I try to avoid politics and religion in any part of my work. That said, I’m human. These things affect me, as they do most of you. Here it is 2 a.m., and I’m wide awake. After tossing and turning, thoughts churning through my mind, I couldn’t take it anymore. The events over the last several days, the response, or non-response to those events, a woman losing her life. Groups of people calling for the eradication of other groups of people, I had dealt with as much as I could. Bear with me, because this does all tie in with my writing. Why it does is a puzzle, but in the end, it does.
No one is born with hate in their heart. It is a learned message. Babies do not have the capability to hate, there is no other answer required. From generation to generation that hate is passed down, you can’t fault the children who act or believe this way, they have been indoctrinated to act as such. What we must do, is work to break those cycles. Think of it as we would if it were child abuse or spousal abuse. Stopping it at its core is imperative. Our children, their children, that’s where the answer to all of this falls. The younger generation is much more open-minded, more accepting and tolerant. However, unless we ourselves vow to make a change, or to step up and intervene, they won’t learn that either.
My own daughter is fifteen, she came out as LGBTQ last year. It wasn’t an issue for us because she was and is and always will be my daughter, no matter what. Unconditionally. Tonight, here at home, we had a guest for dinner–she, in turn, brought a guest. That was fine. The more the merrier. Or, so I thought. It turned out to be a recipe for disaster. When Donna* (names changed to protect privacy) asked my daughter how she was doing, if she looked forward to the upcoming school year, and my daughter answered, it started a series of chain reaction events. T, (my daughter) excitedly told Donna about her new girlfriend, places they had visited over the summer, and moved on to talk about school. Scott* cleared his throat and asked about her girlfriend. She started to tell him, only to be interrupted with “aren’t you a little young to decide you want to be a lesbian?”
Please, do not provoke mama bear, especially in her own home. She didn’t decide anything. She is who she is. That’s all that matters. Whoever she is with, as long as they treat her well and it’s a healthy relationship, that is all that matters. Scott went on to inform me that by allowing her to behave in this manner I would destroy her life. There is no one at fifteen that knows what they are attracted to. Really, oh enlightened one? By this time, I was getting ready to put an end to the dinner altogether. In my home, myself, nor my child need to feel disrespected.
Before I could say anything, this strange man continued. Apparently, my friend informed him of my career, which he didn’t hesitate to throw up in the mix. “Anyone that writes the filth you do, should be disgusted with themselves. No wonder your child is the way she is.” That was it. I told him to get out of my house. I was pissed.
What I write isn’t for everyone, I understand that and accept that. What I write some might find offense in. Again, I understand that and accept that. What I write by no means affects my ability to parent or do anything else. I’m involved in my community, with various charities and organizations, my daughter’s school, and general clubs and groups. Hate comes in many shapes and forms, it’s rampant throughout this country and it’s beyond time for it to stop. From your major hate groups such as we witnessed in Charlottesville, to your neighborhood and school bullies.
We are the world around us, we need to make the changes, we need to say enough is enough. Less hate, more peace, love, and hope.