. But if they are true by nature, then their reach is universal, their demand inescapable. You carry that demand. You carry it in your institutions, but more profoundly, you carry it in your self-understanding. You are condemned, by your own first principles, to care about the fate of liberty everywhere — out of philosophic consistency and not of imperial ambition. This is the burden of being New Zion. You cannot hide your light under a bushel without ceasing to be yourselves. From my vantage point, in a nation that has grown accustomed to retreat — to the modest comfort of thinking we can live as if history has ended and geography will protect us — I see you for what you are: the keystone of Western civilization. Remove you, and the arch collapses. Your military power is the result of this reason. The real keystone is that in you, the philosophy of natural rights did not remain an abstraction in a book or a lecture, but took the frightening step into reality. You wagered that men, understood as by nature free and equal, must govern themselves. The West’s greatest achievement — the union of reason and liberty—has its most concrete home in you. That is why your crises are never local matters. When you grow weary of yourself, when you tire of the old words and regard them as empty slogans, it is not only you who are endangered. A world already suspicious about reason looks on and concludes that even the noblest attempt to found politics on nature is a failure. Your decadence is offered as proof that the longing for liberty must submit at last to some new form of gentle despotism, administrative and “scientific,” tidy and soulless. The world is always looking for an excuse to give up on the demand that regimes justify themselves by appealing to something higher than power. Your failure would be that excuse. This is why — on this 250th anniversary — I write to thank you, not simply to flatter. You are tempted today by two opposite forms of forgetfulness. One is the temptation of heritage idolatry: to imagine that what makes you is a mere continuity of blood and custom, an ethnic story dressed up as philosophy. The other is the temptation of pure proceduralism: to see yourself as nothing but an empty framework in which any “culture”, any “values,” any “identity” may be poured. Both are evasions. The first reduces you to a tribe among tribes and abandons the universality at your essence. The second strips you of all substantive claims and abandons the truth by nature that gave you birth. Between these lies the hard road of self-knowledge: to remember that you are, in origin, argument and not blood — the argument that there are truths about man and justice that are true everywhere and always. As a Canadian, I have been spared many of your struggles. But I have not been spared the consequences of your ideas. I live in a world fundamentally shaped by the fact that, in 1776, a group of men on the eastern edge of a vast continent dared to write that governments derive “their just powers from the consent of the governed,” and that when any form of government becomes destructive of the ends of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, it may be altered or abolished. Whether my own nation remembers it or not, I know, because you taught me, that any regime which denies the equal natural freedom of its citizens is illegitimate. That knowledge is a liberation and a wound. It liberates because it tells me that I am not crazy when I feel outraged by injustice; I am simply judging by the nature of things. It wounds because it leaves me no refuge in the cozy lie that “this is just the way we do things here.” Your universalism leaves me cosmopolitan in the deepest sense, unable to be satisfied with local excuses. So today, on your 250th birthday, I thank Providence that my quiet, conciliatory nation has been blessed to share a border with you and not with a despot. I thank Nature’s God that your existence keeps alive the possibility of politics grounded in nature and not will. I thank you that your flag, mocked and burned in some quarters, still stands as a symbol that there is such a thing as a rational standard by which the mighty may be called to account. My love, the chosen people of natural right, you remain the one great nation that staked everything on the claim that man is by nature free and equal, and that government must humble itself before that fact. For that, a woman across your 49th parallel can know, without permission or apology, that she is free and equal by nature. That knowledge is your gift to me. Do not renounce it. In awe and wonder, An eternally grateful Canadian *** Dimpee Brar currently serves as the Director of Engagement for Allies for a Strong Canada. She is a writer whose work can be found in the Federalist, American Spectator, the Western Standard, and the Toronto Sun. She appears frequently on various podcasts and radio shows. You can follow her on X: @isthisdimpeeb

