A little black girl was told by her classmates to go to the back of the bus. A grown woman was spit upon by her male neighbor and told “women are trash.” A teenage girl was grabbed by the p*ssy in her high school, and the boy who did it taunted her, saying he was free to do that now.
These things happened yesterday in America.
To my friends.
The boy who assaulted his classmate later crowed on Facebook with his friends that he could do this in Trump’s America.
Trump’s rhetoric foments this kind of hate, and he will soon become the President of the United States, the most powerful man on earth. We are a nation of laws, not men, and he was dutifully elected, so this will happen as it should.
But civilization isn’t defined solely by what is *legal*, but by what is *civil*. What is acceptable in the everyday course of events at schools, on buses, in walks around your neighborhood. We must fight hard for righteous laws, but we must also stand up and say, “this is not right” to the abuses as they happen – the hateful rhetoric and hateful actions that make people live in fear for their safety and their children’s. We have to stand up and say this is *not* who we should be as a country. We’re a nation who welcomes the poor, huddled masses, who fights for freedom, and who bleeds for justice.
I’ve been crying for two days now. I’ve been in shock.
But I have privilege. I have a voice. And you can be damn sure I’ll be using them to protect and defend and fight for the right of every person in our country to be treated equally and with dignity. I’ve never regretted doing the right thing – the only memories that sear me are the times I’ve failed to act.
“Human rights are women’s rights, and women’s rights are human rights.” – Hillary Clinton, addressing China.
“This is precisely the time when artists go to work… No need for silence. No room for fear. We speak, we write, we do language. That is how civilizations heal.” – Toni Morrison
This is me, speaking. You won’t see me writing, but you’ll find the struggle for justice in my books. My language is my power, and I’m going to use it to create a world I can be proud of, that I can hand to my children, and say, “I’m doing what I can. You do your part now.”
We can do this, my friends.
Peace and love,
Sue