Radicalized.

Radicalize; verb: “cause (someone) to become an advocate of radical political or social reform.”

I have been radicalized. In truth it’s taken far too long.

I’ve played at being a political activist and social crusader. I’ve been a member of the Labour party for seven years, took part in my first nationwide campaign in 2011, published dozens of articles online and off in most left-wing publications; hell, even spent a week’s holiday in glorious East London canvassing for the General Election last year.

I’ve volunteered from time to time too. Given money to noble causes. Got out of my comfort zone every once in a while to talk to voters who don’t sound like me, don’t live like me, and don’t share the same views as me.

However, last Friday all these efforts paled to nothing. All my past activities were rendered intolerably inconsequential. Because I realized that I don’t truly live out my beliefs. I pursue them as hobbies.

I enjoy politics — it’s the greatest spectator sport there is. Nothing is as enthralling as watching the twists and turns, the ups and downs, that make up the dance of power. It’s a soap opera with consequences.

I also enjoy volunteering — as long as it doesn’t impinge too much on my social life. As long as it’s not too inconveniencing.

I’m an extrovert too, so delight in talking to other people on the doorstep. Just as long as they don’t say anything I don’t want to hear. As long as they’re not too different from me.

Last Friday I realized I talk a good game, but that I don’t play a good one. Hell, I’m not even on the field enough to be a contender.

Last Thursday, Jo Cox died in the course of living her beliefs. She was serving others at the time of her murder, en route to a constituency surgery to listen to the people of Birstall and to find ways to help them. Not talk about helping them — actually to do something about their problems.

In her all too few months in Westminster she had set up the All-Party Parliamentary Group on Syria and started a project to combat “the epidemic of loneliness” plaguing Britain. Before parliament, she served in some of the world’s most benighted regions as an aid worker.

As Jeremy Corbyn said in tribute to her last Thursday: “Jo was dedicated to getting us to live up to our promises to support the developing world and strengthen human rights.”

I am not living up to those promises. I am not even close. Today I resolve to change that. Fewer words, more actions. No more delays, no more vacillating-it’s time to get out there and practice what I preach. To do what Jo did, and what Jo would have wanted us all to do in the wake of her death.

Brendan Cox said she would have wanted us to “unite to fight against the hatred that killed her.” That hatred has found expression time and again in the guise of fascism. I may be on the opposite side of the ocean from my home country and the evils that lurks there, but there’s an all-too-clear and all-too-dangerous fascist threat in the United States that needs combating: Donald Trump.

So it’s time for me to step up and join the efforts of millions of Americans to stop him from becoming President. That’s one thing I resolve to do.

Jo Cox campaigned to increase aid to Syrian refugees and address the plight of refugee minors in particular. Displaced peoples are relocated all around the world, and America has been the shining hope of millions since its founding. Yet more needs to be done to resettle refugees in this country and assimilate them into life on these shores. Fortunately, New York is home to the International Rescue Committee, a charity dedicated to helping refugees overseas and in the US.

So it’s time for me to step up and join in with their great work. That’s a second thing I resolve to do.

Jo Cox also pledged to increase the provision of services to Britain’s loneliest people. It is a tragic irony that a woman committed to helping those dealing with loneliness should have been struck down by a man who appears to have lived most of his life in solitude. Again, I can continue her work in my own small way on the far side of the Atlantic.

Forty-three percent of American seniors report feeling lonely on a regular basis. Fortunately, there are a wealth of organisations that link up volunteers with lonely seniors and schedule visits so these elderly men and women can enjoy someone else’s company besides their own for a few hours a week.

Volunteering with one such organisation is the third thing I resolve to do.

This is only the start. I know I can’t run before I can walk; that my time is finite and my will all too easily run down. I’m aware that, right now, I’m not in a position to leave my present life for one of “unblemished altruism” like Jo. Not yet.

However, I have been radicalized. Her death has galvanized me, and hundreds of thousands of others, to continue her life’s work. Any time I waver or want to throw in the towel, I will be reminded of her speeches on child refugees, on the importance of unity in the face of agents of division, and-most resonant of all- her death in the course of living out her values.

There is no good that comes from the murder of an innocent person. Not any that can cancel out the evil of their taking. But maybe, just maybe, it can spur others to take action. I pledge to take action myself today.