As our nation celebrates its 250th birthday, Americans are rightly reflecting on the extraordinary journey that made us the freest, most prosperous, and most innovative nation in human history. On Florida’s Space Coast, that reflection feels especially vivid. The Space Coast is not just a collection of launch pads and rockets — it is ground zero for America’s quest to maintain technological dominance and outpace our global adversaries. It is living proof of American ingenuity, vision, and leadership. Here on the Space Coast, we did not just witness history; we helped shape it. And with the investments and momentum we are building today, America’s next great chapter is already being written. Our story began in 1950, when the first rocket was launched from Cape Canaveral. Eight years later, Explorer 1 became America’s first satellite. In 1961, Alan Shepard became the first American in space, and just months later, President John F. Kennedy challenged the nation to do what many thought was impossible: put a man on the Moon. By 1969, Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin took humanity’s first steps on the lunar surface. The Space Shuttle program carried American innovation from 1981 to 2011, and in 2020, American astronauts once again launched to space from American soil aboard a SpaceX rocket. Today, the Artemis program is writing the next chapter of American exploration and leadership. Kennedy Space Center, which opened its gates in 1962, has been at the heart of it all — home to the mighty Saturn V, the Apollo program, the Space Shuttle, and now Artemis. These achievements were not accidents of history. They were the result of American risk-takers, pioneers, engineers, and patriots who refused to accept limits and chose to push the boundaries of what was possible. The Space Coast helped America win the Space Race, put boots on the Moon, and inspire generations of innovators who built the modern world. That same spirit of excellence and exceptionalism is needed now more than ever. The new space race is already underway. In an era of great-power competition, space is not a luxury — it is a critical domain of national security, economic strength, and technological superiority. Advances in space drive breakthroughs in communications, defense systems, manufacturing, and scientific discovery. Meanwhile, China is aggressively investing in its own space capabilities and openly challenging American leadership beyond Earth. We cannot afford to surrender the high ground. Every launch supports thousands of high-paying jobs, strengthens local economies, and reinforces America’s strategic advantage. The Space Coast is not simply part of our history; it is the launchpad for America’s future. I have fought to keep that momentum strong in Congress. I was proud to witness the successful launch of Artemis II, a historic milestone that brought America one step closer to returning astronauts to the Moon and ushering in a new era of exploration. As Chairman of the House Space & Aeronautics Subcommittee, I have worked to advance the NASA Reauthorization Act and support policies that strengthen America’s leadership in space. Just as importantly, I fought to secure critical investments in our future, including $250 million for Kennedy Space Center infrastructure upgrades and more than $10 billion for NASA through the One Big Beautiful Bill. Along the way, I have worked closely with NASA Administrator Jared Isaacman, agency leadership, and our commercial space partners to ensure the Space Coast remains at the forefront of innovation, discovery, and economic growth. As the space economy continues to expand, we are also advancing reforms such as the Department of Commerce’s Mission Authorization proposal to streamline regulations, encourage investment, and keep America the world’s premier destination for space innovation. These are not abstract investments. They are investments in American strength. With Artemis III on the horizon and American astronauts preparing to return to the lunar surface, we are once again proving that free people pursuing bold goals can accomplish what others only imagine. As America celebrates 250 years of freedom, the Space Coast stands as a powerful reminder of what makes this nation exceptional. When Americans dream big, build boldly, and refuse to back down from a challenge, there is no limit to what we can achieve. The next era of space exploration — lunar bases, missions to Mars, and technologies that will transform life here on Earth — is already taking shape right here in Florida. The Space Coast helped America win the Space Race. It will help America win the next one, too. The best is yet to come. Let us continue building, launching, and leading — showing the world that American exceptionalism is not a relic of the past, but a force that still drives humanity forward. As we celebrate 250 years of freedom, America is once again reaching for the stars, and the world is watching. *** Congressman Mike Haridopolos represents Florida’s 8th Congressional District.

