I don’t know what to say to you because the things that you say to others and the things you don’t say to me already ring with the sounds hate, discrimination, and everything you taught us not to be.
I see when you comment on news articles. They trickle through my feed.
I see your posts to each other. They’re difficult not to read.
I can see the things you like and the people in your life.
I can see when you do nothing.
I can see you.
I can see.
Your gleeful support of men and platforms which have clearly stated their hatred for Queers, Muslims, Black Americans, women, and the disabled is confusing and upsetting.
That support echoes: at worst, of the bully-boys on the school yard teasing me to tears; at best, of the silent, sneering children as the others called their jeers.
Would you see me converted through electroshock therapy?
Am I to blame, in my queerness, for the nation’s faults?
Do you believe that our fellow citizens should register based on their religion?
Or that women are objects for men to taunt and abuse?
Do you believe that a publicly operating business should be able to turn me away simply for a perception of queerness?
And for that matter, do you even support my right to marry?
Do you think I’m evil?
Your behavior, your silence, and your support for these men and platforms leads me believe that the answer to each is yes.
Yes to torture and to blame. Yes to abuse and to discrimination. Yes to the perception of evil.
Dear family. I don’t know what to say to you because the things that you say to others and the things you don’t say to me already ring with the sounds hate, discrimination, and everything you taught us not to be.