Understanding The Impact Of Faith And Media Misrepresentation: The Story Of Nicholas Sandmann

My Catholic faith has been present from the beginning of all that happened to me. The day after the incident at the Lincoln Memorial, with the help of Scott Jennings, I released my first written statement. It all came from me. They were my words.

I mentioned that I was praying when Nathan Phillips was up in front of me. I was praying for the situation to be done with. I had never been out of our northern Kentucky bubble before, which is very German Catholic and completely different from DC in all ways. The experience of someone confronting me from the street, without a chaperone to intervene, was entirely new.

Initially, I was accused of copying Phillips' talking points because he was beating a drum in a prayer of his own. Despite my background—having been baptized, made my first communion, been confirmed, and attending church every Sunday—the immediate response to me was disbelief. In that strange and unfamiliar moment, praying felt like a logical reaction, a way to navigate the unknown.

The reaction to my statement was frustrating. His narrative appeared to shift across different outlets and networks, while my account has remained consistent from day one. My faith was questioned, but his was never scrutinized, highlighting a double standard in media coverage.

That day is etched in my memory. My friends from Covington Catholic High School and I were near the Washington Monument when a woman jogged past us and yelled, "I hope you never get a girl pregnant!" We looked at each other, realizing we were no longer in our familiar Catholic northern Kentucky environment. It struck me that we were in a politically charged atmosphere.

At just 16 years old, I was young and naïve, struggling to comprehend the emotional intensity surrounding issues like abortion. While I understood my beliefs, I hadn't grasped the extent of the emotional responses they provoked, nor the resulting tension it created.

Afterward, we headed to the White House, where I saw protests for numerous causes, not just the March for Life. The scene was chaotic, with people protesting on every corner. As we joined the march towards the Capitol building, I got separated from my friends and was anxious about missing the bus home.

I finally reached the Lincoln Memorial just in time. I stood there talking with my teachers when students began arriving from different directions. Among them was a guy on an electric skateboard playing music. It was an odd sight, but nothing I hadn't seen that day.

Then I noticed a group of Black Hebrew Israelites starting to hurl insults at us. I later learned that one of my classmates, a 13-year-old African-American freshman, was called derogatory names by them.

Our teachers had instructed us not to respond to the insults. Instead, we began chanting our school spirit songs, just like at basketball or football games, to drown out the negativity. It was light-hearted and innocent, a way of coping with the hostility.

Surprisingly, it worked! We managed to throw them off their game. However, Nathan Phillips misinterpreted the situation, believing it was about to escalate into a fight between a group of white kids and a small group of African-Americans. That was never going to happen; I can't recall witnessing a fight during my years at CovCath.

As Phillips approached, I stood on a set of stairs, unsure of how to react. I was surrounded by people and couldn't move much without risking a fall. Everyone was confused, and the gravity of the situation was lost on us.

Later, on the bus ride back to Kentucky, I was awakened by fellow students who told me to check Twitter. I was bewildered, but when I did, I found a short, edited video of me at the Lincoln Memorial. I was shocked to see how I was being compared to civil rights protests, realizing things had spiraled out of control.

This was not a national news story; it was a small encounter that had been deliberately misrepresented. I felt overwhelmed by how quickly something innocent could be twisted into something ugly. Exhausted from the journey, I eventually went back to sleep.

Upon returning home before dawn, I found my mother in a panic because I had lost my wallet. I told her that wasn't our biggest concern at the moment. I had to explain the situation, emphasizing that I hadn't done anything wrong, despite being labeled a racist online.

My parents were not familiar with social media, so I quickly wrote an email to my principal, asking him to refrain from taking any actions without consulting me first. Unfortunately, by that time, the internet had already identified me and my school, flooding his inbox and causing my email to go unseen. The media frenzy continued, fueled by misrepresentations of what had actually occurred.

As part of our case, we collaborated with a forensic psychology firm and consulted several doctors who provided valuable insights. However, I was reluctant to seek external help or resort to medication for my anxiety. I wanted to process everything on my own without feeling defeated.

My journey has been about finding purpose and moving forward. Although people still recognize me, such encounters have become less frequent over time. Thankfully, all interactions since then have been positive.

When asked about my experience, I often respond with humor, stating, "The terms of the settlement were confidential." This way, I keep the conversation light while protecting my privacy.

As I reflect on the past few years, I realize that the media landscape hasn't improved. The tribalism and divisiveness have only grown stronger. Yet, I remain hopeful because I’ve met many reasonable individuals across the political spectrum who agree that what happened to me was wrong.

The takeaway here is that everyone should have a solid support system. For me, that consisted of family, friends, and mentors who provided guidance and comfort during tough times. Additionally, it’s crucial to remain patient and prepared for the long legal journey ahead. Courts may not always be favorable.

Today, I am in my final semester at Transylvania University, studying politics, philosophy, and economics. I’ve worked on various political campaigns, which have shaped my aspirations for a career in public service.

Ultimately, my experience has driven me to seek change and assist others through politics. Through my faith and resilience, I am committed to making a positive impact in the world.

All views expressed are the author’s own.

As told to Shane Croucher.