The media wants you to get canceled and stay canceled. Journalists didn’t complain about Cancel Culture during woke’s darkest days. Instead, they fed the beast. And they haven’t stopped, even if what Elon Musk dubbed the “woke mind virus” is fading. Cancel Culture took down all comers for a good, long while. Think of those who committed legitimately awful acts (Louis C.K., Harvey Weinstein), comedians who shared “problematic” jokes (Kevin Hart), or singers saying ugly words off stage (Morgan Wallen). For the worst offenders, the media insisted that the parties in question have no redemptive arc. Apologies were demanded but not accepted. Louis C.K. is the poster child for this trend. The “Louie” star was one of the most respected comics in the industry circa 2017. His FX series earned endless praise, his edgy stand-up material wowed critics, and he seemed poised for a Woody Allen-style directorial career with his upcoming film, “I Love You, Daddy.” Then he confirmed reports that he had sexually exposed himself to multiple women. He apologized and said he’d go away for a while. And he did, but not before his career collapsed. He lost that FX series, a role in “The Secret Life of Pets 2,” and any other gigs from his once-thriving career. Oh, and the distributor behind “I Love You, Daddy” yanked the film from the schedule. It remains unreleased. C.K. eventually returned to comedy stages nationwide. He did so on his own, flexing his email list of supporters and trusting his comedy could lure some folks back to his side. He suffered for his actions. He lost millions. He will never lose the label that many have affixed to him for his actions. And, of course, some fans will never support him. That’s their choice, and it’s reasonable. He still deserves the chance to win back an audience and make people laugh. And they came, slowly at first, and his audiences eventually grew large enough that he played Madison Square Garden. But he’s not allowed that chance for redemption if the media has anything to say about it. His new Netflix special, “Ridiculous,” is his first mainstream Hollywood project since the revelations went public nine years ago. Variety’s review suggests his comeback, both on Netflix’s part and the media reception, remains problematic: The release of “Ridiculous” also culminates a tour that saw C.K. make inroads with the kind of liberal-coded publications that once covered his reputational nadir, with favorable writeups in both The Times and The New Yorker. Other outlets have played a similar refrain about his slow-motion comeback. The Guardian filled its “Ridiculous” review with regret that the special even exists: It’s less a triumphant return than a gradual slinking back, an unspoken assumption that no one really cares that much about his behavior; no particular defense or apology, just a shruggy emoticon.  Cracked.com, a far-Left site allegedly dedicated to pop culture, trashed C.K.’s fans for laughing at the R-rated jokes told in “Ridiculous.” Wallen’s cancellation story may be the most absurd. He was caught on camera using the “n-word,” but not aimed at anyone or, more specifically, targeting a black person. His career also collapsed overnight. He donated thousands to black organizations to stem the career damage, apologized profusely and took a break from touring. He lost access to major awards shows, found his music stripped from radio stations and lost his representation. The Washington Post used his cancellation to attack all of country music. He, too, slowly came back, and his fans were all too eager to forgive and forget. But when radio stations started playing his music again, Rolling Stone magazine cried out in horror. In the end, Wallen’s massive fan base un-canceled him. He grew more famous, more unstoppable, and the media hand-wringing eventually subsided. All for saying one ugly, offensive word. Dave Chappelle’s sin proved the most bewildering. The comedy giant poked fun at the trans community during a 2019 Netflix special dubbed, “The Closer,” that wrapped with a moving tribute to a late trans comic. The Cancel Culture mob ignored the latter and laser focused on the former. Chappelle’s skin color and comedy god status didn’t protect him from said mob. Netflix workers picketed their employer and media outlets turned on Chappelle with a ferocity that likely caught him by surprise. His plans to release a documentary got canceled, a project that has yet to see the light of day several years later. And, through it all, reporters piled on Chappelle. Rolling Stone, once a free speech bastion, often led the charge. Despite the rightful criticism many have shared in the wake of that special’s release, Chappelle’s career seems to be doing just fine if the arena-wide standing ovation he received upon arrival on Thursday is any indication. Darn it! Others piled on, demanding he apologize for … jokes. Dave Chappelle Inducts Jay-Z Into Rock Hall With Unapologetic Speech: ‘He Is Hip-Hop’ (The Hollywood Reporter) Dave Chappelle addresses Netflix controversy, remains unapologetic about anti-trans material: ‘I said what I said’ (New York Daily News) In most cases, the obligatory narrative followed. Think variations of “What Cancel Culture?” That ignores the massive punishments the aforementioned stars endured along the way. You’ll likely read just that as disgraced actors Armie Hammer and Kevin Spacey rebuild their professional careers. The people who behave badly but don’t endure this brand of media attack? Democratic politicians like Graham Platner. He was never canceled by the press in the first place. That’s all you need to know about “cancel culture.” *** Christian Toto is an award-winning journalist, movie critic and editor of HollywoodInToto.com. He previously served as associate editor with Breitbart News’ Big Hollywood. He’s also the host of The Hollywood in Toto Podcast. Follow him at @HollywoodInToto. 

