"First they came for the Communists, and I did not speak out because I was not a Communist. Then they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out because I was not a Socialist. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me, and there was no one left to speak out for me." -Martin Niemöller

I went home this weekend for the first time in a month. After dinner, I was telling my parents about the latest that had happened at college-- how my roommate and I finally got Indian food from the campus Indian restaurant, how busy I had been with classes, the mundane details of college life.

Then, I saw my mom's smile fall as she looked down at her phone with a worried look on her face. She was reading the news when she said, all of a sudden, that two Indian engineers had been shot in a bar at Kansas City, Missouri.

Up until that moment, I thought that most of the things I had heard about on the news-- the ban on people from seven Muslim-majority countries, the recent crackdown on undocumented immigrants-- didn't seem to directly affect me in my day-to-day life. I say this frankly because it's true, and I admit it-- though I felt sympathy for those who were being targeted by the administration's policies as well as the hate crimes that may have stemmed from them, I never imagined that I could be considered a target. Growing up in a diverse suburb of Chicago, I never felt like I didn't belong here; that I was any less American than the kid standing next to me for the Pledge of Allegiance every morning.

So at first, my reaction was that this was impossible. Even my dad, who has been living here since the days of Reagan, couldn't believe it. You never know what's true these days on the internet...

Then, slowly, it began to sink in-- this realization that, among all things, no one truly is safe. Tomorrow, I could walk outside and someone could see me as a threat.

But the amount of distress this crime has caused me wasn't only out of concern for my own safety or the safety of my family. As I read about the shooting, I learned about its victims as well. One of the victims, Alok Madasani, was wounded but thankfully not killed. The man who was killed was Srinivas Kuchibhotla, and he was only 32 years old, about to turn 33 in a few days. When I watched a video of his widow demanding an answer from the government regarding her husband's death, it was heart-wrenching.

Then, I read that the White House Press Secretary had said that it was too early to say whether or not this was a hate crime. He said it was "absurd" to link any part of this shooting to the current administration.

Absurd.

I am not sure about the White House or anyone else, but to me, "Get out of my country" seems like a crystal-clear indication that this was racially motivated. In fact, there is already plenty of evidence that it was. In every credible article I read about this horrific, heart-wrenching tragedy, it was mentioned that the shooter had used racial slurs against the two men whom he later returned to shoot.

I understand that it is the government's job to not make assumptions when a crime is committed. However, it is silence on the administration's part that angers me the most. For an administration that has been quite vocal regarding terror attacks, there hasn't been a single word from the President himself. At this point, it's not even about politics-- it's about hate that has been allowed to fester like an open wound. Now, this hate is morphing into dangerous vigilantism by ordinary citizens against innocents and has become a badge of honor.

This hate, once again, has taken an innocent life. This is the real danger we, as a society, are facing now.

My parents expressed their own concerns to me the next day. They told me what to do in case someone confronted me with a gun and racial slurs. I overheard my mom telling my dad to be careful when he goes out. I could see the worry on my parents' faces; worry that we are no longer safe. This, to me, was foreign. I have been privileged enough in my life that I never had to think of this before. Both of my parents came here from India because they saw America as a land of opportunity where hard work pays off, not as a land of fear, hatred, and danger for those who are different.

Still, I believe there is hope that this does not define us completely. One of the victims, Ian Grillot, took two, fortunately, non-fatal bullets defending the two Indian men. Although he didn't know the victims personally, he said that it was a duty to stand up for them. “It’s not about where he’s from or his ethnicity. We’re all humans. I just felt like I did what was naturally right to do,” Mr. Grillot said. Meanwhile, support for Mr. Kuchibhotla and Mr. Madasani has been shown across America and across the world through vigils, fundraising for hospital fees, and calls for action. I want to believe that it is empathetic, compassionate people like these that make up my country, not a bunch of hateful, violent bigots.

But I, and many other people of every origin and race want a clear answer from the administration. That is the least we deserve. Justice will not just be done when the perpetrator of this hate crime is imprisoned-- it doesn't end so simply. Justice, for everyone killed in every hate crime that has happened in this country, will only be done when the administration takes steps to stop this. As Ginetta Sagan once said: "Silence in the face of injustice is complicity with the oppressor." This goes for the government as well as the people.

In a way, I believe it was people like me, people who thought themselves immune, are part of the problem. We stayed silent because we were sure we wouldn't be affected. We stayed home when there were protests because we never thought they would work. It took me this long to realize how utterly flawed this mentality is. Hate is damaging to us all, no matter what your race, ethnicity, gender, orientation, or religion is.

Silence will not solve the problem. The only way we, as ordinary citizens, can try to curtail these awful acts of hatred and ignorance, is to speak out against injustices being done against any of our fellow humans.

We can no longer afford to be afraid-- we must speak out.