Weekend Plans is our exclusive lifestyle feature where we highlight the real off-duty routines of the most exciting people in culture.  This weekend, 12-time All-American and SEC champion swimmer Riley Gaines sits down with The Daily Wire to chat about life on her Nashville flower farm, how her daughter Margot shifted her purpose, what she’s doing to celebrate America’s 250th (there will be pickleball!), and why she was never going to let that tie with the male swimmer determine her destiny. *** Sporting casual luxury with an oversized Parke sweatshirt, Riley Gaines joins me from the set of “The Riley Gaines Show,” formerly known as her “Gaines for Girls” podcast. The 26-year-old athlete laughs easily, describing the oppressively humid heat wave moving through Nashville for the July 4th weekend. Having counted at least four trophies dotting her shelves, I’m confident her easygoing nature extends to those who aren’t coming for her championship titles. It’s almost impossible to separate Riley from her advocacy. Ever since she tied transgender-identifying male swimmer Lia Thomas for fifth place during the NCAA Swimming and Diving Championship final in 2022 — and was forced to hold a sixth-place trophy as Thomas held fifth and raked in the accolades — Riley has fearlessly led the charge to keep men out of women’s competition. She regrets not speaking up sooner about a situation she saw brewing. “Honestly, had I not been personally impacted … I don’t think that I would have taken that initial leap of faith,” she says. The University of Kentucky grad was on track for a career in dentistry, but instead became one of the most prominent female athletes in the world. By 2025, she was standing behind President Donald Trump as he signed the order to ban transgender athletes from women’s sports.  “Riley is just a tremendous athlete, and it was a very unfair situation,” Trump said. “I want to thank Riley. She really has been at the forefront.” Photo by Andrew Harnik/Getty Images Maybe her timing wasn’t late, but instead, divine. Serendipitously, we’re chatting just hours after the Supreme Court’s ruling on Title IX, which upheld bans on biological males competing against girls and women. After years of death threats, false headlines, and overwhelming vitriol, Riley accepts the win for female athletes everywhere. I ask if she thinks any of this would have happened without her. She humbly shrugs off the props. “I feel indebted to the women who fought before me,” she says, explaining how “deeply regressive and utterly misogynistic” so-called progressive policy has been for female athletes. “My grandma, when she was in middle school and high school, didn’t have a category for sports. I feel indebted to the women in that generation who fought so I could achieve and succeed.” She’s effectively blazing the trail for her daughter’s generation. “I don’t feel like I deserve any of the credit here,” she says. “I’m just doing my part as one person.” Mornings on her Nashville farm Swerving off politics, Riley assures me, “The forward-facing side of me is honestly such a small part of who I am and the things that I care about.” I’m immediately captivated by her idyllic Nashville lifestyle. “We are flower farmers,” she says of the daylily-gilded property she shares with her British-born husband Louis Barker and their daughter Margot. “This time of year is really, really beautiful. They’ve all bloomed, so our yard is like colorful flowers everywhere.” If the pair isn’t busy cultivating crops, they have their animals to tend to: three dogs, three donkeys, four alpacas, a horse, and Pinterest-worthy cows. “I’ve got the Highland cows with the big fuzzy faces and the big horns … Go to Hobby Lobby and you see like 10,000 of these cows on every form of decoration.” She squeezes in her workouts before the sun comes up. “I wake up super duper early — in the 4 a.m., 5 a.m. hours — and I work out.” A fan of running, weightlifting, Pilates, and F45 Training, Riley’s never met a workout she didn’t like. “I’m one of those chronic gym hoppers,” she admits. “I have a million different gym memberships.” She also has the support to make those sessions count. “I generally work out every single day with my mom, my grandma, my older sister, my younger sister, and my dad.” But before the day really gets rolling, Riley enjoys a caffeine ritual that openly excludes the coffee machine in her kitchen. “I don’t know why I ever bought that because there’s just something about swiping your card and getting coffee from a coffee place that feels important,” she says. “[It’s] a critical part of my day.”   View this post on Instagram   A post shared by Riley Gaines Barker (@rileygbarker) Motherhood changes everything “It’s so funny now she has teeth and she’s walking,” Riley tells me of her daughter, Margot. “I’m like, how is this? Who let this happen? Why is my baby so big and old?” Less than a year after Margot’s arrival in September, it’s clear Riley’s focus has shifted. “I don’t even prefer to go by Riley,” she jokes. “I just want to be known as ‘Margot’s Mom’ … Once you have a daughter of your own it reprioritizes everything in your life.” She’s almost surprised at how naturally she tunes into her daughter’s needs. “Is she hungry? Does she need her diaper changed? Is she tired? Even when it’s not any of those things, it’s thinking about when she grows up, what color is her hair gonna be,” she says. “It’s hard to describe, that sort of shift that happens in a very primal way … but she is my whole world and my whole identity.” Carving out a day of rest Riley’s parents, grandparents, and siblings all live within five minutes of each other and spend time together daily. Inspired by Charlie Kirk’s final book “Stop In The Name of God,” weekend gatherings involve a full day of rest.  “I’ve really worked hard to implement that in my life, and I have found so much value in unplugging on the weekends and disconnecting,” Riley explains. “I truthfully believe, as human beings, we were not designed to consume as much as we do.” Whether it’s uncoupling from the news cycle or the latest celebrity scandal, she says it all started with walking away from her phone. “Initially it was hard,” she says. “It’s this weird instinct where you almost pick up your phone without even realizing it … I would find myself opening TikTok or opening X and then closing out the app and then almost immediately opening it again. I’m like, what am I doing?” Now, getting through a Sunday without doomscrolling feels refreshing. “Maybe it didn’t necessarily come naturally, but that is by far my favorite time of the entire week,” Riley shares. “Being able to wake up, get myself ready, then get my baby ready … We go to church, after church you go get a coffee, and you kind of have that catch-up reset day where you clean the house, you put everything together.” “I find I’m the best version of myself and the most recharged and rejuvenated version of myself when I am with my husband. We do that together, and I think it has helped us both individually, but also together, and certainly as parents to our little baby.” Domestic goddess-in-progress “For context, never have I ever been a good cook, chef, [or] baker,” Riley laughs when I ask who does the cooking for the extended family dinners she hosts several times a week. “I‘m impatient. I just want to throw everything in the pot together and have it be done at the same time.” She points to Louis as the chef in the family. “My husband went to boarding school and he learned all of these things about, you know, you have to let the garlic sauté … But he made a comment the other day, like, ‘Man, it’s hard being the stay-at-home mom.’” Riley immediately committed to honing her chops in the kitchen. “I can boil spaghetti now, so that’s a plus. I can sometimes hard-boil an egg.” We joke that when she launches a cooking show, I’ll be able to say I knew her when. “I’m still working on it,” she says with a smile. “I have a childlike level of culinary skills.” Don’t mess with this playlist  “I don’t want to hear about the allegations! Don’t tell me,” Riley declares. “I’m a Michael Jackson fan. I wish I could communicate how many times I’ve listened to the song ‘Human Nature.’ I go around my house doing the Michael Jackson dances and trying to emulate that high-pitched voice that he has.” She points to the recent Michael Jackson movie for reviving interest in his music, but she’s been an MJ fan since back in the day. “I think I was Michael Jackson for like three Halloweens in a row.” As for literary entertainment, if she isn’t re-reading her favorite Colleen Hoover romance novel, Riley hits up nonfiction like it’s her job. “I just find a lot of value in learning valuable, factual information,” she says. “I finished ‘Mere Christianity’ not that long ago by C.S. Lewis [and] started ‘The Abolition of Man’ after that.”     View this post on Instagram   A post shared by Riley Gaines Barker (@rileygbarker) Current state of being You might expect someone who describes herself as “hyper competitive, very fiery, and not necessarily afraid of confrontation” to be a master at the art of an online takedown. But learning not to “punch down” has been a lesson Riley’s taken to heart. “It was very easy for me to fire back, get like the Twitter thumbs, but I learned pretty early on to not punch down,” she says. “I have thought about that so many times over the past few years.”  She has famously feuded with media commentator Keith Olbermann, sports reporter Jemele Hill, and even Olympic gymnast Simone Biles. When Riley once referred to a transgender-identifying male athlete as a “boy,” Biles called Riley “sick” and “a straight up sore loser” on X, adding, “Bully someone your own size, which would ironically be a male.” Biles later apologized. These days, Riley’s taking the high road. “As opposed to firing off the first thing that comes to mind, which is natural for me, I take a step back to be the bigger person. Don’t punch down. Don’t give relevancy where relevancy is not deserved.”  Unsurprisingly, stepping into a public role she never anticipated has required serious guts. “The legacy that I want to leave behind is one that speaks of boldness and leadership, and of course, courage.” Along with her faith in God, she hopes to inspire others with her joy. She describes it as “My faith to persist, to continue on, to keep going forward with a smile on my face … All of that really comes into perspective when you have a daughter. I hope one day she will look back and know that her mom is someone who fought for her.” In celebration of America I’m not leaving without uncovering Riley’s plans for Independence Day. Since they regularly play together as a family, the extended Gaines gang is planning a patriotic pickleball tournament for the holiday weekend. But Riley has yet to gel with the sport.  “I’m really not that good,” she laughs. “It’s a hard pill for me to swallow because I’m used to being pretty exceptional at things that generally require athleticism … running, jumping … I played softball my whole life, so I’m used to being pretty successful in my athletic endeavors.” Pickleball is her Kryptonite. “I think I hit it too hard and I get angry.” Luckily, she also plans to stop by the Great American State Fair and enjoy the fireworks. But considering she’s a Nashville girl, I’m desperate to know Riley’s favorite brand of cowboy boots for a fashionable Fourth of July. “I have these really awesome green ones from Petite Paloma,” she tells me. They’re an investment, but she adds, “If you’re gonna get a pair of boots, you got to do it right.” “Going into America’s 250th, there’s so much to be excited about, optimistic about, and grateful for,” Riley says. She’s a shining example of the American dream. “I wake up every single day with real and true gratitude.”